Astralium
patreon
TGGG — Chapter 67: Forcing Our Way In
🕑 Added 2025-07-17 00:43:06 +0000 UTCAs for me, I gripped the sword that had manifested in my hand moments earlier. A long blade shimmered with deep cobalt light, inscribed with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with mana.
Howling Edge
Grade: Unique
Type: Magic Sword
A blade forged from the sharpest fang of a Tempest Leopard, a beast known for its superior magical ability to wield the power of wind. Enchanted with tempestuous runes, this magic sword can call forth the fury of the storm against its foes.
· Durability: 120/120
· Grants +5 Strength and +15 Dexterity
· Increase the user’s attack speed by 20%.
· Can unleash a special skill: [Windstorm], usable once every ten minutes.
As I poured mana into the blade, the runes along its edge flared to life. A sharp gust swirled around the blade. It felt weightless in my grip, like it would fly from my hand and cut through the sky if I let go.
“Windstorm!” I shouted.
A violent pulse of wind erupted from the blade in an instant. A shockwave of slicing wind howled outward in a cone ahead of me, tearing through the enemy formation.
“What the fuck?!”
“Is he a mage?! Aaargh!”
“Fall back—damn it, move!”
Screams and curses erupted as several of Graham’s men were blasted off their feet. Shields were torn from their owners’ grips, and those who tried to block too late found their armor slashed open along the joints by invisible blades of wind.
I let out a low whistle at the scene. The raw damage wasn’t catastrophic, but as a crowd-control tool, Windstorm was an excellent skill. The only drawback was that using this skill used mana in addition to stamina and mental energy, and could only be used once every ten minutes.
“Not bad, lad! That new sword of yours is a real menace! My turn. Adamant Flesh: Iron Body!” Boris roared with laughter as he charged in like a living battering ram, shoulder-slamming a Gimmel-rank warrior into a stone pillar hard enough to leave cracks. “Weren’t you the ones doing the ambush? You’re making it too easy!”
Michelle followed up from my flank, letting loose two rapid arrows. Both hit their marks cleanly, dropping a pair of disoriented attackers before they could recover.
Despite the enemy’s numbers, the sudden retaliation sent chaos through their ranks. My blade, Howling Edge, truly lived up to its name. However, I didn’t relish in the moment and used the opening to rush ahead, slashing low toward the legs of a nearby foe. The enhanced speed made the man react too late, and he collapsed with a groan.
Still, I was careful not to kill any of them; I didn’t want to trigger a soul-coin-deduction penalty. I might not have taken a life yet in this world… but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t if I had no other choice. And judging by the direction things were heading, that moment might not be far off.
The thought made me tighten my grip around the hilt of Howling Edge as we carved open a path. Every step brought us closer to the great stone doors of the Hall of Classes, the only sanctuary within reach.
“Shit! Block them! Don’t let them in!” Ryan shouted, now standing directly in front of the entrance, sword drawn and panic rising in his voice.
Beside him, five other Gimmel-rank divine warriors lined up, fully armored, armed, and clearly determined to stop us from reaching the doors. They weren’t just grunts like the others we’d scattered. These people were the real threat.
“Looks like the main course has arrived,” Boris muttered, cracking his knuckles again as he stepped to the front beside me.
“They’re not going to let us through,” Michelle added, already nocking another arrow to her bow. “We need to break through fast.”
“I know.” I narrowed my eyes and scanned their positions.
Ryan looked more confident than he had any right to be. Probably because of the numbers. But if he thought numbers alone could stop us now, then he was about to get a harsh lesson. We weren’t the same divine warriors we were a week ago.
I whispered, “Boris, you go all out and carve open a path in the middle. Michelle, pin down that archer in the rear. Keep Boris’s advance clean.”
“And you?” Boris asked without looking at me.
I tightened my jaw. “I’ll watch our backs. If they try to box us in, I’ll stop them.”
That was all that needed to be said.
After all, I didn’t need to get into the Hall of Classes to do my class advancement. The most important thing right now was to get both of them inside. Once they advanced, we’d be on equal footing with Graham’s top elites, and this whole ambush would become meaningless.
With the plan in motion, we charged forward toward the Hall of Classes.
As planned, Boris led the charge, his skin gleaming with a metallic sheen from Iron Body. The moment he slammed into the front line, it was like a mad bull crashing into a brittle fence. Three Gimmel-rank divine warriors braced together, barely managing to withstand the initial impact. Their shields cracked under the force, weapons jarred loose, and in the next moment, one of them was hurled backward across the plaza with a pained grunt, though he rolled to his feet and immediately counterattacked.
Michelle followed behind him with graceful agility. Arrows flew from her bow in rapid succession, each striking with pinpoint accuracy and keeping the enemy archer, who was on the rooftop, pinned. But her opponent was no amateur either—he retaliated whenever an opening appeared, keeping her on her toes.
Meanwhile, I guarded the rear, intercepting anyone trying to flank us. A Bet-rank warrior lunged at Michelle’s exposed side, but I parried his strike and sent him sprawling with a sweeping kick. Another opponent came from the left; I slashed across his ribs with Howling Edge, then turned just in time to deflect a thrust aimed at my back from a third attacker.
“Grrr…!” Ryan snarled from the front, clearly frustrated as his ambush began to fall apart.
“Quick, get inside!” I yelled.
With a roar, Boris finally created an opening, shouldering through the resistance. The divine warriors struck back desperately, surrounding him and striking from every angle. Even with Iron Body, some blows managed to slip through his defenses, and although he grunted, he didn’t stop.
The gap between Bet rank and Gimmel rank wasn’t something that could be overcome with just a signature skill. In fact, Boris was holding his own through sheer will and unyielding grit. If it were me in his shoes, I probably wouldn’t have been as tough.
Boris grunted as another blade scraped across his shoulder, leaving a shallow cut, but he didn’t flinch. With a ground-shaking stomp, he shoved two attackers back and cleared just enough space for Michelle to slip past him.
“I’m in!” Michelle called as she dashed through the archway of the Hall of Classes.
Boris gave one final heave, grabbing the closest divine warrior by the collar and hurling him sideways into another. The two collided with a thud, tumbling across the ground. With that opening, Boris sprinted ahead and barreled through the threshold.
“You better follow quick, lad!” he bellowed over his shoulder.
But just as I turned to join them, several divine warriors—Ryan’s men—rushed in to block the path. They were adamant not to let me in, forming a wall of steel. The entrance was now completely sealed off.
As soon as both of them crossed the threshold, any attack that the assailants threw at them was bounced by a faint shimmer of light across the entrance. Just as expected, the Hall’s protection protocol activated upon entry and would prohibit any attackers from chasing inside. Graham’s forces couldn’t pursue them inside without violating Fantasia’s laws.
Ryan’s expression twisted as he slammed a fist into the barrier, only for the magic to repel it harmlessly. “Tch…! Cowards!” he hissed, then turned to me. “Too bad you missed your chance. Guess that leaves just you. Well, no matter, you’re all we need.”
I didn’t flinch at his words and the overwhelming hostility directed at me. Instead, I smirked and raised my sword slowly.
“Maxim, get in!” Michelle’s voice cried from behind the barrier. She looked like she was about to dash back out to assist.
“Lad, let me help you.” Even Boris didn’t hesitate to help.
“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t worry about me. You two complete your class advancements. That’s what matters now.”
She hesitated, confused. “What do you mean?”
Without speaking aloud, I mouthed the words: I’ve already done mine.
Her eyes widened slightly as realization dawned. “Are you sure you’ll be fine?” she asked, still lingering near the barrier.
“I said go,” I replied firmly without looking back.
Boris’s voice followed, calm and steady. “Let’s go, missy. Don’t make the lad fight for nothing. The sooner we complete our class advancement, the sooner we’ll be able to help him.”
“But… okay. Be careful, Maxim,” said Michelle as they entered the building.
I waited until both of them disappeared from view, then turned my full attention back to Ryan and his gang. They had begun to slowly encircle me again, emboldened by what they assumed was my foolish sacrifice.
“What’s this?” Ryan taunted with a smirk. “Did you finally man up, or are you just showing off before getting wrecked?”
“Ha! It’s nothing that fancy.” I dismissed his mockery with a calm shrug. “I alone am enough to beat all of you.”
Even if I had just recently advanced to Gimmel rank, I had the confidence to stand alone against them, especially since none of them had crossed into Daleth rank. Even if I couldn’t win against them all, I could easily escape. Furthermore, in case the worst came to worst, Raphael owed me a favor and would intervene if asked.
Still, I doubted it would come to it.
“Seeking death, huh? Fine!” Ryan snapped, raising his sword. “Men, attack—”
“Enough!”
That single word echoed across the plaza like a thunderclap, freezing Ryan mid-motion. A heavy pressure descended on the area, tense and suffocating, as a lone figure entered the scene.
From behind Ryan’s formation, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a jagged scar running diagonally across his face strode slowly. He wore pristine black armor laced with silver trim, a massive greatsword strapped to his back. His gaze locked onto mine—calm, cold, and calculating.
There was no mistaking him.
It was none other than Graham, the leader of this mercenary group.
