Cuba was drenched in sweat as he stared at the fully armed warrior before him.
They had clashed for dozens of rounds without a clear victor, and now both showed signs of exhaustion, their palms slick with sweat, yet neither dared to underestimate the other.
"Didn't expect the Empire's lapdogs to occasionally have a few decent ones," he sneered at Aslant in front of him.
"Heh, didn't expect you rebels to have someone halfway respectable either," Aslant retorted in kind.
"Hmph, judging by your look, you're probably from an ordinary family. Why willingly serve as the Empire's dog? Since we've met, how about I give you a choice? Join us—fight to overthrow the Empire's rule, bring freedom to your homeland."
Aslant shot him a contemptuous glance.
"All I know is that your war only brings suffering to the people. What freedom are you talking about? You deranged lunatics even collaborate with the Borgs."
That remark seemed to strike a nerve in Cuba. He said nothing, instead charging straight in.
They clashed again, their strikes even fiercer than before.
Those of higher Order rank, regardless of the combat move, were far stronger than ordinary people. Even a simple sword swing carried a chilling gleam that kept lower-ranked fighters at bay.
"Revolution demands sacrifice. Compared to our ultimate goal, this sacrifice is necessary," Cuba insisted.
"Hmph, that's just a self-deceiving excuse. You're all just after the high seats yourselves," Aslant said, slashing sideways to push his opponent within his attack range.
Aslant's martial skills were honed in the Empire's military. Everyone who came out of that place was a master of combat.
"Since you're so ungrateful, don't blame us for not giving you a chance later. Let me tell you straight—we've already sent a group into the city, and none of you will leave the Oro region."
Cuba spoke with confidence.
All around, the Oro city garrison was locked in a tangled fight with the revolutionaries.
When Aslant glanced back, he could no longer see Sean among the crowd.
"None of you are getting out. Oro City will be ours soon enough," Cuba said with a cold laugh.
Though the kill had been stolen, at least the enemy was down. Facing an opponent of equal rank, Sean still felt each battle drained a massive amount of mana.
By now, Sean's head was starting to spin.
He shook it to stay clear-headed. Recovering magical power was akin to restoring one's mental state—at least, that was how Sean understood it.
He rarely had the chance to engage in real combat. No matter how many times he simulated battles in his mind, nothing beat the thrill of an actual fight.
"Lord Sean, are you really alright?"
"I'm fine."
He waved dismissively at Latina beside him.
"You can use magic, Lord Sean?" Latina stared at the fallen enemy.
Aside from her own strike, there was a fatal wound on the left side of the enemy's chest—even more severe than hers. What made it stranger was the weapon that caused it.
It was lodged in the man's chest, a blade resembling crystalline blood.
After the enemy fell, the peculiar blade slowly melted into the air.
"I picked up a bit before," Sean said casually.
"That's amazing."
He saw admiration and excitement flicker above her head.
This fangirl really had no sense of timing sometimes.
"What about the others?" Sean asked, looking at the revolutionaries falling around them, along with many of Oro's soldiers.
"They've all scattered in the melee. I've been searching for you the whole time, Lord Sean."
On a normal day, Sean might have found it annoying, but in the heat of battle, having someone keeping an eye on him was reassuring.
"Thanks."
A simple thank-you made Latina beam with joy.
Just then, two more revolutionaries charged at them, only to be cut down instantly by Latina's swift sword.
Well...
A rank 6 Order warrior could almost one-shot someone at rank 4, especially someone as seasoned as Latina, a former mercenary.
"Lord Sean, should we still retreat as planned?" Latina stood guard in front of Sean, using the brief lull to survey the battlefield.
Thousands were locked in combat at the mountain pass entrance.
The narrow space made it impossible for so many to break free.
"Yes, retreat as planned."
Before arriving, Sean had studied the terrain. The road was narrow, but it hadn't exceeded his expectations. He pulled a whistle-like object from his belt and handed it to her.
Originally, he was supposed to use it himself, but given the current situation, that wasn't possible.
"Take this and signal the others to retreat through the melee."
"But, my lord, you—"
"I'll be fine. If you stay with me, you'll just draw more attention." Sean said urgently.
Seeing her hesitation, he shoved the item into her hands.
"Go. If we can pull off a successful retreat, this battle is ours."
Latina, being a former mercenary, understood the urgency and didn't hesitate. She nodded, blew the whistle, and charged back into the fray, while Sean began running toward Oro City.
He had never intended to deliver supplies to the Empire or waste resources elsewhere.
Oro City was newly built—where would it find supplies to send to the front lines?
Though those around him urged him to send at least something, Sean wasn't a native of this country and lacked such sentiment. In his view, losing the city meant losing their home.
As he ran, the whistle echoed through the battlefield.
"The Count is wounded! Retreat!"
"The Count is wounded! Retreat!"
"Retreat!"
The cry spread like wildfire among the troops.
The soldiers didn't understand, but the officers who had attended the meeting knew exactly what it meant.
At the top of the fight, Aslant was still locked in a stalemate with Cuba when he heard the news. Since he wasn't near Count Weigel, this deviated from the plan, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Looks like your Count isn't as lucky as you," Cuba said with a grin upon hearing the news.
"Hmph, you got lucky today. We'll settle this another time." Aslant spat out a taunt and turned to leave.
"Running away?"
Cuba lunged to block him, but against an opponent of similar rank, stopping a retreat was nearly impossible.
Meanwhile, shouts rang out from the Oro garrison.
"Burn the supplies! Don't leave them anything!"
Hearing that, Cuba quickly ordered his men to stop pursuing and focus on putting out the fires. These supplies were vital to the revolutionaries. Since they had chosen a direct assault, they could no longer operate in scattered groups. They needed to hold the high ground, and that meant securing the supplies.
"Stop chasing! Put out the fires first!"
Cuba rushed to a wagon to douse the flames. The horses had been set loose, leaving only a cart full of supply crates, with dry grass burning in the middle.
He used his greatsword to lift and toss away the burning parts.
As he cut through, a peculiar smell filled the air.
This was...
He tore open a sack to reveal tightly wrapped blocks secured with hemp rope. His expression shifted from surprise to horror.
"No—this is explosives!"
"Get out!"
At the same time, Sean was preparing his magic on the other side.
Hydrogen Bomb.
*Boom!*
The most deafening roar echoed through the mountains.
[Note: The source app "Youyue Book City" requires specific downloads for Android and iOS.]