Chapter 75: Execution
Baron Ster Bole maintained a calm expression. As the White Mist diffused, he stepped forward slowly, blocking the path of Baron Howis Abres of the Eastern Mountain Territory.
His eyes were indifferent, with a faint blue light flickering within them. More than a dozen Ice Spikes hovered on either side of him, itching to strike.
Facing the Lord of the White Mountain Territory standing before him, Baron Howis Abres’s expression was equally complex.
As the weakest and least established of the three lords of the Fertile Plains, Baron Howis Abres of the Eastern Mountain Territory had once shared a decent relationship with Baron Ster Bole.
Back at the banquet hosted by Count Shuvaric, they had sympathized with each other’s circumstances, developing a certain mutual understanding. After all, their situations had been quite similar.
But exactly when had they begun to drift apart?
Baron Howis Abres could no longer remember.
"You can't stop me," Baron Howis said as he slowly drew his Longsword.
A greenish-blue glimmer began to surface in his eyes. Faint currents of air emerged along the blade, gradually forming a ring of air blades around the sword.
The translucent blades slowly turned light green, eventually dyeing the entire Longsword in a greenish hue.
Wind Slash.
One of Baron Howis Abres’s two Bloodline Abilities.
The Baron of the Eastern Mountain Territory stepped forward gracefully.
As if he were not on a battlefield, but merely entering a banquet hall.
Baron Ster Bole slightly raised his hands, and two Ice Spikes at his sides began to tremble gently.
His posture was equally refined, his lifted hands resembling a conductor holding a baton.
The cold air around them surged with increasing intensity.
Although the White Mist did not expand further, the Cold Frost Aura grew noticeably denser. In places slightly closer to the mist, frost began forming visibly, solidifying at an astonishing speed. The influence of the Cold Frost Aura was clearly starting to manifest physically.
Yet the Baron of the Eastern Mountain Territory paid no heed, walking straight to the edge of the mist.
Then, he suddenly slashed his sword!
The greenish-blue blade sliced above the range of the mist.
Thick white frost rapidly enveloped the blade, frost visibly condensing along it, seemingly intending to freeze the entire Longsword.
The composure on Baron Howis Abres’s face quickly turned to seriousness. Muscles in his arms bulged, clearly indicating that this slash over the mist had not been as effortless as he had anticipated.
Even so, through difficulty—
A greenish-blue sword mark still slashed through the mist above.
That was the trace of extremely compressed airflow hanging in suspension.
Countless white frost streams rushed to entangle that long green mark, but were shredded just as quickly, not melted, but nullified the moment the frost gathered, turning instantly to nothingness, not even leaving ice behind.
To observers, all they could see was the White Mist repeatedly crashing into the green hue, only to vanish instantly.
Again and again.
Just like waves shattering upon jagged reefs.
Yet both the Baron of the Eastern Mountain Territory and Baron Ster Bole of the White Mountain Territory understood precisely what that shade of green truly meant.
Baron Howis Abres whispered a single word.
The greenish-blue sword mark instantly exploded.
The ultra-compressed airflow erupted violently.
With the burst of the strong wind, the dense White Mist on the ground was rapidly blown away, despite its thickness, it could not withstand the seemingly endless gusts.
Like peeling an onion, layer by layer, the mist thinned and eventually vanished, revealing the soil below, already covered in a thick sheet of Solid Ice.
Baron Howis Abres swiftly seized the opportunity to step forward.
His right foot struck down.
With such force that the Solid Ice beneath cracked open, a fracture rapidly spreading outward.
Using this as a launch point, he surged forward like a cannonball, charging straight at Baron Ster Bole.
Faced with the aggressive assault from the Baron of the Eastern Mountain Territory, Baron Ster Bole seemed completely unbothered.
He merely raised a finger, and the Ice Spikes flanking him, already poised to strike, shot forward like charging knights toward Baron Howis Abres.
The first two Ice Spikes—
Baron Howis Abres suddenly swung his Longsword to the left and right, shattering the two Ice Spikes immediately.
But before his wrist even dropped—
Two more Ice Spikes came shooting toward him.
Forcing himself to draw a new breath, with the surge of power entering his body, Baron Howis Abres swiftly lifted his wrist again and struck twice.
Once again, the two Ice Spikes shattered.
Only this time, he was considerably more cautious. After breaking these two Ice Spikes, he did not let down his guard.
Sure enough, two more rapidly advancing Ice Spikes appeared in his vision again.
Baron Howis Abres sneered coldly. His Longsword swept once more, instantly shattering these two Ice Spikes.
Immediately after came the fourth pair of Ice Spikes.
However—
This time, as the Baron of the Eastern Mountain Territory raised his sword again, he could not help but frown.
Because he suddenly realized, the weight of his Longsword had increased.
Unable to press forward, Baron Howis Abres abruptly stamped his foot to stop.
Even so, he still managed to shatter the two Ice Spikes flying toward him with the Longsword, albeit more slowly.
Then he glanced at Baron Ster Bole, discovering that the distance between them had narrowed to less than fifteen meters.
At this range, he could launch another charge forward, yet seeing the calm demeanor of his opponent, the Lord of the White Mountain Territory, and the Ice Spikes still lingering around him as if they had never diminished, the Baron of the Eastern Mountain Territory finally gave up the attack.
He suddenly swept his sword again, leaving behind another mark of Wind Slash in the air.
Then his figure retreated, swiftly leaving the area of Solid Ice on the ground.
In an instant, the two once again returned to their previous standoff distance.
Almost at the exact moment Baron Howis Abres retreated from the Solid Ice zone, the surging White Mist gathered again like a living creature, once more encircling the area, if the Baron of the Eastern Mountain Territory had hesitated for even a second, he would have been trapped within the range of that mist.
In truth, were it not for the greenish-blue airflow trail left between these two lords, no one would have imagined that a fierce confrontation had already taken place between them.
At this moment, Baron Howis Abres’s face finally darkened.
His right-hand Longsword was nearly encased in a massive chunk of Solid Ice, each time he shattered an Ice Spike, a chill from the frost clung to the sword.
The more Ice Spikes he destroyed, the more frost accumulated on it. This was the reason he felt the sword growing heavier.
Under normal circumstances, he would have had time to deal with the chill clinging to the blade.
In fact, once his ability activated, the airflow would be sufficient to shred the frost off the sword.
But in the enemy's White Mist zone, what he lacked most was time, so there had been no way to handle the frost, especially when he knew Baron Ster Bole would never give him the chance.
That relentless wave after wave of Ice Spikes was the clearest proof!
At last—
Only when this first fierce clash came to a temporary halt did Baron Ster Bole speak, "If you were determined to break through at all costs, I indeed wouldn’t be able to stop you. However, if my goal is only to keep you here, then I have more than enough time to hold you off."
Hearing this, Baron Howis Abres slightly furrowed his brow, then suddenly understood.
He whipped his head around.
Behind him lay the battlefield he had already given up on, where his eldest son Mike Abres was engaged with the enemy.
...
On this battlefield, almost entirely overlooked, the towering figure of Mike appeared nearly deranged.
At some point, several wounds had appeared on his body.
They were marks left from his armor being melted by raging flames, Ion’s combat style had never concerned itself with knightly honor. It was entirely that of a typical mercenary thug: whatever worked, he would use.
So although he appeared to fight with a sword, once he discovered that attacking from close range was more effective, he never hesitated to abandon the sword.
Upon realizing that his Longsword could hardly affect Mike effectively, and that the armor Mike wore was not fully forged from Rare Iron but rather ordinary armor mixed with some Rare Iron, Ion had discarded his Longsword.
He had closed the distance, utilizing the Blood Flame of the Flame Hound, which could incinerate all non-Rare Iron equipment, and attacked Mike at close range.
As the firstborn of a noble lord and heir to the territory, Mike had never experienced such an encounter and was overwhelmed by Ion from the very start.
Though he wanted to create distance, Ion, having seized the advantage, gave him no such chance.
Even if the armor couldn’t be burned away in an instant, repeated exposure to flames would eventually destroy this partly-Rare Iron mixed armor.
Once it was gone, the rest would be simple, because the Blood Flame of the Flame Hound fed on blood. Ion had realized this after killing that Bloodline Knight the previous afternoon: although igniting the Blood Flame required his own blood, once it was burning on the enemy, it would no longer need to consume his blood.
Because the Blood Flame would seek its own fuel.
So once the first spark of Blood Flame began burning on Mike, the outcome of the battle was already decided.
"Ah—"
A piercing scream marked the moment Mike could no longer withstand this torture that bordered on execution.
And with the collapse of his will, Mike could no longer maintain any semblance of composure.
Ion picked up the Longsword that had fallen nearby, and like an executioner, directly decapitated Mike.
Then he lifted his head, turning toward the Eastern Mountain Territory's Baron Howis Abres, who had just turned back, his eyes filled with horror.