Chapter 249: The White Blur

Kellar found himself cornered in the chaos. A moment later, the youth vanished from sight, leaving behind the distortion of compressed air. In a surge of panic against the invisible threat, Kellar unleashed [Fire Wall], raising a curtain of flames around himself.

"I wasn’t there!" mocked the masked youth, his voice echoing from the air right behind the shaman.

Feeling the steel about to strike his neck, Kellar roared in desperation:

"[Mana Shield]!"

A defensive sphere of energy encased Kellar in the second the auditor’s blade collided with it.

CRASH-RATTLE!

The force of the impact caused the barrier to vibrate, cracking it and making it tremble under the weight of the blow.

With his barrier giving way and death a breath away, Kellar grit his teeth and screamed with all his might:

"FREYJA...!"

A white blur shot across the battlefield at a speed that defied mortal eyes. The masked youth’s expression shifted; his arrogance dissolved into alertness. Reacting on instinct, he raised his weapon in time to block a strike before executing a leap backward to create distance.

CLANG!

The masked fighter landed in the snow, searching around him. Yet the white blur reappeared from a different angle. The youth leaped into the air searching for the source of the threat, but found nothing; it was like trying to chase the wind. The white streak continued to strike him time and time again from the shadows, forcing him into a defense.

While the masked youth was pinned down defending against the invisible onslaught, Ignis—still cornered and struggling against the two muscle-bound auditors—let out a roar of pain and fury.

Hearing the war bear’s call, the white blur shifted targets, diving straight toward the two flesh giants.

"NO!" shrieked the masked youth from afar, anticipating the move.

Before the first muscle giant could react or raise his arms, the white trail swept across his neck. In the blink of an eye, the auditor’s massive head flew through the air, spraying a geyser of blood across the snow.

The second giant froze for a second at his companion’s decapitation. Ignis showed no mercy: the war bear tackled him to the ground, sank his jaws into his stomach, and began devouring him alive, unleashing every ounce of suppressed rage from the battle in each tear.

Cold sweat began to trace down the iron-masked youth’s forehead, soaking the inner padding of his helm. For the first time since stepping into the gorge as an untouchable evaluator, the shadow of panic gripped his chest. His breathing grew shallow and frantic; his eyes darted behind the dark metal slits, trying to catch the slightest distortion in the snow or air.

A few paces before him, Ignis finished tearing through the remains of the second muscle auditor, unleashing a blood-soaked roar that rattled the rocky bed. Flanking the war bear, Fenrir bared spectral fangs with a growl while Little Green kept her wings flared, ready to plunge into another dive.

In the center of the perimeter, Kellar strode forward with heavy steps, gripping the Overlord Club with bloodshot eyes as a storm of dark mana surged around him like a cloak of retribution.

"Impossible..." muttered the masked youth, taking a step back into the snow, his blade trembling in his grip. "My evaluators... severed, slaughtered in seconds... What kind of tribe is this?! What kind of monsters are you?!"

He scanned his surroundings for an escape route, but he knew the slightest slip or burst of speed would trigger the combined onslaught of all three war beasts—and worse, the invisible blade of the white shadow lingering in the void, waiting for the moment he lowered his guard to sever his head.

"You said you wanted to see my greatness, didn’t you?" declared Kellar in a low tone that made the auditor’s skin crawl. "Don’t get distracted now... the evaluation has only just begun."

From the rear of the formation, Prince Caelen and General Valerius watched the scene with horror and disbelief. Witnessing two of the Royal Auditors mutilated and devoured in seconds, while the third—the king’s supersonic pride—trembled in panic cornered by the beasts and an invisible force, shattered the chain of command’s morale.

"This... this is impossible!" stammered Caelen with pale lips, backing toward his mount with trembling hands. "They are monsters! That tribe is a nest of demons!"

General Valerius, bleeding from his wounds and his armor dented, ground his teeth. He knew full well that continuing the battle meant the total annihilation of the vanguard. If the masked youth fell executed right then and there, there would be no official report to save; only a slaughter would remain.

"Secure the prince!" bellowed Valerius toward his honor guard, pulling out his bronze war horn with the steady arm he had left. "Retreat! General retreat toward the gorge! Maintain shield defense formation and fall back right now!"

The deep blast of the horn echoed across the valley, sending a shockwave of disarray through the ranks of the thousand legionnaires. The heavy infantry began yielding ground, dragging the surviving war mages and bracing their tower shields in an attempt to cover their escape as the Golden Rose legion crumbled into a retreat.

At the exact moment the order to retreat echoed across the valley and the legion turned back in panic, the window opened for the village defenses. As the heavy infantry broke ranks to fall back, their backs were left exposed, breaking the tower shield formation.

"FIRE AT WILL!" boomed the thunderous order from atop the ramparts.

The tribe’s soldiers sheltered behind the wooden walls didn’t waste a second. Dozens of marksmen stepped into view, rested their firearms against the parapet, and began riddling the fleeing legion with gunfire. Without their front shields to stop the heavy bronze rounds, each blast tore through enchanted steel armor like paper. The strikes began claiming dozens of lives every second, littering the rocky riverbed with corpses and wounded men.

The tribe’s warriors, seeing the enemy colossus crumbling, swarmed the Golden Rose’s rear guard with ferocity. They looked like a pack of hungry hyenas tearing into a wounded elephant, butchering stragglers and pinning down any units attempting to cover the prince’s escape.

In the midst of the carnage, the iron-masked auditor ground his teeth so hard he felt blood pooling in his mouth.

Damn cowards! Damn it all, you’re supposed to be the kingdom’s elite! thought he, burning with fury. He wanted with every fiber of his being to burst forward at supersonic speed, scale the rampart, and slaughter every marksman picking off the legion.

Yet he did not dare lower his guard for a second.

Any impulsive move would be his death sentence. Ignis, Fenrir, and Little Green kept their sights locked onto him, while the white blur—invisible and relentless—continued to stalk him from the void, grazing his skin with freezing wind slashes and reminding him that the true evaluation—that of his own survival—was drawing to a close.