Return of The Martial King – Chapter 272

Chapter 272

Attila dragged his claws across his chest, leaving a long gash. At the same time, he let out a beast-like roar.  

“Krraaaahhh!”  

His entire body swelled at a terrifying speed. His bones lengthened, and his muscles expanded to the point of bursting. His eyes turned blood-red, radiating a crimson glow. A dark shadow engulfed Kamerun and Werl’s entire bodies. Shock flickered in their eyes.  

Attila, who had been around two meters tall, had transformed in an instant into a towering giant nearly four meters high, standing before them.  

“W-what the hell?”  

As Werl cried out, Kamerun shouted urgently.  

“Damn it! That’s a troll’s berserk state!”  

The racial ability of trolls, their last resort when death was imminent. By overdriving their regenerative power, they exponentially increased all their abilities. Attila was attempting berserk transformation.  

A troll in berserk mode became a frenzied warrior, incapable of distinguishing friend from foe, rampaging until death. Kamerun felt a chill of fear. They were already struggling; how could they possibly fight against an enemy that had just become several times stronger?  

As Kamerun and Werl braced themselves for death, focusing all their attention on Attila  

“Graaaahh!”  

With a monstrous cry, Attila suddenly turned his back on them and ran in the opposite direction.  

Kamerun was momentarily dumbfounded. He had never heard of a berserk troll turning its back on an enemy.  

“…Huh?”  

Contrary to common sense, Attila had not lost his reason. Despite going berserk, he still maintained his clarity of mind.  

A troll’s berserk transformation was supposed to be uncontrollable. Once activated, it was an irreversible double-edged sword, granting several times their normal power while burning away both their intelligence and life force. There was no way for a troll to return to normal on their own. Unless subdued by an external force, they would rampage until they exhausted all their vitality and died.  

Humans trembled in fear at the sight of berserk trolls, but in truth, trolls themselves feared this state as well. What was the point of gaining immense power if it only led to death? To trolls, berserk transformation was nothing less than a synonym for suicide.

However, Attila was shielding his mind even in his berserk state through the power of a powerful shamanic spell. Among countless Gurus, only he had mastered the ultimate secret art of troll shamanism, Clarity Berserk Transformation.  

“Graaaahh!”  

With Clarity Berserk Transformation activated, Attila roared and charged forward. His target was not Kamerun or Werl, but rather Dekril and Marrad, who were aiming to cut down the two Aura Users, Russ and Tassid.  

Realizing this too late, Werl hurled himself forward.  

“Damn it!”  

Closing the distance in an instant, Werl unleashed Blade Aura. Attila’s massive back was full of openings. Having grown to nearly four meters, he was now an easier target than ever. A piercing thrust, swift as a gale, tore into Attila’s back muscles.  

Thwack!  

Blood splattered, but Attila didn’t even flinch. His thick muscles absorbed the blow, preventing the Blade Aura from reaching any vital points. He hadn’t recklessly attempted berserk transformation, turning his back on enemies required this level of durability.  

Kamerun moved to follow, but at that moment, Repenhardt intercepted him. Even if Attila had gone berserk, he couldn’t be left to face four Aura Users alone. Someone on this side had to keep at least one opponent occupied.  

“Chain Strike Blast!”  

Even while fighting against Lukawan and Geblik, Repenhardt still managed to unleash dozens of Aura Blasts. Deflecting each one, Kamerun hesitated for a moment.  

By now, Attila had already blocked Dekril and Marrad, engaging them in a fierce battle. Werl had also joined the fight.  

‘Even though he’s the Ivory Tusk who has become several times stronger in his berserk state, facing three Aura Users won’t be easy.’  

After deliberating, Kamerun turned his blade toward Repenhardt. In this situation, the best course of action was to take down the Fist King quickly and then assist the others.  

Just as Repenhardt intended, Kamerun pivoted and sent a Blade Aura slashing toward him.  

*         *         *  

A massive monster suddenly loomed before them, blocking their path. With his broad back facing them, he bellowed in a voice like rolling thunder.  

“Get out of here, now!”  

Russ and Tassid blinked in confusion. What was this monster? Tassid muttered uncertainly.  

“Could it be… Lord Attila?”

There was no response. Attila had already begun his battle against Dekril, Marrad, and the slightly delayed Werl.  

Fists clashed, and a violent storm of force erupted. Only then did Russ and Tassid, now certain that their savior was indeed Attila, collapse onto the ground.  

“Haaah…”  

“We’re… alive…”  

Were they too exhausted? The moment their tension eased, the strength in their legs completely gave out. Though they had been told to flee, they no longer had the strength to do so.  

At that moment, someone grabbed them by the nape and lifted them back up. When Russ saw their rescuer’s face, relief washed over him.  

“Ah, Miss Siris…”  

“We need to move.”  

With a hardened expression, Siris picked both of them up and leaped in the opposite direction. No matter how much Iniya berated her, carrying one or two people was nothing to her.  

Bounding dozens of meters away, Siris carried them out of the battlefield and finally set them down.  

“Thanks, Siris,” Tassid said in gratitude.  

Siris, her expression still cold, carefully examined their conditions. She poured Healing Potion onto their wounds and summoned a Water Spirit to circulate their blood, enhancing their natural healing abilities. Though it wasn’t as effective as divine magic, it was enough for emergency treatment.  

As she tended to Tassid’s wounds, Russ looked at her face in confusion.  

“Miss Siris?”  

“What?”  

“It’s just… you don’t look too good…”  

Something about her expression seemed dark. Well, of course, with the enemy invading and their comrades fighting for their lives, there was no reason for her to look cheerful. But it felt different from that, more like she was disheartened.  

Siris steadied her voice and answered flatly.  

“It’s nothing.”  

After being driven away by Iniya, Siris had headed straight for the White King’s Castle. No matter how miserable she felt, she still had a duty to fulfill. At the very least, she intended to assist with the civilians’ evacuation.  

But when she arrived, the White King’s Castle was already empty.  

Azrael was an incredibly capable commander. Even in the midst of such a catastrophe, he had swiftly completed the evacuation. With nothing left to do there, she had decided to head toward Russ and Tassid instead.

After using three bottles of Healing Potion, their wounds had closed to a considerable extent. Gripping her scimitar, Siris stood by Russ and Tassid’s side.  

“Finish tending to your wounds. I’ll keep watch.”  

Russ and Tassid straightened their postures and focused on steadying their breathing. After a long moment of concentration, they finally felt a faint glimmer of Aura rise within them, no larger than a chestnut. Now, they just had to let their natural healing process take over.  

Feeling somewhat relieved, Russ turned his gaze toward the battlefield before them.  

The four-meter giant that was Attila rampaged ferociously, overpowering three Aura Users at once. A short distance away, Iniya held off two opponents, while Repenhardt dominated three, his presence almost divine.  

Watching them, Russ let out a deep sigh. Their strength was awe-inspiring, making him keenly aware of how far he still had to go.  

“…We have a long way ahead of us.”  

Tassid slumped his shoulders.  

“I thought we had gotten a lot stronger…”  

Of course, both he and Russ were confident that, in a one-on-one fight, they wouldn’t lose to any of the foreign Aura Users. The only reason they had ended up so battered was because of Sword Star Banatel. If they had been in peak condition, they wouldn’t have been struggling so much against Dekril or Marrad.  

However, even if they were at full strength, they still couldn’t imagine fighting multiple Aura Users at once like that.  

Hearing Tassid’s complaint, Russ shook his head.  

“We have gotten stronger. It’s just that there’s always another level above us.”  

“We’ll have to train even harder… if we want to stand up there with them.”  

Tassid grinned, baring his buck teeth, and Russ returned the smile.  

The two sat in silence, watching the battlefield unfold. Then, out of nowhere, Tassid nudged Russ’s side.  

“Hey, Russ.”  

Russ, still engrossed in the spectacle before him, turned to look.  

“What?”  

Tassid chuckled. Despite being battered and swollen all over from the fight, his friend wore an expression of pure excitement, practically glowing with joy. He could already guess why.  

Pointing at the battlefield, where countless Aura Users unleashed countless Aura Skills, Tassid asked,  

“Did you manage to pick up a lot?”  

Russ grinned slyly.  

“Jackpot. I’ll filter out the good ones and teach you later.”  

Even in their exhausted state, Russ couldn’t help but smile.  

They say that after hardship comes reward, turns out, the old sages were right about everything.

*         *         *

Unlike Russ and Tassid’s casual observations, Attila was far from comfortable.  

It was true that he was overwhelming the three Aura Users. However, at the same time, his body was accumulating more and more injuries.  

Berserk transformation undoubtedly increased all his abilities severalfold, but the cost was just as severe. Since it was a power that overdrove his regenerative ability, once he entered berserk mode, he could no longer heal himself.  

A Blade Aura grazed his shoulder, sending a spray of blood into the air. Enduring the pain, Attila let out a roar.  

“Krraaahh!”  

With his roar, the air compressed and struck Dekril with force. Though it barely brushed him, his Aura Guard shattered, and his arm swelled up instantly. Dekril clicked his tongue.  

“Tch! What the hell is with this strength?”  

Thanks to his berserk state, Attila’s attack power had multiplied. Every time he swung his arms, shamanic shockwaves rippled out, far stronger than before. With each passing wave, the Aura Users coughed up blood.  

Meanwhile, Repenhardt was pushing himself to his very limits, fending off three Aura Users.  

“Enchant Fist, Flame and Lightning!”  

Both of his fists ignited, crackling with blazing flames and thundering electricity.  

Up until now, he had avoided using magic to conceal his identity as a Mage, but this was a moment where he needed everything he had.  

Even just Lukawan and Geblik’s combined assault was enough to keep him barely on even footing. Now that Kamerun had joined the fight, relying on pure martial arts alone was no longer an option.  

This wasn’t the time to hold back. The corpse of Ricabon, who had died saving his techniques, was still rolling around on the battlefield. He had no intention of joining him in the dirt.  

“Thunder Fist!”  

Repenhardt countered Lukawan’s Aura Ring with Thunder Fist, simultaneously erecting a magical barrier using his specialized incantations.  

The martial techniques of Gym Unbreakable lacked finesse, making it difficult to land a decisive strike. But with precise magic reinforcing his attacks, the tide of battle began to shift.  

“Taaaaah!”  

With killing intent, Repenhardt launched a relentless assault. Even with his magic-enhanced attacks, fighting three opponents at once was no easy feat.  

At this point, he no longer had the luxury of thinking, I won’t kill anyone except those from the Empire.  

If he didn’t kill them, he would be killed himself.  

There was no room for arrogance in a battle like this. Repenhardt wasn’t foolish enough to hesitate in the face of death.

Lukawan was blocked by the magical barrier and struck by Thunder Fist, sending him staggering backward. Meanwhile, Geblik groaned in pain, his body scorched black from the successive flame explosions.  

Kamerun shouted in shock.  

“W-was that magic?!”  

Repenhardt had openly used magic, there was no way they wouldn’t recognize it. He clicked his tongue internally.  

‘Ah, they’ve finally caught on.’  

However, their reaction was quite different from what he had expected.  

“Be careful! The Fist King possesses a strange artifact!”  

Even now, they underestimated his martial arts. The legend of Gym Unbreakable’s brute strength had been passed down for generations, so no one in this era could even fathom the idea that the Fist King might be using magic himself. Naturally, they assumed it had to be an artifact.  

At Lukawan’s warning, Geblik looked utterly exasperated.  

“The so-called Fist King is using a tool?! Since when did Gym Unbreakable fall so low?”  

Gym Unbreakable had always rejected the use of tools, believing them to be cowardly. They refused to wield weapons or armor, let alone magic artifacts.  

To the now-charred Geblik, the situation felt downright unfair. He pointed an accusing finger at Repenhardt and shouted,  

“Your master is right here watching! Are you really going to disgrace yourself like this?!”  

‘Disgrace my ass.’  

Repenhardt sneered internally. Gerard was too absorbed in fighting Banatel to care about what he was doing. Let them believe whatever they wanted, it was better for him if they continued misunderstanding.  

Since things had come to this, he might as well go all out with magic.  

“Flame Bolt! Frozen Arrow! Wind Spear! Arcane Strike, Final Decision!”  

A storm of spells rained down, and within that chaos, Repenhardt himself raged like a tempest.  

Fighting back desperately, Lukawan suddenly felt a flicker of doubt.  

‘Wait a second… where the hell is this artifact?’  

Repenhardt was bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of pants. He had no necklace, no ring, no bracelet, not even an anklet.  

Where exactly could he be hiding an artifact in that outfit? Suspicion crept in.  

But in the end, Lukawan was still a product of his era’s common sense.  

‘…Is he keeping it in his underwear?’  

That was the best guess Lukawan could come up with.