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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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I kicked the shield of the warrior named Ioannes with all my might.
“Oof!”
Normally, his left arm would have snapped, but he managed to hold on. He had strong bones.
“Uwaaaah-! You barbarian!”
[Whoosh! Swish! Whirr!]
Despite the impact, he could no longer raise his left arm to his chest. Enraged, he swung the massive sword in his right hand wildly.
Though we were in a narrow space, blocked front and back, dodging those blind swings was no difficult task.
I anticipated the sword’s trajectory, subtly moving my head and upper body to evade three attacks. As Ioannes tried to retract his extended arm, I swiftly placed my axe blade against his elbow and pushed gently.
[Slice!]
My mastery of blades guided me to the path that could easily sever muscle and bone. As a result, Ioannes lost his right arm.
“Uwaaagh-!”
A shrill scream, unbefitting his size, escaped Basileios’s warrior.
I hoped he wouldn’t resent me too much. When blades crossed, one of them was bound to fall.
‘Go to Heaven or Hell.’
Since he was a traitor, Hell was more likely.
[Whirr! Thud! Ugh… Gurgle… Thump!]
Ioannes clutched his severed arm, blood gushing out. I swung my axe without hesitation, bringing it down on his neck. A dull thud resonated as Ioannes’s massive body toppled backward. His eyes rolled back the moment the axe blade struck, so he likely didn’t suffer for long.
[Shing-]
I retrieved the large sword that had fallen to the ground, exchanging it for the hand axe Ioannes had taken. The sword’s weight was evenly distributed along the blade, the hilt fitting snugly in my hand.
It seemed Basileios favored this warrior; he had given him a fine sword.
“Die, barbarian!”
[Swish-! Cling!]
I barely had time to examine the sword before an assassin swung at my head.
Metal striking metal produced a pleasant sound, but when two pieces of metal, wielded with the full force of a grown man, collided, one usually cracked, chipped, or bent.
Ioannes’s sword proved its quality as the assassin’s single-edged scimitar buckled. He wouldn’t have even registered the anomaly.
[Slice!]
“Ugh!”
I swung downwards diagonally, the blade passing through the assassin’s neck. I lunged forward, kicking another assassin in the solar plexus, then parried the incoming sword thrust from his side.
[Thud! Oof! Whirr- Cling!]
I deflected the sharply angled thrust with the side of my blade, closed the distance, and slammed my left fist into his neck. It snapped with a sickening crack.
[Crack!]
“Urgh! Gurgle…”
[Thump-]
‘Haa-’
I steadied my breath and looked up. Basileios was gone, only his brother, Marinos, remained, trembling as he pointed at me.
“Sh-Shoot him! Shoot him, I say!”
‘Shoot me?’
Marinos, having abandoned his calm facade and now screaming hysterically, gave the order. Archers, nocked and ready, emerged from behind him.
‘Four? No, five? Not many.’
“Scholae! Shields!”
“Shields!”
Even amidst the chaos of battle, ingrained instinct, honed through rigorous training, commanded the guards to obey. They raised their shields just as the archers released their arrows.
[Twang! Twang, twang! Thwack! Thwack-!]
I focused all my senses, my vision sharpening to the point of pain.
Arrows, loosed from the bowstrings, flew towards me, their tails fluttering like fish.
Time around me slowed. My body moved through a thick viscosity, obeying my will despite the immense weight.
[Whirr- Ting! Ting! Ting!- Thwack- Thud!]
With a wide sweep of my sword, I deflected three arrows. I ignored one that flew wide. I caught the one aimed at a vital point in my left hand.
[Twang! Twang, twang! Twang!]
There were no dramatic reactions from the enemy, no gasps of “He… he caught the arrow…!” like in some comic book. The archers simply continued firing, mechanically, their sole purpose to end my life.
But our warriors weren’t idle either. Noticing the concentrated fire on me, several Scholae, with almost superhuman skill, threw their javelins over the heads of the shield bearers, striking the enemy archers.
[Thwack- Ting! Ting, ting! Ting! Whirr! Whirr! Thud! Thud, thud!]
“Oof!”
“Ugh!”
Archers toppled backwards under the weight of the javelins. The barrage of arrows ceased. The remaining assassins, still numbering in the dozens, tried to renew their attack.
‘Not a chance!’
In such confined spaces, the difference between offense and defense was crucial.
I threw the arrow in my left hand at the bravest, or perhaps most foolish, assassin who had taken a step forward. The arrow flew like a dart, piercing his left eye. Screams erupted.
[Whoosh-! Slice! Whoosh- Cling! Thud! Slice!]
“Gurgle… Ugh…!”
‘Oof!’
Even the most disciplined assassins couldn’t maintain their composure after witnessing fifteen comrades die in an instant.
My sword, devoid of any special technique, simply moved too fast to parry. Crimson splattered as the Scholae, emboldened, pressed forward. The assassins began to retreat.
“This… this is impossible…”
Marinos, abandoned by Basileios, seemed unable to accept the reality before him. As our eyes met, and I took a step forward, he screamed and fled.
“Stop him! Stop him! I’ll bring reinforcements!”
‘What?’
Where would you find reinforcements? This was the emperor’s home turf.
Even I was momentarily taken aback. Marinos turned and sprinted down the blood-soaked corridor, his back to us.
Naturally, the assassins, motivated by profit rather than honor, followed suit, turning and fleeing one by one. The brave ones were already dead.
“Those bastards…!”
“Stop! Scholae! Hold your positions! We protect His Majesty!”
Several Scholae, enraged by the cowardly betrayal and the loss of their comrades, tried to pursue the assassins, but the captain of the Scholae, his voice filled with authority, brought the heated warriors back to their senses.
“He’s right. Your duty is to the emperor.”
He wasn’t wrong. A sound judgment.
The assassination attempt had failed. But there might be other plots afoot. Revenge was secondary; the emperor’s safety was paramount.
And Basiliskianos, passed out drunk with the emperor, needed protection as well.
“Konungr Helgi. You saved our lives. Thank you. Thank you for sparing us.”
Following their captain’s words, the Scholae, their senses returning, expressed their gratitude profusely.
I told them I had simply done what was necessary, retrieved the massive shield dropped by the dead Ioannes, and walked towards the corridor where moonlight was beginning to filter through the darkness and blood.
“Konungr Helgi! Where are you going?!”
The captain of the Scholae, tense once more, securing the corridor and deploying men to the inner chambers to prevent further incidents, called out to me.
“Isn’t it over yet? I’m going to follow the trail of blood. I need to assess the situation in the city.”
More importantly, I needed to find out where Basileios had gone.
“Brave captain of the Scholae, what is your name?”
I would inform the emperor when this farce was over. He needed to know who had risked their lives for him.
“I am Phokas…! Phokas of Cappadocia! Great warrior!”
Phokas of Cappadocia. Where was that? The name reminded me of a snack I enjoyed in my past life. Speaking of which, I wondered where potatoes originated.
“Very well, Phokas. Do your duty.”
“Of course! Konungr Helgi! Not even an ant will pass!”
“I trust you.”
Leaving Phokas and the valiant Scholae in the blood-soaked corridor, I stepped out into the cool night air of the city.
It seemed Basileios hadn’t targeted anyone other than the emperor.
The city was deathly silent, as was Rentakios. Where was that eunuch…? It turned out he had been dragged off by the emperor and forced to drink.
Damian was a cunning snake, but this one seemed… dull-witted? He followed the emperor’s every whim blindly.
‘Perhaps that’s why Basileios left him alive.’
In any case, it didn’t take long for the sleeping city to awaken.
Of course, how could it not? Hooded men sprinting madly through the city gates, a blood-soaked giant roaming the streets with a massive sword and shield…
The city guards, discovering the bodies of their comrades, likely killed by the assassins, raised a commotion. The captain of the guard rushed over, panicked at the sight of me. After I explained the situation, his face turned pale and he scurried off to wake the mayor.
‘Poor man… his career just went down the drain.’
The mayor, who had provided lodging for the emperor, had apparently borrowed someone else’s house. Unfortunately, even he had succumbed to the emperor’s insistence on drinking and was now passed out, unlikely to be of much help.
I simply let the frantic captain of the guard do as he pleased.
Servants, dark circles under their eyes from the late-night revelry, stumbled out of the palace, grumbling. They cried out in alarm at the sight of me sitting on a low rock outside, then screamed again as they entered the blood-soaked palace.
‘What in the world is going on…?’
They had declared the civil war over and celebrated for days, and now another one was about to begin.
‘There will be no co-rulers in my kingdom.’
It was no wonder the rulers of Silla, Goryeo, and Joseon had dreamt of absolute monarchy. The moment anyone thought they could share the throne, conflict was inevitable.
‘What should I do…?’
Would a Northmen kingdom be any different? Even with this incredible body, even if I lived to be 100 or more, I would eventually die.
Rome was truly a great teacher, even demonstrating its flaws for me to learn from.
‘I must ensure that there is no such thing as a co-ruler in my kingdom.’
This realization echoed the aspirations of past Korean monarchs who yearned for absolute power. The moment anyone entertained the thought of sharing the throne, conflict became inevitable.
‘What am I going to do…?’
Would a Northmen kingdom be any different? Even with this unbelievable physique, even if I lived past 100, I would eventually die.
Rome was truly a great teacher, demonstrating even its flaws for me to learn from, burning itself for my education.
Faced with this absurd situation, absurd thoughts filled my mind.
“So… you’re saying Basileios tried to kill me?”
Morning in Cyzicus.
A sweet aroma rose from the emperor’s cup.
Honeyed water, offered by the emperor, was in everyone’s hands.
[Slurp- Slurp- Gulp…! Gulp…!]
Unconcerned with decorum, the emperor slurped the hot water, swallowing it in one gulp to endure the pain.
“Ugh- Ugh- Ugh-”
As if trying to suppress something rising from within.
“This- damned…!”
[Crash!]
The hot water had backfired. The emperor’s face flushed crimson. He jumped to his feet, throwing his cup to the ground where it shattered.
“Basileios…! Basileios…! How could you…? How could you betray me, Basileios?!”
Denial, anger, sorrow, despair.
The emperor’s expression shifted rapidly, a storm of emotions he seemed unable to process.
“Your Majesty. We must return to Constantinople immediately. Basileios is surely headed for Macedonia.”
The speaker was Niketas Ooryphas, the empire’s sole Grand Admiral.
He had initially been wary of me (I later learned he was the one who had thwarted our Rus friends’ joyous raids in the Black Sea), but after last night’s assassination attempt, he now regarded me with respect. A true soldier.
Michael, freed from the maelstrom of emotions by Niketas’s words, nodded heavily.
“You are right, Niketas. We must move quickly.”
The joy and celebration of the previous day seemed like a distant dream. The emperor’s voice was devoid of strength.
“Indeed. You are correct, Niketas. We must depart at once.”
The previous day’s revelry felt like a distant dream. Michael’s voice was heavy with weariness.
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Duplicate chapter?