Translator: CinderTL
The arrogant declaration had barely left Hagrid's lips before a wave of suppressed unrest and hushed murmurs rippled through the Rust Knights behind him, preempting any response from Roland and his group.
A voice, thick with confusion, muttered, "Hey! Boss! When did you become the chief of our order? Isn't Lord Donde our chief? We—"
"Shut up, you fool!"
Hagrid whipped his head around, his gaze from beneath the visor cutting like a cold blade as he brutally silenced the outspoken rider.
The knight immediately fell silent, cowering as he shrank back.
After reprimanding his subordinate, Hagrid turned back to Roland and the others, dismissing the incident as if it were nothing more than irrelevant noise.
He deliberately, almost boastfully, flexed his four unusually armored arms, the metal joints emitting a faint grinding sound.
Then, his voice rose again, brimming with a superiority born from his physical mutation.
"Do you see now, Veilbreakers? And you blind fools!"
The latter half was clearly directed at his own men.
"This is the clearest revelation and gift bestowed upon me by the heavens, by this very land! Even our noble chief, Lord Donde—"
His voice carried a trace of imperceptible contempt as he mentioned the name.
"He possesses but three arms, the mere symbols of strength! But I, Hagrid, possess four! Does this not prove the matter beyond all doubt?"
One of his arms slammed heavily against his thick breastplate, producing a dull thud. His voice rang with unquestionable certainty.
"This unparalleled innate talent, this form that transcends the mortal realm, has already foretold all! Before long, the position of Commander of the Rust Knight Order is destined to be mine, Hagrid's!"
The riders immediately began to cheer with admiration at his words, while those aboard the shell ship watched from above.
"Rudolph..."
Durga leaned against the ship's railing, squinting as he surveyed the raucous scene below. He turned to Roland and whispered, "What is that four-armed freak down there shouting about? But I must say..."
He cast his gaze back to Hagrid, who was still flaunting his extra limbs, and couldn't help but shudder. "That freak... is several times uglier than the two-headed trolls I've seen in the depths of my mines."
Faced with Durga's confusion, Roland, who was encountering such a situation for the first time, also found his mind filled with mist.
Yet, as he observed the reverence and envy on the Rust Knights' faces at Hagrid's words, a theory began to take shape in his mind.
This group seems to have undergone some kind of physical mutation for an unknown reason, he mused. And in this so-called "Rust Knight Order," the degree of mutation appears to directly correlate with their rank.
His thoughts racing, Roland stepped forward and spoke up, his voice cutting clearly through the low howl of the wasteland wind.
"We are merely travelers passing through, with no intention of trespassing on your territory. Our vehicle broke down upon arrival, and we will depart on our own once the repairs are complete."
"Oh? Just passing through for repairs?"
Hagrid listened, his greedy gaze undisguised as it swept over the shell ship's streamlined, rune-covered hull. After a moment, he casually waved one of his arms, speaking with a veneer of false tolerance.
"That's all well and good, but..."
His tone shifted, now laced with calculation.
"This land is under our jurisdiction. Your big toy is parked here, taking up our space. Don't you think... you should pay a docking fee?"
At this blatant extortion, Roland's eyes turned cold.
Roland gently patted Avril's tense forearm, signaling her to remain calm. A faint, amused smile touched his lips as he spoke, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.
"Oh? And in your estimation, what exactly would we need to pay?"
Seeing this, Hagrid assumed Roland was backing down. He let out a triumphant chuckle, his multiple arms rubbing together with a harsh, metallic rasp.
"Simple! You outsiders don't look particularly wealthy. How about this: once you've repaired your ship, you 'mortgage' it to us for a while as compensation. How does that sound?"
He deliberately emphasized the word "mortgage," his true intentions painfully obvious.
"Heh..."
Roland let out a cold sneer, his hand slowly tightening around the hilt of his sword.
"And... what if we refuse?"
"Hmm?"
Caught off guard by the blunt refusal, Hagrid froze for a moment. Then, as if insulted, he tapped his helmeted face, his voice turning dark and menacing.
"In that case... I'm afraid you have no choice!"
But before his threat could even fully land—
Swish!
An arrow infused with mana, like a silver bolt of lightning tearing through the gloomy sky, shot from Avril's drawn bow.
With a sharp whiz through the air, the arrow shot straight for Hagrid's face with unerring precision.
But just as it was about to pierce his visor—
Voom!
With a dull thud, a murky, flickering green energy flared on the chestplate of his armor.
The moment the arrow struck this unknown energy, it seemed to hit an invisible, viscous wall, its trajectory violently deflecting. With a harsh screech of friction, it scraped past the edge of his helmet and flew into the distance, leaving only a few dissipating sparks of energy in the air.
"Hmm?"
Seeing this, a flicker of doubt crossed Roland's mind.
A spell? No... that's not right. There was no ripple of magic elements. This felt more like...
His gaze shifted to Avril beside him. The elf girl wore a ring on her drawing finger, set with a stone that looked like the same murky crystal.
A pre-charged, passively triggered magical artifact?
The thought flashed through his mind.
But the battle left no time for contemplation.
Seeing that Avril's surprise attack had failed, Roland immediately barked an order.
"Durga, protect the Shell Ship!"
Before his words had even faded, Roland had already planted one foot on the high ship's railing.
His leg muscles coiled and snapped tight in an instant. He launched himself into the air like a bolt from a crossbow, or an eagle that had spotted its prey, descending from the shell ship with a fierce, piercing momentum straight toward the Rust Knight Order below.
By then, the riders below had finally reacted.
One rider stared in shock at Roland's descent and roared, "Hey! Boss! These bastards aren't planning to hand over the goods quietly—they're attacking!"
"Shut your damn mouth!" Hagrid snarled, slamming a fist into the rider's helmet with a sharp clang.
Then, he swung all four of his arms forward, pointing toward the spot where Roland was falling. His voice grew even more shrill with rage. "Attack! Crush them!"
At his command, the Rust Knights let out eerie whistles, spurring their mutated steeds into a frenzy. They kicked up a storm of dust as they charged forward like a broken dam, a muddy torrent of steel.
But before the iron tide could even fully form its charge...
BOOM!
Roland slammed into the center of the charging ranks like a falling meteor.
The massive impact shook the very ground, instantly kicking up a cloud of dust.
Immediately after, a visible, dark-red ripple—reeking of blood—erupted from the point of impact. Like a giant stone thrown into a still lake, it surged outward in a violent, expanding ring.
This wave was no mere energy blast; it carried a palpable, heart-stopping aura of battle intent and murderous killing intent.
The first few rust rider to be hit, along with their mutated mounts, were struck as if by an invisible giant hammer. They were thrown from their saddles with agonized screams. The grotesque horses had their limbs shattered, rolling and thrashing on the ground in a fresh storm of dust.
A single landing-induced Battle Qi eruption had utterly shattered the charging formation, leaving the center completely empty.
Yet, to Roland's astonishment, not a single Rust Knight thrown to the ground by his devastating battle qi shockwave was seriously injured or killed.
They simply scrambled up, shaking their heads to clear the cobwebs, and snatched up their scattered weapons. As if oblivious to pain, they closed in on Roland once more, the savagery in their eyes only burning brighter.
Seeing this, Roland's heart suddenly tightened.
From the very beginning, his keen senses had already captured that these Rust Knights' bodies were abnormally tough. The aura within them seemed to form some strange resonance with the stagnant magic elements in the surrounding air, making their vitality exceptionally tenacious.
But that was all.
He was certain that not a single one of these men had stepped into the Transcendent Realm.
And the battle qi shockwave he had just unleashed, though not at full power, was enough to make the qi and blood of an ordinary transcendent professional churn and be unable to withstand it.
Yet these knights, who clearly had not reached the transcendent level, seemed to have been merely knocked down by a strong wind, and in the blink of an eye, they could throw themselves back into battle.
"What is going on?"
Doubt coiled around Roland's heart like a venomous snake.
As his thoughts raced, a Rust Knight roared and charged forward, sword raised.
Without a moment's hesitation, the dragon bloodline within Roland's body surged and roared. A tremendous strength poured into his arm, and the Radiant Moon Longsword, carrying a piercing shriek that tore through the air, swept out in a casual horizontal slash.
Bang!
A deafening crash, far exceeding the impact of ordinary metal clashing, erupted.
But the sound was bizarrely wrong. It seemed to possess some energy-absorbing property, as if the sound itself had lost the strength to propagate, leaving only a dull, muffled thud.
The Rust Knight who had blocked Roland's strike was sent skidding backward as if struck by a battering ram. His heavy metal boots plowed two deep furrows in the ground, stretching dozens of meters. Yet, he maintained his two-handed guard, sword still raised.
Once he regained his footing, he merely shook his trembling arms. Muffled curses echoed from beneath his visor, suggesting he was largely unharmed.
Roland narrowed his eyes, his sharp gaze instantly locking onto the enemy's weapon.
Not only is his body unscathed, but the blade... didn't even chip? No, that's not right.
Only now did Roland notice the peculiar nature of the weapons wielded by these Rust Knights.
Those were no ordinary swords.
Their designs were crude and utilitarian, bearing the obvious marks of industrial forging. But what truly drew the eye was the unusually thick spine of the blades and the peculiar structure of their hilts.
The hilt was no simple grip, but a complex core forged from a dark, dull metal. At its center, a fist-sized device—resembling a piece of turbid crystal or some strange engine—turned slowly, emitting a faint, unstable fluctuation of energy. This energy shared the same source as the stagnant mana in the surrounding air, yet it was far more concentrated.
The fluctuations resonated faintly with the knights' armor and their mutated bodies, forming what seemed to be a complete, twisted energy cycle.
These weapons were no mere iron.
They were the key to the Rust Knights' ability to withstand extraordinary power head-on...
(End of the Chapter)
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