30 Years after Reincarnation, it turns out to be a Romance Fantasy Novel

Chapter 178

“Covering your body in sword energy defies common sense.”

Why were unarmed martial artists like pugilists so rare?

It was because they couldn’t wrap their bodies in energy like swordmasters could with their weapons.

The density of such energy was too much for the fragile human body to handle.

Wrapping energy around one’s fists or feet might be an intriguing thought, but in practice, it was unthinkable. Attempting it could lead to the body melting or tearing apart.

But Ihan’s body…

Whoosh!

—"My body’s tougher than most armor or greatswords, so who cares?"

Trusting in his body’s durability, Ihan didn’t hesitate to attempt the Protective Aura Shield and then—

BOOM!

He charged forward.

The mass of soil and rocks threatening to engulf him didn’t faze him.

Crackle!

Every time the debris collided with him, it was either ground to dust or evaporated.

Crunch!

He advanced. As if to prove that this level of attack couldn’t touch him, he crushed and broke through everything in his way.

Without hesitation, without evasion, he charged directly ahead.

RUMBLE!

But it wasn’t just the overturned earth that targeted him—the spiraling tornado loomed before him.

A vortex of wind mixed with snow that swept through the area like a hurricane.

Logic dictated that, even with his Protective Aura Shield, colliding with such a force would send him flying.

‘I won’t be sent flying.’

Ihan trusted in his Protective Aura Shield, the culmination of his efforts.

He wouldn’t arrogantly claim he could destroy or dissipate the massive vortex. He knew he still had his limits.

But he could confidently say this—his strength was enough to push through.

??!

“He… broke through…?”

A mage who had narrowly survived the earlier thunderstrike muttered in disbelief.

Despite their hatred and contempt for the knight, they couldn’t help but let out a gasp of admiration.

The knight had broken through the vortex.

He hadn’t destroyed it, but he had managed to withstand it and force his way through—like a deeply rooted tree standing firm.

With nothing but the latent potential of his seemingly frail human body compared to the vast forces of nature, he had overcome the tornado rather than simply surviving it.

A moment that could inspire epic ballads, though few would believe it.

“??.”

Yet Ihan showed no interest in the feat he had accomplished.

Gritting his teeth, he dashed forward with terrifying determination.

He cared not for the legacy of his achievement. What mattered was that he had finally reached his goal—the monster before him.

Crackle!

Gripping his axe tightly, Ihan leaped into the air, spinning his body forward to increase the force behind the weapon.

“-This will hit.”

With resolute intent, he swung the axe at the monster.

THUD!

Swoosh!

And his will succeeded—he severed the monster’s arm.

*****

…For a moment, there was silence.

“What? …What… wha… what?”

When faced with events that defied reality, people often lost the ability to articulate.

The mages of the Magic Tower were no exception; their language faculties seemed to collapse.

What had just occurred was beyond belief.

“The Tower Master’s arm…!”
“It’s been cut off…?”
“…This must be a dream. It has to be… this can’t be real!”

The onset of panic.

They clutched their heads and rubbed their bloodshot eyes.

Turr was insane. He was a lunatic who killed indiscriminately and a leader wholly unfit for his position.

But he was an Archmage—a being who had reigned at the pinnacle of the Central Continent for the past four centuries.

He was, in many ways, the king of mages, a god within the Magic Tower.

And now, that god’s arm had been severed.

It was sacrilege.

It was like witnessing the collapse of a nation before their eyes—or perhaps something even worse.

For mages, the disbelief was only natural.

This was Turr de Seigan, the King of Magic, who cast impossible spells with ease.

And yet, the King of Magic had been injured.

No, he had lost an arm.

While the mages were paralyzed with disbelief, Turr himself…

“Impressive, truly. This is the first time I’ve faced such danger!”

The self-proclaimed king of mages was smiling brightly as he looked at his severed arm.

Even though the pain must have been unbearable,

“Oh, I don’t feel pain. I modified my body extensively, so at most, it just tingles a bit. That said, this is truly dangerous—I can’t regenerate it! Haha! …Hmm, maybe the destructive energy that soaked into my arm is preventing regeneration? What a headache….”

Turr examined the situation with a calm curiosity, as though fascinated by his own predicament.

To an outsider, he might even appear deranged.

But the knight facing Turr knew better.

“You’re so far gone, you’ve lost all sense of reality, haven’t you?”

“That’s correct. When you live for 400 years, all your emotions, memories, and senses get pretty broken. Did you know most of this body isn’t even mine? Nearly everything except my brain is transplanted! Side effect: I got a bit younger-looking!”

“……”

“Why the silent treatment? Let’s have a chat!”

Turr wasn’t simply insane. He had ceased to be human.

BOOM!

Ihan felt no need to talk with this monster who proudly flaunted his theft of others’ bodies.

There was no point. Any time spent talking would be better spent cutting the creature to pieces.

Preferably—

‘The head or neck.’

He resolved to obliterate one or the other completely, leaving no chance of regeneration.

Ihan charged again.

With his Protective Aura Shield, the ultimate offense and defense, Ihan plunged forward once more.

Utilizing Shadow Step, Ihan shot forward, axe raised high like a lumberjack about to cleave wood.

This time, his target was the head.

But—

[Protect me.]

THUD!

A powerful resonance stopped Ihan’s attack.

“...Unbelievable. A single knight breaking through hundreds of layers?”

Hundreds of defensive spells had deployed simultaneously, creating a massive Labyrinth around Ihan.

Swish!

The thousands of defensive spells Turr had prepared using Memorize unfolded at once, forming a strange phenomenon: a death trap of defenses and obstacles, impossible to escape.

“You’re too dangerous.”

Turr was no longer taking any chances.

Acknowledging Ihan as a legitimate threat, he decided:

“I’ll seal you away.”

Whoosh!

Turr directed every one of the thousands of defensive spells surrounding him into the labyrinth.

It was wiser to seal away this dangerous knight than to face him directly.

“No matter how strong you are, you can’t escape a labyrinth built from thousands of layers of defensive spells.”

As long as Turr lived, the labyrinth would regenerate endlessly. Escape was impossible.

It was the very definition of sealing.

“Pity. This was originally meant for the Demon King….”

A trump card designed to capture the [Demonic Beast]—the Troll King, who had lived for a thousand years.

But the Troll King would have to wait.

“…And what about you?”

“……”

“Hmm, I see you’ve killed all the old ones. How cruel. Haha.”

“They stood in my way. It was inevitable.”

Drip. Drip.

Blood dripped from the short sticks Raq held.

Not his own blood, but that of three slain Archmages.

While Ihan fought Turr head-on, the three archmages desperately tried to intervene, preventing anyone from interfering. Yet, they were utterly powerless against Raq, who was engulfed in crimson flames. Alone, Raq annihilated all three archmages—a feat nothing short of extraordinary.

With their deaths, the five archmages of the Magic Tower were no more. This moment marked the complete end of an era.

“Hm…”

Turr tilted his head slightly, observing the situation.

The floating fortress had collapsed.
The Bronze Giants, the guardians of the Magic Tower, were eradicated.
Over 85% of the Magic Tower’s mages, including its archmages, were dead.

The Magic Tower was, for all intents and purposes, destroyed.

However—

“Ugh, when will I ever restore all of this?”

Turr spoke as if this catastrophe was little more than an inconvenience.

“Well, squeezing the Empire dry for three years should do it.”

“……”

To Turr, the destruction meant little. As long as he remained alive, the Magic Tower could be rebuilt, stronger than ever. He had no doubt about that.

The Tower’s vast wealth, hoarded over centuries, wasn’t just gold or jewels. It was the accumulated intellectual treasures—knowledge, research, and forbidden secrets—that truly made it powerful. As long as that knowledge existed, mages would flock to the Tower.

After all, the pursuit of forbidden knowledge was in their nature.

“Once I’m done dealing with you, I guess I’ll have to bury myself in work for a while. Ugh, my miserable life… What kind of suffering is this at my age?”

“Stop whining.”

“Hehe, just trying to sound like an old man. Did I nail it?”

“……”

“Oh, come on, let’s stop this. Look, I admit you’re dangerous, but even you can’t take my head. At best, you’ll get an arm or an eye.”

Raq adjusted his stance once more, but Turr waved dismissively. He no longer underestimated them, especially not the crimson flames surrounding Raq.

Those flames could certainly break his magical forcefield, but they wouldn’t kill him. He still had thousands of spells left at his disposal.

‘Though if I’m being honest, I only have five spells that can definitely kill that knight.’

It was an absurd thought—being pushed to such a degree by knights far younger than him.

“I guess I’m starting to become a relic of the past, huh? Haha.”

To an outsider, it might sound like a self-deprecating remark.

But Raq knew better.

That wasn’t regret or humility—it was just idle banter.

Turr was still enjoying himself.

“So, you two—you're knights of Pendragon, aren’t you?”

Turr wasn’t just guessing—he was certain.

“No, you must be from Pendragon. In this era, only Pendragon could still produce knights of this caliber. That mysterious kingdom, blessed by dragons and fairies… I’m jealous. The Empire and the other continents are all cursed by the mystics, but Pendragon? They’re loved.”

Pendragon.

A kingdom renowned for its strength and mystical lineage for over 400 years.

How many times had the Empire tried to conquer them, only to face humiliating defeats?

Too many to count.

And the cause of those defeats?

“Even now, Pendragon still has Aura Users, doesn’t it? Those beings who transcend human limits? …Amazing. How is it possible for ‘creatures like that’ to exist? Even more astonishing is that Pendragon has never failed to produce an Aura User throughout its entire history. Fascinating, really.”

“……”

“If Aura Users hadn’t been despised by the ‘gods’ of the Central Continent, how many times would they have come for my head? Thinking about it, I guess the gods are occasionally useful.”

Turr laughed, a sinister grin spreading across his face as he looked at Raq.

“Alright, I’ve decided! I was going to let you go earlier, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll kill you both. You’re far too dangerous. And after I’m done, I’ll order the Empire to go to war with Pendragon.

“I’ll enslave Pendragon’s knights, bring them here in droves. Among them, there will undoubtedly be those with the same potential as you two. Yes, surely.”

Turr could see it clearly.

The knights before him, Ihan and Raq, were individuals who had the potential to become Aura Users.

Of course, they had only met a few of the countless conditions required. Yet even with just two or three fulfilled, they had managed to deal him significant damage.

That alone made them a threat.

It would be far safer to enslave and exploit knights who were less dangerous but still possessed potential.

Better that than letting today’s events repeat themselves.

“Isn’t it horrifying? Because of you two, Pendragon and the Empire will go to war. Of course, they’ll win in the end—Aura Users, after all. Haha!”

Even so, the war would inflict significant damage, and Turr would get exactly what he wanted: countless test subjects and experimental materials.

Without lifting a finger, his goals would be achieved.

Laughing, Turr reveled in the thought of what was to come.

He anticipated the future as if he could already see it unfolding—

“Do you know the Demon King is dead?”

“…What?”

“Of course you don’t. It’s obvious how little you leave the Magic Tower. Like a cockroach hiding in its hole.”

“What… what do you mean dead…?”

Turr momentarily lost his smile. Blinking, he asked again as if doubting what he had just heard.

"Is that true?"

But Raq only reiterated the facts.

"He’s dead. Killed by the knight you sealed away."

"Th-that’s impossible! There’s no way…"

Turr knew the knight’s strength well. Even so, killing the Demon King? That was a different matter entirely.

To kill the Demon King, one would have to annihilate every last cell of its body without leaving even a speck behind.

And that knight didn’t appear to possess such a skill.

So how…?

Tock, tock.

Raq tapped his temple.

"Strength isn’t the only weapon of a knight."

"??"

Raq’s gesture conveyed a point.

Of course, raw power was critical for a knight.

A knight must wield a sword with precision, fight with skill, and be a living weapon on the battlefield.

But at their core, knights were also soldiers, often commanding troops as officers on the battlefield.

Some knights, while physically frail due to chronic illness, achieved their rank purely through strategy and tactics.

The title of "knight" implied more than just physical might; it also required wit.

"That brute may look the part, but he’s clever."

The same applied when the knight faced the Demon King.

Although Raq hadn’t witnessed it directly, eyewitness accounts painted a clear picture: the knight fought in an environment he had meticulously prepared to his advantage and held his ground until reinforcements arrived.

Even now, it was no different.

"Thank you for staying arrogant until the end. Thank you for underestimating us to the very last moment."

"…?"

For the first time, Raq expressed gratitude toward Turr—not disdain.

Turr started to ponder the meaning of Raq’s words, but—

[-Kya-ha-ha!]

"……."

It didn’t take long for Turr to understand.

Fwoosh.

A girl surrounded by a radiant aurora appeared, her beautiful laughter brightening the atmosphere.

Turr’s eyes widened as he turned his gaze to the sky.

[Laughter rang out.]

A fairy was laughing.

"The brute called this operation a diversionary tactic."

For the first time, a smile spread across Raq’s face.

The Fairy of Spring, who had been sealed, had descended.

Rustle, rustle…

"I—I think I’m dying…"
"……."
"Young master? You’re not dead, are you?"
"…I’m not dead."

The aftermath of the battle was evident. Two men and one woman, alongside the crumpled forms of fallen golems and mages, lay sprawled across the battlefield.

Yet, the ones still standing were the knight’s apprentices, while the mages had been defeated.

The core of the Magic Tower had been shattered.

The three knights, unable to even raise their hands, slumped to the ground, drained of all strength.

Covered in sweat, blood, and dust, they felt sticky and sore but—

"At least we won’t get scolded by the instructor."
"That’s true."
"Do you think we’ll get praised instead?"

With faces full of satisfaction, they exchanged bright smiles.

?Spring would return to this land once more.