The extra Is too Strong – Chapter 35

Chapter 35: The Extra is Too Strong

Berrin’s explanation was more concise than what Mordred already knew, and he didn’t mention the name ‘Blood of Silver.’

However, from Mordred’s perspective, it was enough to confirm that the information he had was not incorrect.

“So that’s it. The crux of the matter is that Harden, that old trash, wants to cling to youth and hence desires to devour me?” Mordred deduced.

“How dare you! Shut your filthy mouth, brat!” Berrin responded with indignation.

“It seems you’re quite unfamiliar with the definition of filth. You appear smart, but is your skull empty?” Mordred teased.

“Despite your appearance, you sure have a sharp tongue. I’ll make sure to cut it out before taking you to the Grand Duke.”

Berrin spoke chillingly, drawing his sword.

Whooosh!

His sword was enshrouded in a white light that surged like a blade’s edge.

Unlike Impulse, it was a highly condensed and stable power.

The symbol of a Master Martial Artist, the Aura Blade, was now unleashed.

“Go ahead, resist all you want. No matter how talented a Newblood you are, you’ll end up with your tongue cut and limbs bound, being dragged away!” Berrin declared confidently.

His confidence was not mere bravado.

The Aura Blade wielded by a Master Martial Artist could even slice through the descendants of Bernice, who had reached the realm of opening their Newblood.

Plus, Berrin was not alone, was he?

“He’s fifteen years old, you said?” one of the fighters dispatched from the ‘Blood of Silver’ to collaborate with the Grand Duke muttered in disbelief.

“Yes, that’s him.”

“I can hardly believe it. A boy not even a year into his Newblood awakening, and he wields such magical power…”

The fighters were puzzled, wondering whether these were individuals who had received a portion of the Newblood’s power, or whether they were the type inscribed with magic.

Mordred quickly assessed the threat level of the insurgents as he glanced at them.

The ‘Blood of Silver’ was an organization of madmen wishing to return the world to the Age of Myths.

Only the successors of Newblood could become high-ranking officials in this group.

The combatants below the rank of intermediary officials received the forbidden secret technique of ‘Blessing,’ which allowed them to transcend their limits.

Their combat style was akin to that of demons.

With strong physical abilities and magical capabilities as well.

However, without being a mage, their magical abilities were limited, rendering them confined to using their limited powers with significant force.

‘Well, it seems I have no choice but to engage in battle.’

Mordred readied himself for combat without much hesitation.

Whoooooooo!

Facing multiple enemies led by a Master Martial Artist meant that conserving strength was an arrogant mistake.

Mordred, aware of this, immediately opened his Newblood.

“Attack!”

The enemies took advantage of the moment Mordred opened his Newblood to transform and launched their offensive.

Warriors in black clothes unleashed flashes of light and flames aiming for Mordred.

Pop, pop, pop, pop, boom!

However, all of their attacks were repelled, unable to penetrate the silver flashes enveloping Mordred.

“Fast.”

A figured assumed to be an officer, with silver blood trickling from an injury and a mask covering his face, uttered like a groan.

The duration of Mordred’s transformation into his Newblood opened state was truly fleeting!

As light enclosed his body and a flash was seen, his hair had already turned silver, his eyes a transparent silver gray.

The transformation was so swift that there was no opportunity for an attack.

“Is it really true that he’s only recently opened his Newblood?”

The officer was astounded.

To reach such a stage of Newblood awakening at such a young age was one thing, but the speed of transformation was even more astonishing—as if he had been mastering it for years.

“It seems I will have to seal your arms and legs too after cutting them off.”

Berrin walked forward with a cold gleam in his eye.

His Aura Blade stretched out two meters long, assailing Mordred.

Whooosh! Whoooooooo!

The air cried out in pain.

In the middle of the forest, Berrin didn’t hesitate to swing his sword, extending over two meters in length.

The spatial constraint meant nothing before the Aura Blade.

C-rumble…

Trees sliced as smoothly as pudding toppled over along their cleanly cut surfaces.

Even if this place had been a crowded city or inside a building, Berrin would have been relentless.

Against this attack, evasion was the only answer.

Even if a body in Newblood opened state was harder than steel, they couldn’t block the Aura Blade without being cut.

And if he tried to use Impulse, it would be shredded like a piece of paper, so the only option for Mordred was to dodge…

Boom!

…or so it should have been.

“What?!”

Berrin was aghast.

Mordred had blocked his Aura Blade with his arm.

‘How could this be possible?’

It was an unthinkable situation.

Even so, Berrin’s thoroughly honed swordsmanship was ready to counter Mordred’s retaliation.

Kaboom!

But the response was a split second late, and Mordred exploited the opening with an unforgiving punch.

“Ugh…!”

Berrin spit blood as he was thrown and landed with a thud.

“Aura Gauntlet!”

An officer of the Blood of Silver shouted in alarm.

The light enveloping Mordred’s hands.

It was not the Impulse Gauntlet that Mordred had been fond of using until recently.

It was an Aura Gauntlet, born of equally stabilized power, just like Berrin’s Aura Blade!

“A Master Martial Artist? Impossible!”

In the presence of the shocked Blood of Silver officer, Mordred began to display the explosive growth he had achieved over the past 20 days.

* * *

Master Martial Artists are esteemed commodities.

It’s difficult to refine Martial Arts to such a degree, to reach a level where one can manipulate Aura.

With dedicated training in Martial Arts, most can enhance their senses and physical strength to a degree.

But from Impulse onwards lies a formidable barrier.

To cross this barrier and be deemed a true Martial Artist isn’t an exaggerated measure of talent.

Those who master Impulse face several subsequent stages.

First, handling Sword Impulse or Body Impulse in the initial stage.

Next, managing a more concentrated Impulse, like the Impulse Gauntlet, in the second stage.

Then, remotely reinforcing material and applying Impulse in the third stage.

And finally, compressing and accelerating raging Impulse to gain explosive power in the fourth stage.

Most Martial Artists plateau at the second stage of Impulse.

Beyond the third stage, sheer repetitive practice isn’t enough; it demands underlying intuition to reach further.

At this point, those who surpass the third and reach the fourth stage encounter an even greater barrier: Aura.

Unlike the entry to Impulse, Aura presents a despairingly immense barrier.

It is exceedingly difficult to overcome, and thus, despite a lifetime of practice, the vast majority of Martial Artists never reach the level of mastery.

Such is the transcendent nature of Aura.

And yet…

“House Vernas, what on Earth have you done…?”

The officer of the Blood of Silver couldn’t hide his shock.

According to the intelligence they received, Mordred was only fifteen.

A bastard raised outside, with no prior training in Martial Arts till he entered the Grand Duke’s city.

That he would turn into a Master Martial Artist after less than four months of training in the city?

‘Impossible! It simply cannot be!’

Something had to be wrong with the intel.

The figure before them couldn’t possibly be a mere teenager who had never trained in Martial Arts until a few months ago!

Rejecting reality, the enemies faced Mordred as he began to move.

* * *

It was just five days ago that Mordred had gained his Aura.

Over the past 20 days, Ilden acted precisely as Mordred predicted.

Not content with mere sparring, Ilden began imparting various teachings.

Of course, Mordred didn’t refuse.

Absorbing the teachings like a sponge, his growth was terrifyingly rapid.

Amidst this, Mordred knew the time had come for a decisive move.

‘I can’t continue like this.’

His growth had been astonishing.

He had endured numerous beatings and bloodshed in fights against Ilden – a harsh reminder that his rapid advancement hadn’t come easily.

Yet, Mordred was aware something lacked.

‘If the Duke hadn’t joined with them yet, this might suffice. But if he has, he will send an even more formidable force to capture me.’

Mordred’s growth was formidable, his power wondrous relative to others.

But in absolute terms, it fell short.

What if Master Martial Artists were sent with forces to apprehend him?

If they came with high-level mages in tow?

‘Then I would have no escape.’

The sole path to avoid such a predicament was clear.

‘I need power enough to defeat whatever force he sends, regardless of how overpowering it might seem!’

Fortunately, Mordred had access to a means that could turn such an improbable task into reality.

The Tears of the Martial God.

Would this be a deadly poison leading to his demise or a divine elixir granting him unprecedented power?

Mordred hesitated not before such extreme possibilities.

* * *

‘Good.’

Mordred grinned, feeling the surging power.

Eventually, the Tears of the Martial God became his catalyst for explosive empowerment.

Upon consuming the Tears, the contained willpower surged, attempting to overwhelm Mordred.

In response, Mordred’s mind and body unlocked his latent potential to face this assault.

It was a fight of consumption or being consumed.

A treacherous battle akin to walking on the edge of a knife, but ultimately, Mordred emerged victorious.

Provoked by the Tears of the Martial God, Mordred’s latent potential exploded, swallowing the Tears whole.

When he opened his eyes, he realized he had mastered the Aura.

‘Erna, I will never forget this debt of gratitude.’

Had Erna not given him the Tears of the Martial God, Mordred might well have met his demise here.

Thankful for this knowledge, Mordred silently expressed his deep gratitude to Erna.

“You monstrous fiend!”

Berrin mumbled incredulously as he struggled to his feet.

Throughout his life as a warrior of Vernas, he had seen many talents.

Among them were a few deemed geniuses.

Yet, none were comparable to Mordred.

‘Perhaps this being is even more than the Grand Duke…’

Berrin’s expression hardened as his body began to emanate a magical power that dwarfed anything prior.

“At any cost, I will end you here…!”

“What’s this? Burning one’s life for power? Seeing someone actually do this is rather intriguing,” Mordred said coldly.

Indeed, Berrin was incinerating his own life force.

Only as a Master Martial Artist, who operated at a higher plane of existence, could he manipulate his body and mind in such a way.

“I underestimated what a monster you are. I will atone with my life.”

Mordred becoming an enemy of the Duke was now a certainty.

Irreversible by any means.

‘This monster must not be allowed time to grow.’

Thus, Berrin had to cut off his lifeline here and now.

Should Mordred survive, he would certainly be poised to threaten the Duke’s very existence in the future!

“…”

Mordred didn’t question why Berrin went to such lengths.

Everyone has a story.

Berrin had his own, one that incited such loyalty to plunge into the fires of hell for the Grand Duke.

But to Mordred, past tales weren’t paramount.

What mattered was the position Berrin had taken before him and what he now intended to do.

Only that was of essence.

“Such desire is futile, Harden’s hound.”

Aura enveloped Mordred in its entirety, a sign of the power he wielded.



One response to “The extra Is too Strong – Chapter 35”

  1. duke is one of the villain ! then who are the others?

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