Dynasty Rebirth Infinity

Slash* Splat*

"148," Ewan coldly said, killing his sixth Chief.

"(Monster!)"

"(Demon!)"

"(Run!)"

The Barbarian's morale was at an all-time low, losing their Chiefs and even a venerated War Chief! His blood-soaked image struck fear and terror in them, causing them to flee.

Ewan ignored the retreating rabble, focusing on the next Chief. He could continue swinging away at the rabble, but he would quickly grow tired. Hence, it was better to focus on the higher-quality prey. That would achieve the most devastating effect.

As Ewan was about to continue his slaughter, he halted and looked at the enemy lines again. Two prominent figures emerged, one holding two hand axes and another a claymore. However, they no longer had that overly confident air about them. They stared at Ewan as if looking at a dangerous foe.

"War Chiefs. Two of them. Seems like I drew a lot of attention. And it doesn't look like they would underestimate me anymore." Ewan thought.

Ewan didn't disillusion himself into thinking he was overly powerful because he killed a War Chief so quickly. He knew that only half the reasoning was his skill and meager magical skills, and the other was the element of surprise. Now that they were wary, he couldn't kill them with such ease again.

"And I also don't have a proper weapon." Ewan thought, still holding his trusty sword sleek in Barbarian blood.

As for the enchanted Warhammerr? He ignored it. He was unfamiliar with handling a Warhammer, so even if it was a superior weapon, it was better not to use it.

"Perhaps I should familiarize myself with other weapons later." Ewan thought before eyeing the enchanted claymore in one of the War Chiefs' hands. "But that sword would do nicely."

Of course, he needed to either disarm or kill the opponent, so it was better to forget about it.

Just then-

"Sir Ewan, I came to reinforce you." A heroic female voice sounded.

Ewan glanced to the side, noting that one of Fladrinne's female Grand Knight bodyguards came to his aid, wielding a greatsword and tower shield.

"Thanks. Your name, Miss?" Ewan asked, his eyes locked on the two opponents.

"Valli," Valli said before briefly eyeing Ewan. And then her eyes widened. "Wait, did you kill that War Chief with that lump of useless metal?" 

"It seems like, in their eyes, I am a poor pauper." Ewan warily thought, noting Valli had entirely enchanted equipment.

Valli stayed silent before sticking her Great Sword into the earth, drawing one of two side-arms, a long sword, and throwing it to Ewan, who caught it.

It was a golden-yellow sword covered in silverish-blue engravings.

"Orichalcum, enchanted with Sturdy and Sharp. It isn't the best out there, but enough to defend yourself without your weapon breaking." Valli briefly explained, pulling her Greatsword from the soil.

"Thanks." Ewan gave it two test swings, finding the sword easy to use, and tossed away his lump of useless metal.

With a new weapon, Ewan focused on the two Barbarians but noted that they didn't make a move.

"Hm? Why aren't they attacking?" Ewan frowned.

"Because of you," Valli replied. "They were likely ordered to stall you here for the rest of the battle. They were also likely ordered to draw a Grand Knight out, mutually making both sides unable to make a move."

"So they are using their numerical advantage, hah?" Ewan guessed.

"Correct." Valli nodded.

"Hm. I guess the only option is to kill those two, then." Ewan muttered.

Although he could continue slaughtering the enemy, it would gradually sap his stamina. With two threats present, he wouldn't have the time to take a breather before being forced into a disadvantageous battle.

"Kill them? I am unsure what tricks you used to kill the first one, but they would not fall for it a second time. It is remarkable to kill a War Chief in battle and stall another- enough for great merits after the battle. Why would you throw your life away like a madman?" Valli said and also tried discouraging Ewan from throwing his life away.

Although not an official Grand Knight, he had the strength of one, and every Grand Knight was a strategic resource for even the Magical Academies. She didn't want to see him die here.

"Can you stall one of them?" Ewan didn't answer, instead asking while motioning to the two War Chiefs.

"Well, yes, I-" Valli frowned, a bad feeling rising in her heart.

"Good. Stall the one with two axes for two minutes." Ewan said before charging at the one with the claymore.

"What?! MADMAN!" Valli exclaimed and charged at the War Chief with two axes.

On the other side, the two War Chiefs were also stunned.

"(Madman!)" Blubbat, the one with a claymore, uttered as he saw Ewan charge him.

"(Does he have a death wish?!)" Hroppeill, the one with the twin axes, exclaimed as he locked his gaze on Valli, who came to assist.

"(If he wants a fight, then I will give him one!)" Blubbat said, preparing himself.

"(Careful of his magic!)" Hroppeill remainded.

"(I know.)" Blubbat replied.

Clang* Crr*

Moments later, Ewan clashed with Blubbat, sword against sword.

Valli and Hropeill also started fighting.

Clang* Clang* Clang* Clang*

Ewan and Blubbat exchanged a dozen sword strikes, their strength evenly matched. However, this was also partially because Blubbat held himself back, unable to move and fight as he pleased due to diverting part of his attention to the ground. He also refrained from using his Berserker powers due to fearing the inevitable backlash of using it if Ewan used dirty delaying tactics.

But he didn't know that Ewan was also holding back.

"Hm. This sword is excellent. I wonder if I can keep it later." Ewan idly wondered.

That's right. Ewan was testing his new weapon. He didn't even use his Earth Aura. He just casually matched the opponent.

"But jeez, this guy isn't a good duelist. Is he overly relying on his brute force?" Ewan guessed.

Ewan was unjustly thinking this. War Chief Blubbat had a lvl 7 skill in Two-Handed Swordsmanship, which is already considered an expert. To most Grand Knights and their equivalents, lvl 7 in a weapon was a standard level for their primary weapon due to their limited time and energy. Those who practiced to lvl 8 were already masters, and those who reached lvl 9 were grandmasters. As for level 10? Only madmen would train to that point!

Also, due to their mighty prowess, they had few opponents to train against, so they had little opportunity to hone their weapon skills.

However, Ewan, a reincarnated Peak Knight, was different. In his previous life, he never worked the land, granting him the privilege to practice and hone his skills like a madman in his entire lifetime. Also, unlike others, he allocated every stat point to Intelligence, creating a snowball effect that made him learn skills faster than his peers several times over.

Due to this, he was a madman with lvl 10 Swordsmanship at the end of his life!

So to Ewan, Blubbat, an Expert well in his thirties, was like a child flailing a dangerous stick full of openings. When he didn't have a proper weapon, he could only choose to dodge, but now-

"Let's end this." Ewan decided.

Immediately, Ewan's swordsmanship began to change. The speed of his swings remained the same, but the subtlety and force exerted were different. Within a few strikes, Blubbat's eyes widened in horror as he found it harder and harder to defend.

"W-What is this?! How is his swordsmanship so good?!" Blubbat thought in incomprehension.

He saw that Ewan was around 30, at most 35. Most Grand Knights reached that level thanks to highly advanced Breathing Techniques with over 20 Stances, trained from childhood to at least lvl 6 to 8 in their thirties. In terms of Strength, Ewan showed this level, which was understandable. In terms of sorcery, although he had masterful control, the spells he displayed were low-level ones, and he was, at most, a 3rd-level Apprentice. That was also understandable.

But what puzzled and horrified him was Ewan's swordsmanship. Reaching lvl 7 in your thirties was the norm, and reaching lvl 8 shows dedication and talent. But Ewan showed a level that rivaled the most fanatic and aged sword users in their tribes! It was as if he was facing a swordmaster who practiced the sword his whole life! But the problem was that such swordmasters were limited by their aging bodies, unable to exert the full might they had in their youth!

"Who is this guy?! A reincarnated old monster?!" Blubbat thought with increasing panic, unaware he had made the correct guess.

Dang* Dang* Slash* Dang* Dang* Dang* Dang* Slash* Dang* Dang* Dang* Dang* Slash*

Within dozens of moves, Blubbat had various lacerations and wounds, some deep, some shallow, bleeding the strength out of him. It filled him with increasing fear for his life. So he made a desperate call while gradually retreating.

"(HELP!)" Blubbat yelled out, forgetting his pride.

"(Blubbat?!)" Hroppeill exclaimed in shock, kicking Valli's shield, causing her to stagger back and look to the side, only to widen his eyes in horror as he saw Blubbat, a man as strong as he, being overwhelmed, injuries marring his body.

Without thinking for another moment, he threw one of his axes at Ewan, intending to give Blubbat enough time to distance himself.

Woo* Woo* Woo* Woo*

Ewan noticed it and immediately stepped back, allowing the axe to pass, giving Blubbat enough breathing room to back away.

"(Men! Help me attack this freak!)" Blubbat shouted as he tried backing away. But suddenly, his expression changed.

His foot sank too deeply into the soil, up to the calf.

"SHIT!" Blubbat widened his eyes in horror, understanding he had fallen into a trap.

"Harden Soil." Ewan silently cast.

The next moment, the soil around Blubbat's leg became like concrete. His leg wasn't injured since he wasn't running that fast, and his body was powerful, but it would take a few moments to free himself. And that proved fatal. Ewan was already charging at him.

"(LET'S DIE TOGETHER THEN!)" Blubbat's eyes turned red, his muscles inflating into his berserker state, and he swung his sword with all his might at Ewan, intent on exchanging injury for injury.

But Ewan docked at the last moment, the sword missing him by a hair, before making a low roundhouse slash at Blubbat's trapped leg with his sword covered with a brown aura.

Woosh* Woosh* Slash* Splat* Pshh* Thud*

"AHHHH!!!!"

Blubbat's left leg separated from his body, followed by a heartwrenching cry that shook the air as he collapsed on his back, his leg bleeding the life out of him. However, even with this severe injury, he could still function, showing his abnormally robust physique as a War Chief.

The battlefield slowly turned silent as both forces looked over. Even Valli and Hroppeill briefly stopped fighting. They saw a War Chief collapse on his back, his leg freshly amputated as a grim reaper paced toward him.

"(AH!!! GO AWAY!)" Blubbat yelled in a mixture of horror and anger, pointing his sword at Ewan as he dragged his body back with one hand.

"Slippery Soil." Ewan instantly cast a spell on where Blubbat's left hand used to push his body.

"Oof!" Blubbat slipped, falling to the ground, creating an opening.

Without mercy, Ewan swung at Blubbat's other leg.

Slash* Psh*

"(AHH!!! You bastard!)" Blubbat screamed and started wildly swinging his sword.

However, without the proper legwork, his swings were empty. Ewan quickly found an opening.

Dang* Slash* Psh* Clang*

"(AH!!! FUCK!!!)" Blubbat screamed, his sword hand dropping to the ground along with his hand.

Ewan then mercilessly stepped on his torso, his eyes stone-cold and emotionless. That made Blubbat calm down from his hysteria.

"(Do it... DO IT!!!)"

Slash* Thud* Psh*

Blubbat's head rolled on the ground, his expression frozen between anger and horror.

 

[You have slain the powerful in honorable combat.]

[Willpower +1]

 

"149." Ewan coldly said and turned to look at where Valli and Hroppeill fought. However, Hroppeill fled the battlefield, forgetting his pride. Valli was unable to stop him from running.

He then looked at the Barbarian army, which was horror-struck, picked up Blubbat's severed head, and yelled.

"I AM EWAN, GRAND ELDER OF KNIGHTLEDGE! DOES ANYONE ELSE WANT A TASTE OF MY BLADE?!"

His voice resounded on the battlefield, making both sides react.

"(RUN!)"

"(MONSTER!)"

The Barbarians screamed, their morale shattered as they fell into chaos. Some tried to continue fighting, but many ran away, causing those who were left to be overwhelmed and slaughtered.

"KILL THEM!"

"NO MERCY!"

"FOR EWAN!"

"FOR THE GRAND ELDER OF KNIGHTLEDGE!"

"KILL!!!"

The allied force's morale bolstered, entering a frenzy as they started hacking away at the fleeing Barbarians.

"You killed not one, but two War Chiefs in one battle. Your achievements are truly- great." Valli approached and said while sheathing her Greatsword, her eyes filled with disbelief as she looked at the fallen War Chief's head, whose skill rivaled hers.

"Thanks for the sword," Ewan said, tossing the severed head at the enemy before throwing the lent sword back to her and picking the claymore on the ground. "I will keep this as a trophy."

"..." Valli wordlessly caught the sword, cleaned it with a cloth, and sheathed it before glancing at the broken Barbarian forces. "Are you about to continue fighting?"

"I think if I did that, the enemy Shaman would take personal action," Ewan replied, his eyes locking with the cold eyes of the enemy Shaman.

"And I thought you were a madman," Valli smirked.

"Madman? Perhaps. But I am not stupid." Ewan said and walked back to rally his men.

Valli also accompanied him, her eyes growing interested as she looked at Ewan's back.

.

.

.

"Swordmaster. Not just a Combat Wizard, but a Swordmaster. And such a young one." The female Shaman uttered, her voice stone-cold as she clenched her staff, locking eyes with that man.

She witnessed the whole battle, and while she wanted to assist her men, she couldn't. Looking to the enemy backlines, she locked eyes with the enemy Wizard, Fladrinne. Her sharp eyes could already see the smug and provocative look on her face as if daring her to make a move and waste her precious magical power.

"Lucky bitch." She cursed in her mind, restraining her anger.

She reluctantly let go of him. She couldn't afford to waste her energy to fling a spell or curse at him.

"Shaman, the right flank is shattered! What are your orders?" One of the War Chiefs asked.

"Have the reserves rally the men and help stabilize the battle lines. That monstrous man finally had his fill." The female Shaman said.

"Yes, Shaman." The War Chief saluted and went to give the order.

Just then, Hroppeill ran over, having only one axe since he dared not recover the other, and knelt to the Shaman under the other War Chiefs' disdainful eyes.

"Shaman! I beg forgiveness for fleeing!" Hroppeill begged.

"Rise. I won't blame you for your cowardice this time since your life is important. But there won't be a next time." The Shaman, being in a bad mood, coldly said.

"Yes, Shaman. I shall die with honor next time." Hroppeill shuddered, stood up, and returned to the ranks of the War Chiefs.

Although the War Chiefs held some disdain for him, they didn't rub salt in his wounds, knowing they would likely not fare much better.

"Ewan... Grand Elder of Knightledge. I will remember you." The Shaman narrowed her eyes at Ewan's receding figure.

.

.

.

After gathering his men, who fell from the original 50-odd to 30-odd, and returned them to the backlines, he went to where the commanders were, the female Wizard and the Grand Knights.

The mere sight of him struck both fear and respect in the Grand Knights present.

"Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. Ewan, Grand Elder of Knightledge. Your name shall now be feared and famed." Fladrinne playfully clicked her tongue on her commander's seat. To say she was pleased was an understatement.

"151," Ewan replied, having killed two unlucky Barbarians on his way back.

"You kept a headcount?" Fladrinne raised an eyebrow.

"I keep my word." Ewan cooly replied.

"Heh! You certainly did. You said you would kill Barbarians, and you killed Barbarians. Your achievements in this battle were great. Do you know how many lives one War Chief is worth?" Fladrinne asked.

"One." Ewan honestly replied.

"Hah?" Fladrinne and the other Grand Knights who listened widened their eyes.

"A War Chief has one head, one beating heart, and one soul to harvest. One." Ewan said with clear eyes.

In his eyes, a man who reincarnated several times, a lofty king or a little peasant, their lives were all the same.

When Fladrinne looked him in the eye, she saw their clarity and shuddered for the first time in twenty years. She could tell that, in his eyes, her life was as worthy as that of the most common soldier on the battlefield.

"Madman. Perhaps such zeal is what is needed to be a Swordmaster?" Fladrinne thought.

"You are one honest man, aren't you?" Fladrinne warily said.

"I am a farmer," Ewan replied.

"That you are." She said with mild amusement. "Everyone has one life and soul. But, like all crops, each soul has a different value. The credit for killing a War Chief is the same as slaying a thousand men, 300 Chieftains, or 30 Chiefs, or 30 Lesser Shamans. In other words, although your headcount is 151, your true contribution is over 2,000 from those two kills alone, and you singlehandedly routed the left flank. Roughly calculated, your credit should be worth around 3,000. You are the most distinguished in this battle. Congratulations." Fladrinne said.

"What of the enemy Shaman?" Ewan curiously asked.

"Her? Heh. Forget it. You won't be able to kill her. But if I put a price on her head, it is 10,000. But she would likely escape, they always do, so even I won't be able to claim her head." Fladrinne reclined back and said.

"Then what is the point of this entire battle?" Ewan asked for the first time.

"Resources, pure and simple. I won't bore you with the details, but they suffered a great hit because of you. Ezith, that bitch, must want to flay your soul before killing all seven generations of your family." Fladrinne revealed.

Ewan's expression immediately darkened. "Would she?"

"Perhaps. I wouldn't rule it out. It might not be today, but perhaps tomorrow or maybe after a decade. Who knows? Wizards live long lives." Fladrinne said.

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Ewan frowned.

"Don't rejoin the battle again. Also, bring your family under the influence of Gaxarth's Wizard Academy. I promise them protection, for all it is worth." Fladrinne said.

"Then I will follow your arrangements." Ewan decisively said.

Knowing the mysteries of witchcraft, although he didn't fear for his own life, he did worry about his family. If they died, who would continue his little dynasty? And that part about flaying his soul sounded ominous. If she did that, could he revive again? That wasn't a question he wanted to think about.

"Good. Then stay near me and wait for the battle to end." Fladrinne smiled and said.

And so Ewan patiently waited, watching the battle with the other commanders.