Lance Charging on the Arkship, but No Mount

After fighting the other races for so long, he had never imagined that a nation could be so cruel to its own citizens, to its own kind. In some people's eyes, the Infected were no longer human. They were objects, beasts, livestock that could be slaughtered for hide and meat.

Looking at the scene before him, Claude once again found his mission—the mission he was meant to accomplish in this world.

PS: I'll post earlier from now on.

A New Beginning: Pests

"Order the Fourth Battalion of the Third Legion to move up and hold the line. Rotate the Second Battalion out."

A finger clad in a heavy iron gauntlet traced across the map. The elderly man with graying hair stood sternly before the table in full plate armor. His armor was extravagantly ornate, covered in intricate golden patterns. But upon closer inspection, those patterns were more than mere decoration. They contained numbers and locations.

'1203.5.2, Kolster Territory,' '1203.9.23, Shadow Valley,' and '1208.2.03, Ailan Territory.' These dates and places blended into the patterns, displaying the armor's owner's glory without compromising its overall beauty.

Upon hearing the man's order, a messenger waiting inside the tent immediately turned and left. He mounted his scarred clawbeast and rushed toward the front lines.

Looking ahead in the direction he traveled, there lay an open plain wedged between several massive peaks. It should have been the season of lush vegetation, yet the land was covered in scorched smoke, filled with overwhelming cries of battle.

Across the plain, a black torrent of steel collided with a green army. They crushed against one another as bright red liquid continuously spilled forth and seeped into the earth, staining the ground with filthy shades of black, red, and yellow. Miracles wrought by magic filled the sky and erupted everywhere.

Massive fireballs, enormous bolts of lightning, and even freezing blasts of cold constantly flew from the green sea. They slammed into the black formation of steel. These attacks appeared powerful enough to shatter an army formation outright, yet they only smashed apart against the silent steel, achieving nothing close to their intended effect. Looking closely, every time these mighty attacks struck the formation, lights lit up on the silent soldiers' bodies. Their lights linked together and formed a vast web, like a spiderweb catching flies and mosquitoes. The immense force was dispersed among every soldier in the formation, becoming negligible.

The black iron curtain rolled forward unstoppably, gradually swallowing the green. Armored elven warriors within the green formation were engulfed by the iron tide, hacked down by swords, pierced by spears, and severed by halberds and great axes.

Towering treants were dragged down by chains. Then knights wielding battle axes stepped forward and chopped them apart one by one. Black knights, both rider and mount armored, formed tight formations and charged into the elves' archers. Their infantry could no longer protect them. Fragile limbs were trampled apart, flesh and blood ground into the mud, until the entire formation was pierced through and split apart.

The green army was retreating step by step. The knight standing outside the tent wore a delighted expression and was about to report the news when he suddenly realized that his legion commander was standing beside him.

Xu Lin watched the compressed green formation, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

"Send the order. The First through Fourth Air Knight Squadrons are to prepare for departure."

The guard knight was about to relay the order when he suddenly saw his legion commander put on his helmet. Though somewhat hesitant, he still spoke up.

"My lord, they are already at the end of their strength. Two Air Knight Squadrons would be enough to deal with them. There is no need for you to risk yourself..."

"I am not so old that I cannot move. Stop wasting words and prepare yourself as well."

"As you command."

After putting on all his equipment, he came before his old companion, Hart. It was no longer young, yet it remained as strong as ever.

He stroked the golden feathers atop his griffin's head, placed his feet in the stirrups, and swung himself onto its back. Looking behind him, he saw that all two thousand air knights had mounted their beasts. Without a word, they quietly waited for their legion commander's command.

He raised one hand and lightly clenched it into a fist. Almost at the same moment, every knight urged their mount onward. The griffins' wings began beating continuously. Two thousand griffins flapped their wings at once, filling the field with swirling dust. The gale raised by their wings made the surrounding logistics personnel unable to keep their footing.

Hart's four sharp claws slowly left the ground. Violent wind elements gathered beneath its wings. With a sweep of his elbow, a vast shadow shot into the sky. Fierce wind poured through the gaps in his helmet. Before long, they had reached the high heavens, seeming close enough to touch the clouds.

Watching the elves below retreat again and again, Xu Lin's eyes gleamed with cold indifference. He gently pulled the reins. Hart understood, folding its wings and diving from the sky. The air knights behind him followed in succession.

Violent wind poured into his helmet and battered his cheeks. For a time, he could hear nothing else, only the shriek of torn air. They drew closer and closer until their sky-covering shadows fell over the elves. Looking at those panicked faces, every knight drew a Dragonbreath Javelin from behind their waist.

The next moment, raging flames swept across the entire battlefield. After three consecutive bombardments, the knights drew their lances and charged toward the elves, who had begun to collapse.

The griffins dove again and again, extending their two-foot claws to rake through the formations, leaving scattered severed limbs behind. Four-meter lances stirred up a bloody storm among the enemy. They pierced without the slightest hesitation. There was only a fleeting chance. As long as they still stood on this battlefield, he would show no mercy.

He raised his lance high and savagely brought it down upon an elf riding a great-antlered deer.

Bang!!

Sizzle, sizzle...

A heavy halberd cleaved a mine guard into the wall, splattering scarlet blood across its entire surface. The unmatched force carved a broad crack into the wall.

A hand wrapped in heavy armor grasped the halberd and wrenched it free from the wall with a pull. The body split in two fell to the ground along with the weapon, entrails spilling from the severed torso. He was still alive, letting out a hoarse scream, but the halberd's owner did not spare him a glance as he stepped past him.

He took two steps forward and stopped before a middle-aged Infected man. This Infected had clearly suffered terribly. Though his eyes were numb, he still instinctively retreated two steps upon seeing the newcomer, simply because the visitor was too tall and too frightening.

The man who had killed the guard stood around three meters tall, with an immensely burly build and heavy armor covering his entire body. Yet the most terrifying thing was his face. It resembled a deer skull, though it was unclear whether it was a helmet or his actual appearance. Two pairs of heavily branched antlers, like dead tree limbs, grew from his head. Blinding scarlet light shone from his eye sockets, making people afraid to meet his gaze.

"Those who want to live, follow us."

Without another word, Patriot turned and left. He joined a group of heavily armored warriors waiting outside. Every one of them wore thick armor and carried a towering shield.

Patriot looked up at the sky. Hoarse, heavy breathing came from beneath his mask. He was in a very bad mood. Today, they had attacked two mines in total, but only one had succeeded. For some unknown reason, the guards at the first mine had slaughtered all the Infected beforehand. It made him unusually angry. After killing every guard there, he feared that the second mine might suffer the same fate, so he hurried over.

Fortunately, this mine had not suffered the same fate. Aside from those who had died from abuse, nearly all the Infected inside were still alive, though they were in terrible condition.

Turning around, he saw the shield guards escorting the remaining Infected toward their camp. Even if they had rescued these Infected, their poor physical condition would not be enough to support them all the way to an Infected village. They had to bring them back to camp first and give them something to eat.

He was not someone who hesitated for long. He quickly picked up his weapon and caught up with the group.

An Infected little girl had only walked for a short while before she collapsed in the snow from exhaustion. Her clothes were terribly thin, and she wore no shoes. Her feet were covered in frostbite that oozed yellow pus. She struggled to stand because she did not know what these fierce-looking soldiers would do if they saw her lying motionless on the ground. But she could not get up. She had barely eaten anything today, aside from moss picked from cracks between rocks.

She and her parents had been captured and brought here. The people who captured them said they were Infected. She did not know what that meant. She only knew that after that, she could no longer get much to eat, nor did she have warm clothes to wear. Her father had died a few days ago. He had given her all of his daily food, leaving himself weak and exhausted until he worked himself to death.

Her mother had died even earlier, but not from starvation. She had been beaten to death by the guards. Her father had wanted to fight them to the death, but the others had held him back. They were not worried about her father. They were only afraid he would implicate them.

Her body was weak and powerless, and she could not stand no matter what she did. A huge shadow loomed over her. Her final attempt failed, so she simply stopped moving and lay in the snow.

This is fine too. This way, I should be able to see Father and Mother.

The little girl thought to herself. She gave up struggling and waited for someone to kill her.

A huge hand grabbed the clothes on her back and lifted her up like a little rabbit.

"Do not sleep in the snow. You will die here." A deep, hoarse voice reached her. She felt herself enter an embrace made of steel. It was hard and cold, yet it gave her a long-lost sense of safety. Instinctively, she curled up and tried her best to press herself deeper into that embrace.

Patriot looked at the little girl curled up in his arms. This child reminded him of his daughter. Of course, not his biological daughter. He had also rescued his daughter, Yelena, from a mine. Back then, she had suddenly awakened her Originium Arts and killed the guards. When he found her, her Originium Arts had been on the verge of losing control. When she lay weakly on the ground, he had picked her up. That piercing cold had even frozen his arms, but he had not let go. Not even for a moment.

He did not know what had happened to the country for which he had given most of his life. But he knew this situation was wrong. It needed to be corrected. There had to be unjust, wicked people who needed to be killed. After certain events occurred, he had resolved to resist this reality, to resist this injustice. But he knew no other method, and he could not understand where the root of it lay. He only knew his own method—killing.

He only knew how to kill people. As long as he killed those wicked people one after another, and killed more whenever more emerged, one day the Empire would return to its former prosperity. He was unwilling, and unable, to take any other path. Besides, he no longer had the chance or the time to choose.

Their camp lay ahead. From a distance, he could already see the distinctive birch tree at the roadside. Even the resilient shield guards could not help quickening their pace. The Infected also seemed to sense something and staggered after them.

"Big Daddy! You're back."

A snow monster in white clothing suddenly rose from the snow nearby. Patriot looked at one of his daughter's subordinates and nodded. Then he continued silently toward the camp. He did not see the snow monster behind her wearing an expression of hesitation, as if she wanted to tell him something but could not make up her mind.

Upon entering the camp, the lively atmosphere confused Patriot somewhat. Was there some happy occasion today? Why was everyone so cheerful?

With that question in mind, he continued forward. Only then did he clearly see the man sitting among the snow monsters.

The instant Patriot saw him clearly, he gripped his weapon. He set the child in his arms down behind him and shielded her with his body. The shield guards behind him also formed up and stood at his side.

"A Kazimierz knight. Why are you here?" The great halberd in Patriot's hand lit up with an ominous red glow. He had made up his mind. If this man had ill intentions and could not give a reason convincing enough, he would kill him on the spot.

"Mr. Patriot? I had intended to find you, but it seems we missed each other." Claude calmly walked up to Patriot, the savage halberd only a foot away from his head.

Patriot frowned at Claude. This knight actually dared stand so close to him, and he had not even drawn his sword. At this distance, even Kazimierz's Silverlance Pegasi would be unable to react before he was defeated. For a moment, Patriot was unsure who this person really was.

"Mr. Patriot, you're back. I have something very important to tell you." Talulah and Yelena emerged from the tent and came to stand beside Claude.

Patriot's frown deepened. Yelena was standing so close to a stranger. What exactly was going on?

Looking at the knight's face, Patriot inexplicably felt the anger in his heart rise.

Patriot's mood grew even worse.

A New Beginning: Taking a Day Off

The author's grandfather suddenly fell seriously ill today. He suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and was sent to the hospital for emergency treatment. I only just received the news. This is already the second time he has been hospitalized. He is an elderly man to begin with, and I do not know how this time will turn out. I still do not know his condition. I need to get to the hospital, so I will not be able to update today. Please understand.

A New Beginning: The Second Stage

The mine tunnel before him was where the Infected worked. Yes, it could only be described as a mine tunnel, because a real mine would have more support shafts to protect its workers, while this place had none. There was not only no protective equipment against Originium infection here, but not even steel beams to support the tunnels.

Naturally, such a place was unsuitable for ordinary people to work in. But the people working here were Infected. In the Ursus Empire, the Infected had no human rights. They were not treated as people. They could only work in Originium mines without any protective equipment. Mine collapses that occurred from time to time could easily claim dozens of Infected lives.

Under such circumstances, the Infected death rate was astonishing. Most Infected did not survive their first year here. But on Terra, where Originium formed the foundation of industry, there was never a shortage of people who became Infected for various reasons. To the mine guards, as long as Ursus still had civilians, they would never lack Infected laborers.

Originium was rarely seen within the first hundred meters of the mine tunnel, because the larger chunks had already been dug out by the Infected.

The mine guards rarely entered the tunnels because they faced a high risk of infection. Their only method of control was to seal off the mine entrance. The Infected could only live inside. The guards were certain there was nothing edible within, so if the Infected wanted to survive, they could only trade large quantities of ore for meager food.

Every so often, the guards would gather and dispose of elderly Infected unable to work, as well as severely infected individuals. Dead Infected corpses could be seen everywhere in the mine tunnels.

Claude walked through this mine tunnel wearing a protective mask. Long before coming to Ursus, he had prepared many of them. He knew how dangerous what he was about to do would be. To guard against every possibility, he had made ample preparations long ago.

As he walked, Claude recalled today's meeting with Patriot, Boccas. That man was a true warrior. War had fused into his blood. Yet he was also a stubborn old man, stubborn to a degree that was exceedingly rare even to Claude.

He silently listened to Talulah and Claude's persuasion, then firmly rejected them. To him, the path he had followed his entire life could not be shaken by a few grand words from others. Even if Claude's words sounded reasonable, he would never believe them until Claude formally proved them to him, nor would he entrust the guerrilla force's lives to such a person.

Claude could understand Patriot's thinking. If it were him, he would not entrust his life to someone based on a few lofty words either. Therefore, to gain the guerrilla force's support, he needed to prove himself to Patriot. He needed to prove that his path was correct.

Claude naturally would not blindly copy another model. Every region had different circumstances, let alone another world. Only after thoroughly investigating the conditions of this Empire and this world could he create a true plan. He had never believed that his shallow knowledge was omnipotent.

But before that, he needed to achieve his original objective—the second stage.

The second stage for a Transcendent was to greatly strengthen one's tendons and muscles. Combined with the bones strengthened in the first stage, they could unleash terrifying power.

This process was not completed in a single leap, but gradually. It did not strengthen all the muscles in the body at once. Instead, it strengthened each muscle and tendon individually, piece by piece and strand by strand.

Only when every tendon was as sturdy as alloy and every muscle fiber as tough as steel wire could the second stage of strengthening be considered complete.

This was not the final strengthening. In later stages, the bones and muscles would be strengthened further. Overall, the first and second stages laid the foundation for the stages to come.

After walking farther, he finally reached the end of the mine tunnel. A clearly visible Originium vein lay here. Claude no longer hesitated. He placed the food and water he would need for the next three months to one side. Though it did not look like much, Claude would not need much food after entering a cultivation state.

He quickly entered meditation. Claude once again saw the multicolored, mixed currents all around him. This energy was extremely similar to the energy during a Catastrophe, but compared to a Catastrophe, both its quality and quantity were far inferior. It was like comparing water vapor to water.

This thin energy made Claude hesitate. Once the process of breaking through to the second stage began, it could not be stopped. If it suddenly halted, the mixed energy would deal him severe damage. Though it could not compare to a Catastrophe, compared with the outside world where not a trace of energy could be felt, it was already the difference between heaven and earth.

With that thought, Claude no longer hesitated. Following the usual process, he guided the mixed energy into his body, then carefully separated it, retaining only a tiny pure portion and merging it into his tendons.

Once a tendon reached completion, he continued the same process with the next tendon.

As time passed, Claude's appearance underwent strange changes. His muscles constantly writhed, swelled, and contracted, but soon returned to their original shape. Only now, they gave off an impression of immense strength and toughness.

Her feet were shoulder-width apart. One arm raised the bow while the other pulled the string. She exhaled lightly, then exerted force with both hands to draw the bow. She pulled the arrow's fletching to the side of her face. The complex pulley mechanism meant that once she had drawn it to its limit, she no longer needed to expend extra strength to hold it, making it very effortless.

Her full attention focused on the distant prey. Her breath turned into white vapor in the cold air. Before the vapor could obscure her sight, her fingers had already released the string.

The black arrow left her fingertips like a meteor, drawing an arc across the sky. It struck the prey precisely in the head. The animal did not even struggle before collapsing directly into the snow. Blood seeped from its head, quickly staining the surrounding snow.

Ordinary hunters would not shoot directly at a prey's head. It was not only because the head was small and hard to hit, but because the skull was also very hard. Their attack might end up achieving nothing. And if a shot failed, the prey would immediately flee, meaning they might gain nothing for the entire day. After all, prey had always been scarce on this snowfield.

But Centaurea had no such concern. Since graduating, she had invested most of her funds into this weapon. Its precise and complex mechanisms gave her confidence that its arrows could easily pierce the skull of any beast, even the front of some lower-quality heavy armor.

Centaurea quickly reached the prey. Seeing the black arrow in its head completely undamaged, she quietly sighed in relief. Her specially made arrows were extremely difficult to replenish here. Shooting prey in the head was also meant to prevent it from struggling wildly and breaking the arrows.

The Infected guerrilla member following behind her stepped forward, swiftly processed the prey, and carried it back.

"This is the tenth one today, right? It should be enough."

Centaurea put away her bow and prepared to return. Claude had not taken her with him on this outing. Instead, he had left her in the Infected camp to help Talulah and Yelena. Of course, her pay continued as usual.

Thinking of Claude, Centaurea could not help recalling what had happened that day.

That day, she and Claude had gone hunting together. He had suddenly proposed a hunting competition on a whim.

This sort of contest should have been effortless for her. She could easily win. She absolutely did not believe Claude could be better than her at archery. She had even thought of how she would mock him after he lost.

But when Claude did not take out a bow and arrow, she felt a faint sense of foreboding. Claude gave her a smug smile, then charged straight ahead.

Such a huge commotion naturally startled their prey. The animals searching for sparse dead grass beneath the snow were immediately frightened and scattered in every direction. This easily disrupted Centaurea's strategy of using her superb archery to pick off prey one by one from afar.

Those beasts ran fast, but Claude ran even faster. He easily caught up to them and used the lance in his hand to stab them down one after another. Centaurea tried to salvage the situation, but her speed was clearly no match for Claude's. Thus, by the end of the day, she had naturally lost the contest. The prey they had hunted that day was enough to supply the Infected camp for three months.

Thinking of this, Centaurea felt slightly irritated, but also worried and uneasy.

"Where exactly did Claude go? Why has there been no news for so long? Could he be in danger?"

Claude was naturally not in danger, but his current condition was not particularly good either. The dust in the mine tunnel had nearly buried him.

A black figure in the mine tunnel moved slightly, and black material began to fall from his body in showers. This was not, of course, as some online novels claimed, impurities being expelled from the body. It was simply mine dust mixed with the sweat on his body.

After remaining motionless in one place for three months, even with his powerful physical condition, his legs were somewhat weak when he stood. Looking at the thick grime covering his body, he thought, Good thing I prepared in advance and properly sealed my armor and clothes in bags. I'm only wearing a pair of close-fitting shorts.

He rose, picked up his clothes and belongings, and headed toward the mine entrance.

"Need to wash up properly. I'm filthy."

Once outside, he was met by the ever-piercing cold wind. He stepped barefoot into the snow, yet did not feel very cold. Reaching a frozen stream, he smashed through the ice and jumped in. In such extreme cold, an ordinary person falling into icy water like this would quickly suffer hypothermia without timely rescue. But to the current Claude, the freezing water felt only slightly cold and was no trouble at all.

After quickly scrubbing himself clean and washing his hair, Claude hurriedly climbed ashore. Then he suddenly stopped. His entire body turned red as his temperature rapidly rose. He was using this method to dry the water on his body. Otherwise, within minutes, his wet hair would freeze, which would become another troublesome matter.

His hair had grown quite long and could not simply be combed back. After looking around and finding nothing suitable, he took out a dagger and cut a strip of cloth from the hem of his battle robe. He used it to tie his hair into a ponytail.