Regressor of the Fallen Family

Regressor of the Fallen Family Chapter 138

In fact, it was easier to sweep away the attacks with an area barrage than to fend them off one by one. Unlike ordinary knights, Logan had a spell suitable for such a situation. However, Logan chose to wield his sword and counter the onslaught of wind blades. His transcendent senses fully alerted him to the intangible blades whirling around, yet it was also because he needed to conserve strength. Roger Bifrost’s madness hinted that this battle would not be easily won.

As Logan deflected both the wind blades unleashed by Roger Bifrost and attacks by Aslan that fell in between, a strange inspiration dawned on him—a more efficient way to block this frantic assault. It was an idea that came easily to him, having directly experienced similar tactics multiple times before.

‘Could this work?’

The sensation of detonating a hundred Liberatios at once was still vivid, as was the glorious image of the ‘Silvery force blade’ blocking a similar attack head-on. The inspiration that tickled his mind soon materialized in his hand.

Sshwararak.

The golden force blade, which had only shown simple increases and decreases in length at one to three-meter intervals, suddenly compressed and stretched like a thin string, extending nearly seven meters. Then, bending freely at the will of its master, it struck the surroundings powerfully.

Sshwaah!

“Got it!”

Logan, cunningly imitating the enemy’s technique, quickly unravelled Roger Bifrost’s magic, and a bright smile formed on his lips. It wasn’t just the addition of another application for the force blade—it was a realization that his own power had evolved significantly. There was even a hint of understanding in regards to the fourth style of the divine sword spell, Flame Cutter, which had eluded him until now.

However, that smile—or more precisely, the whip-like force blade that provoked it—also drove someone watching nearby into a furious rage that made them lose their senses.

“How dare you!!”

Aslan’s entire body heated up with a reddish glow, giving rise to distinct red mists as if burning his very life force in a surge of dynamic power that went beyond Overheat, the method of drawing out power beyond one’s limits. In the space emptied by Roger Bifrost’s magic, Aslan charged like lightning.

‘Now’s the moment!’

The technique of an old friend had just been resurrected by the enemy’s hands.

Although filled with rage, Aslan did not intend to pass up this opportunity. Yes, the opportunity. The whip-shaped force blade, while excellent in utility and adaptability, had a fundamental weakness: a reduced cutting power of the force blade. Any part of the freely bending force blade, if struck with equivalent or greater force, would flaccidly snap—a drawback that made Franz a freakish power, overwhelming against the weaker but frail amongst peers. Franz himself struggled to overcome this weakness but ultimately failed, and could not easily cast aside and refine his method anew. The special force blade born from a fleeting moment of inspiration never changed its nature.

And now, the same applied to Logan.

‘Die cursing that genius!’

The timing was perfect. Instead of the wind blades, the air around Logan suddenly became chains, binding him with powerful restraint. At his master’s beckoning, a burst of red lightning erupted from Aslan.

‘I’ll pierce through, no matter what it takes!’

With that resolve, he threw his body forward with all his might.

And that became his fatal mistake. Even though the enemy was bound, the golden force blade moved freely. Unlike Franz’s, it did not snap against Aslan’s red lightning, but rather smoothly wrapped around and slightly deflected it in an astonishing display of agility.

‘Eh?!’

At the moment his all-out strike veered into thin air, the golden force blade bent to avoid his arm and sword, piercing directly into his neck with a snake-like movement. It was a smooth and sharp motion, unlike anything he had seen from his friend.

‘How on earth…?’

Until his vision blanked out, Aslan couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Hup!”

With a light use of the Wave Cutter, Logan broke free from Roger Bifrost’s binding spell. Finally free, he leaped over Aslan’s falling body and charged towards Roger Bifrost. The only ones remaining were the enemy knights falling in rapid succession. Charged with momentum, the McLaine knights’ company continued their assault on the enemy camp.

“Block them!!”

Roger Bifrost’s scream was like a shriek. Knights rushing to block the way. But enemies of inferior level stumbled helplessly under the golden whip, which fluctuated lightly, wrapping and tearing through them with ease. Logan had no need to rely on the large movements and energy-consuming visions of the divine sword or the ferocious Ironblood Sword to sweep away these weak foes. Calmly, Logan struck down each enemy in his path, slowly drawing closer to the enemy leader.

When he had finally closed in to about ten meters from his long-standing foe, he noticed that the once composed blue eyes were now twitching with madness.

“You, I must… at all costs!”

A bizarre aura filled the air, accompanied by a voice loaded with frenetic heat, as an overwhelming force began to stir around them.

“Count!”

“Aaagh!”

“How can this be…”

Surrounding Roger Bifrost, the twelve wind mages that had been supplying mana suddenly withered, releasing mana not white but red. The mixed red and white mana formed a gale within Bifrost’s staff, exploding outwards.

“Die!!”

With a blood-spitting shout, everything around Logan began to transform. The surrounding air itself seemed like an extension of the enemy’s limbs, abruptly making breathing difficult, before the air violently compressed, threatening to rip apart his limbs in different directions. At the same time, from beyond, thousands of transparent wind needles turned invisible and showered over him. While it felt like each one could bore holes in his flesh, the strange sensation it brought was more appalling to Logan.

‘Mana… No, it’s not that.’

It had a similar, yet denser and more alien energy mixed in with it. Since Logan had recently experienced a similar force, if only indirectly, he was sure of the nature of this alien sensation: Magic force. The power exclusive to magicians and mages who have attained the 6th circle. Roger Bifrost had somehow managed to leap beyond his limits, even if by illicit means.

Logan had no choice but to use his hidden ace.

‘Lux!’

A warm light emanated from the beloved sword Lux and quickly enveloped his entire body— the sole creation of a master dwarf, perhaps only one or two in a lifetime, imbibed with a soul. It was legendary among mages that when such a weapon finally resonated with the soul of its owner, it would evoke a unique characteristic. A natural magic of indeterminable class, the power of the Natural Artifact.

During the last battle, Lux awakened its property while repelling Juan Douglas’s magic. And, coincidence or not, it was similar magic that Logan had once experienced.

‘Time acceleration.’

Unlike the previous sensation from Aslan’s sword Velocitas, where acceleration left a sense of discomfort, this felt natural, as if it were an inherent ability— the full acceleration of both the mind and body, manifested into proprietary magic.

Though Logan didn’t fully understand why this was the most suitable magic for him, there was no time for such musings. ‘Merge!’ Waves of golden Force erupted from him, tearing apart the winds that pressed upon him. The Wave Cutter, with its 16 layers of golden waves, formed a temporary shield that was indeed powerful, but insufficient to block the thousands of wind fangs, the Exterminating Storm. Yet it was enough for Logan to break free momentarily.

‘Ghost’s Shadow.’ A combination of time acceleration and the power of the Boots of Wind God made it seem as if Logan had shortened space itself, allowing him to leave the range of the magic. The golden force blade, now in a semi-circular shape and evolved from Franz’s—into the Snake Blade—shredded through the dozens of wind fangs that blocked the way.

And there was Roger Bifrost’s face in the immediate view. Was it from the aftereffects of the magic, or had he truly gone mad? Once-composed blue eyes rolled back to show only white as blood vessels grotesquely bulged upon his contorted face. Seeing the end of a long and malevolent relationship reduced to this sorry state, Logan felt an empty pang in his heart as he charged with a grim expression. ‘Let’s end it here.’

A particularly intense golden light struck Roger Bifrost’s forehead. But, to his shock, it was blocked! A transparent protective barrier surrounding Bifrost shattered, repelling him. And what’s more—

“Logan McLaine!”

An icy chill washed over him as flashes of blue reappeared in the eyes, but Logan did not cease his attack. The golden force blade, bending gracefully, bypassed the reforming shield to maul the neck of the pale-faced and freshly conscious mage.

Snap.

A gush of blood followed, along with the vanishing shield. As Roger Bifrost’s eyes dimmed, Logan breathed an inner sigh of relief, but he knew the fight was not over.

“Together in death!”

An ominous hum emanated from the staff in Bifrost’s hand as mana rapidly gathered, again binding Logan’s body. But—

“Die alone, Count.”

A cold retort followed as the golden force blade cut off the hand wielding the staff.

“Aaack!”

As the staff dropped from his grasp, the madness faded from his face rapidly. Blond hair turned white in an instant, and protruding blood vessels became moles, swiftly aging him into the visage of a centenarian wrinkled man.

“This cannot be…”

With mana and life force nearly imperceptible, he appeared almost a half-corpse. Blood oozing black from the right arm stumped at the elbow reflected inevitable death. Approaching the last breath of a long-fought enemy, Logan felt a slight emptiness in his heart.

“Have you any last words?”

Enemies still resisted in all directions, but they were the minority. The victory of the battlefield had long been determined for McLaine.

“Krh, krh, krh. If not for you…!”

“Is that all for your last words?”

Even as Logan’s sword gleamed golden, Roger Bifrost tried to hurl insults. But as he sat collapsed, his gaze shifted behind Logan and, pointing with his remaining hand, he suddenly began laughing madly.

“Kukuk, kuku. This is not the end. You and your house will soon follow me! Hahaha!”

Following that ominous gesture, Logan’s expression twisted in horror. A whirlwind with an eagle soaring toward the sky, and at the forefront of the five hundred knights’ charge was one man—Logan swore.

“Damn it!”

“Krkr. The end for you…”

“Shut up!”

With a swish, Logan cut Roger Bifrost’s throat and shouted at his house’s soldiers who were cleaning up the battlefield.

“Wicken Callian! It’s the Army of the Storm Sword! We must secure the battlefield quickly!”

A true crisis had befallen McLaine just when they thought they’d overcome adversity.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!