Lance Charge on the Arkship, but No Mount

Kowal, broad and powerfully built, held a portable heavy-duty machine in his hands. Like loading a bullet, he inserted a steel spike fitted with complex mechanisms into it. With his other hand, he pulled over the alloy ring at the end of the cable, aimed the machine at it, and fiercely pulled the trigger.

With a loud bang, the complex alloy spike drove firmly into the ground. Its tip opened beneath the surface, locking the entire cable securely in place.

Claude released his grip, picked up another cable, and repeated the process.

Before long, more than a dozen steel cables had secured the little bar tightly in place, like a spider's nest. With the work done, Kowal and the others began packing up, preparing to take shelter inside. Claude was about to head in as well, but after taking two steps, a familiar sensation suddenly stopped him in his tracks. It was so familiar that it felt as though he had experienced it for decades.

After a moment's thought, he understood what it was—an environment rich in aether, something he knew all too well. Calling it aether outright would have been too hasty, however. This energy was far too chaotic and mixed. It was utterly different from mild, tranquil aether, filled with a destructive urge. Yet this was the first time in this world that he had sensed something resembling aether.

He looked up at the sky. The storm clouds had formed an enormous vortex, so vast that it engulfed the city beneath it. It was like a gaping maw in the abyss, ready to swallow everything whole. That immense, chaotic energy was within the vortex, pouring down from the heavens to the ground.

"Claude, what are you standing around for? Get inside, now!! The Catastrophe is almost here!" Kowal roared, his powerful arm gripping the wind-whipped door firmly.

Claude came back to himself. Though he was immensely curious about this aether-like energy, he knew this was not the time to investigate it. He was not arrogant enough to underestimate a Catastrophe. He hurried forward and rushed into the bar. The instant he got inside, Kowal slammed the door shut.

Even inside the bar, they could hear the cacophony outside. Rainwater dripped from everyone's raincoats, soaking the floor.

"All right, the work's done. Come have a drink and warm yourselves up," old Martin called out.

Claude walked over as well, took a glass of beer as usual, and drained it in two gulps. After greeting the others, he turned and headed for the basement. He had to figure out what this aether-like energy was and whether it could help him.

After locking the basement door, Claude made sure nothing about him would disturb anyone else. He sat down on the bed and assumed the meditation posture he was accustomed to. Guiding his breathing with practiced ease, he entered the ideal state in an instant. His consciousness seemed to leave his body, observing himself from outside. From this perspective, he could see things that normally remained invisible—chaotic colors winding around his body.

Claude had never seen energy this disorderly before. Aether was pale white and possessed no traits of its own; only after being transformed by the human body could it become other elements. This chaotic energy, however, conveyed frenzied messages to Claude. Yes, frenzy. It contained countless incomprehensible murmurs, impossible to decipher or understand. Like the sound of wind or rain in nature, they held no meaning, yet they carried mad emotions.

Claude frowned deeply. He had finally encountered something similar to aether in this world, but it appeared extremely dangerous. He could not be sure what consequences using it for cultivation would bring. Yet he could not simply abandon this opportunity either. In twenty years in this world, this was the only time he had encountered such a phenomenon. His current strength was still insufficient to completely protect the people and things important to him on this dangerous land. Besides, one could never have too much power. People only regretted lacking strength when danger came.

Claude fixed his gaze on the chaotic energy around him and used his mind to guide it into his body. He was extremely cautious, drawing in only a tiny portion. As the threads of energy entered him from outside, he attempted to analyze and separate them, to see whether he could make them less chaotic, filter out some impurities, and render them gentler. His consciousness entered the energy, dispersing it and beginning to analyze its internal composition. It was no easy task, and the resistance was immense. Once his mind entered the energy, it was affected as well, with all kinds of negative emotions constantly eroding Claude.

Claude remained unmoved. Such a tiny amount of negative emotion was far too laughable to shake his will.

He continuously separated the disordered, lawless portions and expelled them from his body. The remaining mass of energy grew smaller and smaller until only one-fifth of the original amount remained. Looking at the energy, now far gentler than before, Claude let out a slight sigh of relief. Its purity had reached his standard. It could be merged into his body for cultivation.

He guided the energy slowly into his bones. Having done this countless times before, Claude easily completed the first step of cultivation.

Generally speaking, the first step for an ordinary person to become a transcendent was to strengthen their bones. This was the most reliable strategy. As the bones grew stronger, a transcendent's ability to withstand impacts would increase significantly. Only after reaching this stage would the subsequent steps become safer. Of course, there were other paths, but those methods came with considerable hidden risks. For example, if a transcendent strengthened their muscles first, once those muscles reached a certain level, their fragile bones would be unable to support the body and could be easily broken by their own muscles.

Strengthening the bones also greatly improved a transcendent's blood production, allowing them to recover faster from injuries and improving their constitution to some degree.

Claude's method came from the Imperial military. Few armies pursued rapid mass production, because transcendent soldiers created through haste were often far less capable in actual combat. Military methods therefore emphasized building foundations and were also easier to master.

Claude's cultivation efficiency could not compare to that of his previous life, but the good news was that the energy available to him was inexhaustible. Like a great whale drawing in water, endless chaotic energy was processed within his body and integrated into his bones. The cells in his bones seemed to cheer and revel, bursting with incomparable vitality as they reinforced his skeleton again and again, making it tougher, stronger, and more resistant to impact.

The physical talent granted by this world astonished even Claude. The energy merged into him with such natural ease, without the slightest sense of obstruction. Watching himself grow stronger bit by bit was addictive. Claude did not notice the passage of time.

A day later, Claude finally came back to his senses. Of course, that also had something to do with the dissipation of the energy. He jumped down from the bed and walked to the mirror. Seeing that he had grown taller again, an involuntary smile appeared on his lips. He had successfully reached the first stage of the transcendent path, strengthening his bones to the point where they could accept muscular enhancement. His bones were now incomparably resilient and could withstand several times the force they had before.

He twisted his body, and a series of crackling sounds came from all over him as his bones rubbed together. His newly strengthened bones seemed to be cheering with joy.

He turned around, opened the door, and went upstairs. The bar looked much the same, but everyone else had already left. Only old Martin remained.

"Claude, you must be hungry. You haven't eaten in a whole day."

Only when he heard Martin did Claude belatedly feel the hunger in his stomach. This hunger was overwhelmingly intense, as if every cell in his body was demanding more nourishment. Yet he did not feel weak. Like a starving tiger, hunger did not enfeeble him—it only made him fiercer.

Without another word, he sat down. "Martin, hurry and bring me whatever food can be made right now."

Martin looked at Claude in surprise. Claude's tone had never been so urgent. Normally, he always spoke at an unhurried pace. No matter what happened, he always seemed calm and composed.

Martin turned and brought out a large platter of toasted bread from the kitchen. There was also some leftover meat stew from yesterday warming on the stove, which had originally been meant for Martin's own breakfast. Claude grabbed a piece of bread, dipped it in the stew, and began devouring it. Warm food flowed down from his mouth and filled his empty stomach.

He had always treated food with respect. Whether it tasted good or bad, he would never refuse it. Naturally, if he had the choice, he still preferred more delicious food. He ate more than a dozen pieces of bread and a large bowl of meat stew in one go before the hunger that was nearly destroying his reason slowly subsided.

Martin stared at Claude in amazement. "Even a burly Vouivre couldn't eat that much. Why are you suddenly so hungry?"

Claude thought for a moment, then said, "It has something to do with my Originium Arts."

Understanding dawned on Martin's face. He nodded and did not ask further questions.

Originium Arts in this world came in every conceivable variety. No one had ever managed to catalog them all. That made this excuse almost universally useful.

Leaving the bar, Claude looked over the battered streets. After the Catastrophe had passed, the entire street had been turned upside down. Trash cans lay overturned, their contents blown all over the road. Many plants and trees from the green belts had been uprooted, and some had even been thrown onto low residential buildings. The standing water on the ground had drained away, and the sun had reappeared overhead. It shone upon the streets as water vapor rose, creating a hazy scene.

The weather was not pleasant, since the vapor evaporated by the blazing sun made the air unbearably muggy. But compared to a Catastrophe, it was still tolerable.

Miss Centaurea had not come to work on time today. The Catastrophe had only just passed, and Claude was somewhat worried that something might have happened to her. He decided to visit the address she had given him.

At a shopping center that had just opened, he picked out some sweets. In his impression, girls seemed to like such things. Of course, he liked them too.

Carrying the gift, he moved faster than usual and soon arrived at his destination. He knocked on the door of room 302 in a small apartment building, but there was no response. Claude frowned. He had called her earlier, but she had not answered. Now she was not at home either. Could something really have happened?

He knocked on the neighboring door. Before long, an exhausted office worker opened it and looked at him. "Sir Knight, what can I do for you?"

"Hello, sir. I'd like to ask about your neighbor in room 302—the young lady with white hair. Do you know where she went?"

The man looked at him in great surprise. "A young lady? Sir, what are you talking about? A man lives next door to me, and he isn't young either."

"...Is that so? Perhaps I made a mistake. Sorry for bothering you."

As he watched the man close the door, a thoughtful look flashed through Claude's eyes.

"I see. I really have become dull."

He unwrapped the gift in his hand, took out a piece of dessert, and put it into his mouth. He savored the gentle sweetness spreading across his tongue until it gradually faded away.

A New Beginning: The Show Begins

"Citizens of the Great Knight Territory, today is the most important day of all, because the Knights Major tournament is about to reach its final conclusion! The only two remaining contestants will face each other and decide who claims the championship!!!!"

"This is a grand event for the Great Knight Territory and for all of Kazimierz! After today, Kazimierz will gain another champion knight!! A new knight with a single-word title!!"

"There are already more than a hundred thousand spectators inside the venue!! And people are still pouring in from everywhere! Outside the arena is already a sea of people!! A sea of celebration!!!"

"Our audience has never been this massive! What has drawn them here? Is it the mysterious and powerful Claude Ait, or the radiant and glorious Margaret Nearl??!!!!"

"The spectators can barely contain themselves! They're waiting for the protagonists to appear!! My God, I can hardly hear my own voice anymore! What incredible passion!!!"

The sky was incomparably clear, and brilliant sunlight poured over the city, making the arena's white outer walls gleam dazzlingly.

Claude was still seated in the waiting area. He lay sideways across the sofa, looking extremely relaxed. His fingers tapped against his vambrace as though he were lost in thought. Normally, Claude, as the commander of a legion, rarely showed such a lazy demeanor. But he was in an excellent mood now and felt thoroughly at ease.

Claude looked completely unguarded, but those who had known their legion commander in his previous life understood that this was how he looked when his heart was filled with fighting spirit. He was relaxing his body.

His fingers tapped faster and faster. It should be soon...

"The spectators' enthusiasm can no longer be restrained! All right, the time has come! Contestants, enter the arena!!!"

Claude rose in one motion, put on his helmet, fastened his longsword, and picked up his spear. Then he walked toward the light outside.

The instant he stepped out of the passageway, the cheers seemed to multiply tenfold. The entire world was filled with roaring applause, and the sound shook the surrounding walls. Tens of thousands of eyes focused on Claude at once. If it had been anyone else, such concentrated attention might have made it difficult even to walk. But Claude calmly headed toward his designated position.

The tall knight in black entered the arena with a spear in hand, composed and unhurried. He carried an air of inevitability, as if he had been born to be watched, surrounded, praised, and celebrated by tens or hundreds of thousands of people.

That heroic bearing stirred the crowd even more, raising wave after wave of deafening cheers.

Cheers no less thunderous than those on his side gradually rose from afar. A golden-haired figure walked toward him, slowly revealing a graceful form and a resolute, beautiful face. Those bright golden eyes looked at him with a smile.

Claude's sword danced through the air like a butterfly before coming to rest against his left shoulder. Then he bowed slightly—this was a knight's courtesy before a duel. Margaret smiled and returned the gesture.

A harsh bell suddenly rang from the arena's four massive screens. The golden and black figures charged at each other at the same time.

No one could clearly see what was happening in the clash. Golden radiance flooded the entire field of vision, while lightning constantly burst forth within it. All they could hear was the crisp ring of weapons colliding. Their figures intertwined and tangled, leaving afterimages that made them impossible to distinguish.

Their battle surpassed ordinary imagination. Even their movements could not be seen clearly, yet the shockwaves of their clashes tore apart the ground and blasted away the turf. Their destructive power far exceeded all expectations.

"My God, what terrifying strength! Neither knight showed such a level in their previous matches!! Had they both been holding back all this time?!!!!"

Light and lightning surged freely across the arena, shattering the earth and ripping the grounds apart. No staff member dared approach the area at this moment. No one could interfere in their fight; it would not end until one side was defeated.

The confrontation was fiercely even and incredibly intense. It continued for more than ten minutes without any sign of stopping. Not a single spectator grew bored. The clear chime of colliding weapons rang in their ears, setting their blood boiling and holding their eyes captive.

Finally, with a violent explosion, the two figures separated.

Neither showed any obvious wounds. No blood flowed, and neither suit of armor was damaged.

Claude stretched out his hand and drove his spear heavily into the ground. He drew his sword and saluted his opponent once more.

"Go, knight. Let them see your ideals. Let them see the light. Go and pierce the darkness!"

Having said that, Claude raised a hand to signal the referee.

"This is unbelievable! Without a clear victor having been determined, Knight Claude has actually chosen to concede voluntarily!!!!"

The announcer's voice spread throughout the entire arena, followed by a wave of earth-shaking uproar.

Without explaining anything further, Claude picked up his spear, turned around, and left the arena. He had already obtained what he wanted, and he had more important matters to attend to next.

Margaret watched Claude's retreating back, her thoughts in turmoil. Of course, she knew who the true victor was, but now she had no choice but to borrow his honor.

"I've received far too much help..."

Centaurea knew the situation was extremely dire. They had been ordered to assassinate the champion knight who was to formally complete her knighting ceremony today. She knew what that meant. Given the Commercial Union's usual methods, even if they succeeded, they would be made scapegoats—discarded pieces used to bear the wrath of all Kazimierz.

I have to escape immediately! she told herself. Even though she knew what the right choice was, she could not control her own fate. She was merely a newly recruited pawn of the Armorless Union, with no power to resist.

They were currently on the route the knight would have to take for her investiture. Centaurea's mind was in chaos. She knew this trip led only to death, but if she acted rashly, what the supervising squad behind them would do was self-evident.

"Stop here."

A cold voice came from ahead.

A knight in black stood before them, blocking the entire alley. A transparent raincoat covered his body.

"One more step, and you enter the land of the dead," he declared.

The Armorless Union squad, thirty strong, stopped in their tracks. They were all elite assassins, yet they involuntarily halted. An aura of extreme danger rose before them, as if the passage ahead were not an alley but the gaping maw of some colossal beast.

Claude told them not to move, but he himself began walking forward. One step, then another. Each footfall seemed to land directly upon the hearts of the Armorless Union assassins.

The killers kept retreating, leaving a helpless white-haired girl standing where she was.

Claude stopped before Centaurea and lowered his gaze to the girl, who seemed petite in comparison to him.

"My servant, where are you going?"

Centaurea's heart grew even more frantic.

"If you have nowhere to go, then return. Go back to where you work and continue working for me." His voice suddenly softened, and Centaurea stared up at him in stunned disbelief.

The meaning in his words filled her with such joy that her entire body trembled.

Claude said nothing more. He passed her and continued advancing on the Armorless Union. Within two breaths, the white figure behind him sped away. The direction she fled in brought an involuntary smile to Claude's lips.

The smile vanished in an instant when he saw a blue figure pursuing her. A violent gust suddenly swept through the alley, and a javelin shot toward the blue figure with a piercing howl, wrapped in dense arcs of lightning.

Overcome by a scalp-prickling chill, the other man abruptly stopped. The javelin brushed past his eyes and struck the ground with tremendous force, tearing up a huge mass of reinforced concrete. The lightning coiling around it made every hair on his body stand on end.

"I told you. Stop here."

Lazurite's face twisted with vicious hostility. "Kill him."

The assassins rushed forward together. Claude sighed, and sword light suddenly burst from his scabbard. In the blink of an eye, the foremost killers were severed into several pieces. Like a tide crashing against a dam, they were shattered in an instant.

Crimson blood splashed across the walls, washing away the dust. Severed limbs flew into the air before swiftly falling back to the ground. Lives vanished as quickly as snowflakes in summer.

Seeing their comrades being slaughtered at an astonishing speed, the assassins behind raised their powerful crossbows at Claude. Before they could pull their triggers, arrows suddenly rained down from above, killing them one after another. On the elevated platform of a nearby building, an old knight with braided hair held a bow in one hand and several arrows in the other, firing them at incredible speed.

A roar came from behind. A towering white Ursus wielding a massive battle axe charged into the assassins' formation. With one sweep of the axe blade, he severed a head.

Under the combined assault of the three men, the assassins suffered devastating losses. Before long, they scattered and fled. Lazurite was the first to run. Seeing that the situation had turned bad, he escaped at extreme speed.

Blood ran freely through the alley, and corpses lay everywhere. Claude removed the raincoat spattered with blood, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Beneath it, he was as neat and clean as before.

He looked at the two companions who had come to his side. "Let's go. We'll leave first. Someone will come clean this up."

The Radiant Knight's declaration during her investiture caused an enormous uproar throughout Kazimierz. This brilliant knight was like a golden sword piercing through a layer of hypocrisy that everyone knew existed but could not point out. The Commercial Union manipulated the media and attempted to crush the Radiant Knight beneath overwhelming public opinion. But the Kazimierz General Chamber of Commerce opposed them head-on.

The Great Knight Territory seemed to have split into two sides, locked in constant conflict. Yet without question, the Commercial Union's influence had suffered a severe blow, and they were retreating again and again. The situation looked excellent, as though the Commercial Union were about to disappear from Kazimierz entirely.

Claude knew this was only temporary. Capital had already seeped into this nation's blood; it could not be removed. To force it out would be like digging bones out of a living body.

Capital was an indispensable part of this country. Though Claude saw it as rotten and backward, compared to the other powers on this land, it was already a more advanced social structure. No matter how filthy capitalism was, it remained more progressive than a slave-based class system.

Of course, capital had to be restrained. It absolutely could not be allowed to grow without limits. Until a new path more suitable for this country could truly be found, it still had a reason to exist.

Others would take care of that now, and it no longer had much to do with Claude. He had his own plans. First, he needed to leave this country.

Ever since he had successfully obtained energy during the previous Catastrophe and reached the first stage, Claude had been considering how to grow stronger. He now had a suspicion that the energy might be related to Originium. To confirm it, he planned to visit Ursus, where Originium resources were abundant. He had heard that countless Originium mines were spread across northern Ursus. Perhaps he would gain something new there.

Besides, it was no longer particularly safe for him to remain in the Great Knight Territory. He had killed so many members of the Armorless Union and thwarted their scheme. The Commercial Union had long regarded him as a thorn in their side. Though Claude did not fear them, no one enjoyed being targeted every day.

Moreover, his own forces were still very weak. Though he had yet to decide what he wished to do in the future, there was never anything wrong with accumulating sufficient strength and preparing for what lay ahead.