CH248 Legendary Truth

***

Suddenly, every eye turned to a fully armoured human soldier standing in the air at the rear of the Fury army.

Before him, the Half-Legend Orc Chief's earth-shattering punch dissipated—like snow melting under the first rays of spring.

The soldier slowly removed his helmet.

It was none other than Earl Drake Fury.

[Abyssal Conqueror's Step: Fourth Step: Tyrant's Descent]!

Boom!

Step by step, Drake walked across the air toward the Orc Chief, each stride calm, almost casual. Yet for the Wildkin below, it was as though a mountain had been dropped onto their shoulders. The weight pressed harder with every step.

Before long, many Wildkin collapsed to their knees, forced down by the sheer oppression of his presence.

The Orc Chief rose into the sky to meet him. A deep frown cut across his face as he realised—no matter what he did, the suffocating pressure crushing his warriors refused to lift.

"You should have obediently let the brats have their fun." Drake's tone was casual, yet the killing intent locked firmly onto the Orc Chief made it clear—this man was anything but.

"Now that you've made your move, I have no choice but to act as well." Drake half-sighed, half-shook his head. "So, what will it be? Will you resist—or spare us all the time and surrender?"

"I have heard of the human Legend who guards the fertile plains to the desert south," the Orc Chief growled, speaking in the common tongue of Pangea. "I came to see if your strength is worthy of such fame."

"Then I'll take that as resistance," Drake replied coldly. "Do you understand what awaits you when this foolishness fails?"

"I am an Orc. I do not fear death." The Orc Chief straightened, eyes unyielding.

"Death?" An evil grin stretched across Drake's lips. "Who said anything about death?"

The Orc Chief's expression faltered.

"Do you realise how much your pointless war has cost me?" Drake sneered. "Don't worry. You will. You'll pay it back—every last drop—by working as my slave."

"Roar! You dare insult a warrior?!"

"Do I dare?" Drake laughed, his crimson eyes glinting with madness. "Don't you know who I am? I am the Mad Earl! There is nothing I don't dare do!"

[Abyssal Conqueror's Step: Third Step: Wraith's Crossing]!

Crack!

In the blink of an eye, Drake vanished in a spark of lightning.

When Drake reappeared, he stood behind an Orc Fighter—just as the brute was about to cut down a Veteran-ranked Fury soldier.

The Orc's barbarian sword was no longer in his hands. It was in Drake's.

The Orc Fighter spun around, raising a fist to strike—

—but his vision rolled.

Nay, not his vision. But his head.

His severed head tumbled through the air, still wearing the expression of rage.

And he wasn't the only one. Almost every Veteran-ranked Wildkin on the battlefield—scores of them—were suddenly dismembered. None of the survivors had seen when it happened.

'Was it… in the instant he moved?' The Orc Chief's eyes widened in disbelief.

Drake floated calmly back into the air, meeting his gaze.

"Don't look at me like that," Drake said evenly. "I warned you before not to interfere in the children's fight. This is the result of ignoring me."

The Orc Chief froze. He suddenly remembered—that warning glare he felt on the city wall earlier, when he had nearly struck the retreating Fury soldiers.

"Mad Earl!" the Orc Chief roared. "Do you think I cannot do the same?!"

Fury burning, he raised his fist.

A pseudo-Legendary Domain surged from his body, enveloping much of the battlefield. The officers of Exercitus Alexii were instantly caught within its grip. Then his colossal fist came crashing down.

It happened too fast. The Fury officers couldn't even react. And even if they could—how could mere Veteran-rankers and Half-Saints hope to resist the full-powered strike of a Half-Legend?

But then—

Boom!

A world of lightning erupted across the battlefield.

Everyone—human and Wildkin alike—was plunged into a storm of crackling arcs. Illusionary lightning danced across their skin, their armour, their weapons, making the world itself feel like it had been thrown into a raging tempest.

'Legendary Domain!' The realisation struck terror into every Saint and above present.

Unlike the vague, conceptual domains of Saints, a Legendary Domain manifested as a world unto itself, an extension of the Laws a Legend had grasped.

Within Earl Drake's Legendary Lightning Domain, the Orc Chief's pseudo-Legendary Earth Domain shattered like glass. His mighty strikes dissolved instantly, erased by the storm's passive arcs without Drake even lifting a hand.

All Drake had done… was unfurl his Domain.

"I see… you're one of those fools," Drake's voice pressed directly into the Orc Chief's ears. "Because, by some miracle, you once faced a Saint as a Half-Saint and survived, you now believe you can do the same against a Legend while standing at Half-Legend."

His tone grew colder, sharper.

"Wake up. There is no such thing as a Half-Legend. It is nothing but falsehood spread by ignorant fools. You are either a Legend… or you are not.

"And you… are not."

The Orc Chief flinched.

"Even if you were Legend, it would change nothing. At best, it would take me one minute longer." Drake's lips curled into a chilling smile. "But since you are destined to serve as my slave… allow your new master to show you the gulf between a false legend—"

He lifted the double-handed barbarian sword with one hand, its weight meaningless to him.

"—and a true Legendary."

The blade descended.

"A Saint's Derived Concepts move their intent in harmony with the world, by its rules," Drake said, his voice echoing like thunder across the battlefield. "But a Legend? A Legend bends the world's Laws themselves to their will."

The strike looked deceptively soft—so light that even a Class 0 trainee might have believed they could block it.

"Cut," Earl Drake commanded.

The world obeyed.

Slash!

The Orc Chief's eyes bulged. He dropped down, stamping his feet into the earth, forcing his Earth-aligned Domain outward. Stone-like barriers erupted, his pseudo-legendary armour gleamed, his Internal Energy surged like a mountain's heart.

He hoped—desperately—that he could anchor himself, turn his Domain into a lightning rod to ground Drake's Lightening Law-infused strike.

But it made no difference.

His Domain shattered. His armour cracked. His body, his very defences, every last safeguard—all of it was sliced through as if it had never existed.

Splash!

Blood painted the battlefield. The Orc Chief collapsed, unable to rise again. His fate—life or death—was unclear.

Drake glanced down with indifference.

"The Laws are the truth of this world," he said, his voice carrying across the stunned battlefield. "To become a Legend is to fuse with the Laws… and thus, to become truth itself."

He turned his gaze to the chaos below.

"Finish your play. I shall not interfere."

And then he vanished.

To the soldiers, it seemed as though he had simply disappeared from sight again. But the truth was far different. Earl Drake had left the battlefield entirely—his focus now elsewhere.

'Those bastards… Even after I revealed myself, they did not appear. That means… I am not their target.'

His eyes narrowed, lightning flashing across his armour.

'If not me, then the only possible target is—'

His Legendary Domain unfurled once more.

A blinding bolt of lightning split the skies as Earl Drake Fury streaked away, moving at a fraction of the speed of light.

His destination—

The Northern Dankrot Fort.

***

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.