The Great Warrior Vidar had no need for weapons.
His body itself was the ultimate weapon.
“Hehehehehehe…”
A chilling laugh.
He was merely standing still, and yet the explosive pressure radiating from him was palpable.
Tronius Ether understood.
He could tell because he had clashed with this monster countless times.
[Stop.]
The shackles on the monster were released.
Until now, Vidar had been forced to hold himself back against Tronius Ether.
An Archmage on the battlefield was a threat in and of itself.
As the leader of a group, Vidar had no choice but to focus on suppressing Tronius Ether, who unleashed large-scale magic.
But now, the situation had reversed.
With the shackles removed, the monster could no longer be contained.
And Tronius Ether’s prediction proved correct.
“……!”
Boom!
Even with all kinds of restraints layered on him through spellbinding words, Vidar leapt forward as if nothing was holding him back.
A bizarre power. Innate physical ability enhanced by shamanistic magic.
A brutish hand shot straight toward Tronius Ether’s face.
Whoosh!
But the blow tore through empty air.
And only then did Vidar become aware of the presence of another Archmage on the battlefield.
“As expected!”
One of the Empire’s officially recognized Three Archmages.
Olga Hermod, master of illusion and spatial magic. Her command over space was absolute.
As Tronius vanished like a mirage, Vidar couldn’t help but click his tongue.
Even his resistance, bolstered by shamanistic spells, couldn’t break through Olga Hermod’s illusion magic. It was, indeed, formidable.
“That’s nauseating.”
Brushing off that absurd power with a single comment, Vidar moved again.
Trusting nothing but instinct, he began tearing across the battlefield.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
With every step he took, the ground quaked. His massive body tore through the paved roads like a beast, trampling all in his path.
“Now I’m getting used to this!”
His movements finally shattered Olga Hermod’s spatial control.
With sheer force of presence alone, he had seized control of the space.
“Hmph!”
Once more, his hand swung out.
Like a furious bear’s strike. It was clumsy, simple, and brutal…
Baaaaaaaang!!
But knowing the attack was coming didn’t mean you could block or dodge it.
“Ghh…!”
And yet, even this time, Vidar failed to capture Tronius.
Because the Black Knight Lanius stepped in between them and boldly blocked the blow.
“That tingled a bit.”
“So, you’re the Black Knight!”
Vidar blinked in surprise, as if it was his first time seeing someone block his attack head-on.
Then, a vicious, wicked grin spread across his face.
There were very few who could block his strike like that.
And among those who might show up here. This one was exactly who he’d expected.
The Black Knight Lanius who was considered the Empire’s strongest after Emperor Abraham.
He was more than a worthy opponent.
“Huahahahaha!!”
He clawed at the sky.
He trampled the earth.
Every action he took manifested as absurd, overwhelming violence.
The very space brushed by his body crumbled like brittle candy.
Vidar felt no resistance at all throughout the process.
“Khmm!”
Even approaching Vidar’s presence was a burden to Lanius.
Despite Tronius Ether’s incantations weighing down Vidar’s body, and Olga Hermod’s illusion magic distorting his senses to the limit—
He was still rampaging like a mad beast.
No wonder that rookie Tronius kept whining.
This was also Lanius’s first time facing the Great Warrior head-on.
He’d had a few chances to observe him from afar, but never had he witnessed this raw, feral violence up close.
And now, standing before Vidar, Lanius suddenly thought of the sun.
A man so fierce, so blinding….he could be compared to the burning sun shining down from the sky.
Was he, right now, aiming his spear at the sun itself?
“Blasphemy!”
Lanius shouted.
How dare he compare another to the sun while the Emperor still lived?
He couldn’t help but feel enraged at himself for even thinking such a thing.
“I’ll kill you and prove my loyalty.”
“I don’t know what kind of nonsense you’re spouting, but fine. Come at me, Black Knight!”
Vidar, a being whose very existence could be likened to the sun.
And standing before him was an old knight clad head to toe in black armor.
Like a shadow before the sun, his presence seemed insignificant.
And yet…
“In the name of His Imperial Majesty.”
Boom!
The Black Knight stepped forward toward the blazing sun.
In that moment, the shadow spread—
No, it felt as if it spread.
Vidar felt a tingle in his fingertips from the pressure Lanius exuded, crashing toward him like a tidal wave.
Even this ferocious beast, standing atop the battlefield, experienced a primal fear.
“I shall prepare your execution ground.”
The Knight of the Guillotine.
Commander of that order—
The Black Knight Lanius readied the strike he was most proud of.
The spear’s tip turned pitch black.
Power compressed to the very edge of its limits began to swallow even the colors of the world.
And the moment that darkness found its target—
The sun lost its color.
***
The beast that devoured the sun and moon….Varg.
A creature once only found in myth, like many other divine beings, it was buried by the passage of time and wiped from memory by human hands.
After Emperor Abraham ascended the throne, he began erasing the traces of such entities.
Why?
Because once they became objects of worship, they became a nuisance.
Varg was a beast.
And those who revered beasts could never be expected to hold proper faith.
True faith is something that defies logic and reason. And once that takes root, it is nearly impossible to change their minds or break their beliefs.
So instead, he buried the gods they worshipped.
Erased them….until time itself forgot.
But embers—
You never know when or where they’ll catch fire again.
Their mistake was failing to erase just one phrase: “Varg’s Curse.”
During the time Vidar lived, discrimination against beastkin was severe.
It was an era where they couldn’t even dream of seeing a doctor let alone get proper medicine.
As a result, his younger sibling died.
Unable to receive even a simple painkiller, they died in agony.
How could the world be so cruel to us? We were merely born….how could that be a sin?
Vidar was tormented.
The curse that had claimed his sibling was now gnawing away at his own body.
Hiding from the light in a small, sealed room, Vidar turned his eyes toward the sun in defiance.
Light that pierced the skin.
Pain that shook him to the core.
Vidar endured it all.
He even threw off the clothes that had shielded him, standing bare before the sun—
A challenge hurled at the world, at the sun itself.
Varg, why did you curse the world?
Standing on the edge of death, Vidar came to understand how Varg’s curse had begun.
The beast that devoured the sun and moon had died.
Even a monster on par with the gods was eventually slain by the greatest weapon of all. It was time.
But traces remained.
They lived on through faith.
And when the Empire tried to erase even those remnants—
The curse began to awaken.
In the end, you were just a beast.
A survival instinct.
Desperate to leave behind its mark, it scattered itself across the world.
Not out of hatred—
But as the frenzied struggle of a beast trying to live.
Then I shall become your champion. There is no sin in the will to survive.
The scholar who once raised his voice for rights gradually transformed into a fighter who wielded violence against the world’s injustices.
Time had changed him, and the more he learned about the world, the more undeniable its unfairness became.
The barbarians were the branded ones.
Even peaceful beastkin living quietly in rural villages were lumped in as barbarians and slaughtered without the chance to explain.
It was the Empire that created the barbarians.
Like so many other races before them, the two had been pushed to a point where coexistence was no longer possible.
I know it was inevitable.
Though clad in the guise of a barbarian, Vidar was a scholar.
He understood the reasoning behind the Empire’s decisions.
Their methods were crude and brutal, but… in some twisted sense, it might have been the way to spill the least blood.
And yet, Varg’s choice was no different from the Empire’s.
All it had wanted was to survive.
That was why it struggled, why it scattered its curse across the world—
In the hope that someone would remember.
“Then I will devour the sun they call the Empire.”
Vidar chose to lead the beastkin as Varg’s champion.
He knew he couldn’t speak for every beastkin who lived in this world.
But he understood what must be done for their sake.
To fight until the end and seize justice for the barbarians who once rose for their rights.
Or—
To be annihilated entirely, leaving not even a trace of the word “barbarian” behind.
An absolute choice between extremes.
Vidar could feel it—
The end was near.
“I am not the sun.”
Vidar who was covered in blood looked up at the imperial palace.
His body was battered and torn, yet his spirit remained unshaken.
“I’m the beast that devours the sun.”
He had defeated every formidable foe that stood in his way.
Black Knight Lanius lay shattered against a wall, limbs broken.
The two Archmages collapsed, coughing blood.
All the mighty warriors the Empire took pride in had been crushed by his fists and feet.
He had killed hundreds here.
Only the strongest among them remained alive.
“Well, it doesn’t matter.”
Though the two Archmages were no longer fit to fight, finishing them off felt pointless.
As a barbarian, he knew best. A wounded beast is at its most dangerous.
And the one he most wished to kill, the Black Knight…. he couldn’t.
No, he wouldn’t.
He wasn’t about to waste his strength on them now.
“Come forth, Emperor! Sun of the Empire! The beast that will swallow you whole has arrived!”
Craack!
Vidar kicked the castle gates.
Made of a special alloy, the gate buckled from the force of a single strike.
Boooom!
The second kick was all it took.
At last, Vidar who was still branded a barbarian set foot inside the imperial palace.
And awaiting him there was…
“Step aside, princess. You’re no match for me. Or is your emperor such a coward that he hides behind a brat like you?”
“You go too far.”
It was the Empire’s Third Princess, Lobelia Vicious von Miltonia.
The moment Vidar saw her face, his own twisted with rage.
It was only natural.
Those who had stood ready to block his path earlier were all either warriors strong enough to take on a hundred men or part of a tightly coordinated unit with a clear tactical plan.
And now, Lobelia, who had already lost to him once, appeared.
A young, green novice. Someone who didn’t even deserve to be here.
She looked like nothing more than a sacrificial pawn meant to buy time.
“I can see right through you. Typical of a barbarian, I suppose.”
“Then step aside. I doubt you want to die a dog’s death.”
“I can’t do that.”
Crackle!
Lobelia clenched her fist.
Red lightning sparked from her hand and spread outward.
“If His Majesty steps in, that would truly mean the worst has come.”
Abraham is strong.
There’s no denying that.
But that’s exactly why Lobelia believed he must not take the field.
He is a symbol.
As Emperor, he must remain lofty and unshaken.
A situation where he’s forced to rise from his throne should never happen.
Such a moment would signal that the Empire itself is in peril.
And the already unstable Empire could not afford to waver further.
“And I have no intention of dying a dog’s death either.”
“Is that so?”
There was no need for more words.
Rather than try to persuade Lobelia, Vidar chose action.
His body was still heavy, but someone like Lobelia should be easy to handle.
Or so he thought…
“Hmm.”
When his opening strike barely short of an ambush failed, Vidar had no choice but to admit it.
“How irritating.”
Lobelia still wasn’t strong enough to truly stand against him.
But…
“Is that so?”
It didn’t seem like he could take her down so easily, either.
Her movements had changed drastically. They were incomparably different from before.
It wasn’t just a matter of speed.
Lobelia darted through the air, leaping and weaving unpredictably, toying with Vidar.
“That’s not a bad assessment.”
It was one of the key abilities she should have mastered long ago.
The magic Ariel should have created when she reached the transcendent stage.
[Leap of Freedom]
After years of hardship, her time had finally begun to move forward again.
“Ariel would be pleased.”
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