The Legendary Spearman Returns

Priests and paladins, despite their devotion to their god, weren’t any different from any other human. Factions existed within the Great Temple. The factions led by the three cardinals had been the most influential in the past; the priests and paladins had sworn their loyalty to the man they believed was most likely to become the next pope in the hopes of gaining more power when he became pope.

Aside from those who had been sent outside the empire under imperial orders, all of the people in the Great Temple were in Kurz’s faction and had been serving him for a long time.

“Do you think the news of the incident in the Palace is true?”

A total of fifty-three paladins who were in Kurz’s faction from the start made their way away from the capital. It didn't take long for them to reach their destination because the Great Temple was relatively far from the palace but was close to the city’s outer reaches.

“Duke Jook told me himself, so I have to assume that it’s at least somewhat credible,” Weirman, their leader and the only Class 1 paladin at the site, replied.

“Isn’t it strange, though? The palace’s security is the highest it’s ever been right now with all the nearby nobles’ private soldiers guarding it. How is he supposed to...?”

Weirman’s eyes narrowed. “That’s why we need to see for ourselves.”

“What do you mean?”

“The nobles having grievances against His Majesty is nothing new. An extraordinary genius, the Battle God, showed up out of nowhere and handed His Majesty the throne, so many of them would think His Majesty got his crown by pure luck.”

“A-Are you thinking about a coup...?”

“I’m merely talking about a possibility,” Weirman answered.

Before arriving at the site, Weirman had tried to put himself in Jook’s shoes. If Jook didn’t just have a grievance and had ambitions of overthrowing the reigning monarch, now was the perfect chance because he wouldn’t raise any suspicion by bringing his army into the palace.

“Is that why you only brought a handful of people?”

“If a problem were to arise here, we’d be helpless. I’m trying not to get us all killed.”

“I see..”

Weirman’s paladins looked at him with respect. Their superior was known for his brilliant mind and martial prowess which was comparable to the White Lion.

“Have you sent the watchers to each of the gates?” Weirman asked.

“Yes, I have.”

“If this is a trap, troops will pour out from one of the four gates. Once we detect any wind, we’ll retreat right away.”

“Yes, sir!”

Weirman coldly stared down the seemingly endless tunnel. The entrance was usually covered, but it was wide open now. If Jook hadn’t told Weirman and the paladins to go here, Weirman would never have come here himself, but...

‘Only the Imperial Family knew about this escape route. Even if there are droves of enemies coming through it, only two to three people can attack us at a time, considering the width of the tunnel, so we’ll have plenty of chances to escape,’ Weirman thought.

Some of the paladins were preparing for the potential battle near the exit of the tunnel.

“How far along are we?”

“We’re almost done!”

The paladins finished burying traps from the Magic Tower in the ground and then stood up. If anyone that wasn’t the emperor showed up, Weirman was going to detonate those traps before they could attack.

“In times of war like this, we always have to assume the worst. Does everyone understand?” Weirman shouted.

“Yes, sir!”

“Get ready! They’ll be coming soon!”

Just then, Weirman detected several presences inside the tunnel. Although the others hadn’t noticed them yet, Weirman was on another level. His eyes narrowed intently.

‘There are at least two of them.’

One was clear, and the other was incredibly faint, almost nonexistent, which meant that both of them were formidable opponents.

‘...No, wait.’ Weirman's eyes slowly widened. ‘Is that a third? There are definitely two Masters and another one who’s either equal to the other two or weaker. And one of the Masters is stronger than me.’

Weirman immediately drew his sword. “Ready the traps, now!”

With practiced actions, the paladins quickly infused their mana into the magic traps, bringing all five humming to life.

The three people coming down the tunnel could be the emperor and his bodyguards, but the chances were very low. Weirman knew that Kurz would have left those kinds of people in the council chamber so they could fight the assassins and buy him more time to flee.

Of course, it was more than possible that Kurz was lucky enough to escape with all his knights, but Weirman trusted his judgment and experience. They were the biggest reasons why he could reach his current position.

“Activate them!” Weirman roared when he sensed the intruders reach the exit.

The paladins scattered away from the tunnel. Those expensive magic traps contained Fire Boom, a Fourth Circle spell. Anyone caught in the center of the explosive quintet would be gravely injured.

An additional series of explosions then battered the air and sent pillars of fire soaring into the sky; Weirman was a very meticulous man and had instructed the paladins to bury ordinary explosives too.

As a result, the entire wall where the tunnel emerged came crumbling down. The paladins stopped and stared for a moment, awed by the incredible power.

When the explosions finally stopped, one of the paladins cautiously asked, “Do you think it’ll be okay?”

The paladins couldn’t help but worry that the emperor was actually inside the tunnel. The thought alone was so awful that it made them shiver with dread.

“...Don’t worry.” Weirman shook his head. “None of the presences I detected could have been His Majesty’s.”

“Ah...” The paladins heaved a collective sigh of relief. The dust hadn’t settled yet, so they still couldn’t see anything—however, even a Master’s Master grandfather wouldn’t be unscathed after that explosion.

Weirman peered into the swirling dust and saw something puzzling. The explosions had scattered embers all over the area, but Weirman discovered that they were suddenly massing at one point. It defied all logic and common sense. There had to be something supernatural behind it.

“Draw your weapons!” Weirman hastily shouted.

The paladins responded to Weirman’s command immediately, falling back on the thousands of hours of training they were famous for.

“Wh-What in the world...?”

The explosives that hadn’t been detonated the first time went off, clearing the clouds of dust that were blocking the paladins’ view.

For all their training, paladins weren’t prepared for this.

“A Fi-Fire God...?”

It was the only way to describe the man standing above the ruins of the wall, engulfed in fire.

“Are you okay?” the man asked.

“We’re fine!”

The paladins looked past the man to where the other voice came from—in the sky.

“Wh-When...?”

Two women were standing in the air. Weirman frowned. One of the women had to be either a mage or an elemental spirit mage.

‘That’s why her presence is weaker than the others. Which means that the other woman is...’

Weirman raised his guard. He’d expected that the explosions might not be enough to kill the enemies but he thought they would be able to at least inflict grave damage on them. Unfortunately, all of his meticulous preparations were for nothing because the enemies were a lot more skilled than he had predicted.

.

Weirman flinched as the man engulfed in fire slowly walked forward. His black hair and eyes, his impossibly handsome looks, the suffocating energy he exuded...

A gasp arose from the paladins.

“Th-The Martial God...?”

“J-Joshua Sanders! It’s Joshua Sanders!”

He was the last person Weirman and his men wanted to meet, not even in their dreams.

“...I see.”

Despite the nightmare situation, Weirman visibly relaxed.

“Calm down,” he said. “He isn’t Joshua Sanders.”

“Pardon? B-But he looks—”

“The Second Queen Consort of Avalon is a master artifact craftswoman. Avalon’s agents could easily disguise themselves as anyone—but it’s impossible to mimic the Martial God’s skill.” Weirman slowly pointed his sword at Kireua. “You may be able to fool others, but not me. Who are you?”

“Not bad.” Kireua rested his sword against his shoulder and grinned. “Well, it doesn’t change anything though.”

Weirman smiled back with confidence. “I realize why Duke Jook sent us here.”

There was nothing more frightening than an enemy he knew nothing about, but there was no reason to be scared of an enemy who revealed their identity.

“I can feel demonic power from you, so although I don’t know exactly which it is, I know you have the authority of a demon.”

“...So many people have said the same thing to me and I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hah. You’re just a boy who doesn’t even understand yourself. I can’t even take you seriously.” Weirman held up his sword and unleashed white flames. “It doesn’t matter if your authority is a demon king’s like the Ghost Sword. You’ll be no match to me anyway.”

“You’re pretty confident about yourself,” Kireua remarked as he unleashed his ebon flames in response, striking a stark contrast with Weirman’s.

“That’s because I’ve defeated the Ghost Sword.”

“What?” Kireua said, surprised.

Weirman smirked. “That isn’t all. Christian the White Lion ended up as a mess after he lost to me. Do you think a boy like you can defeat me?”

Kireua blankly examined Weirman for a moment and felt his fighting spirit surge within him.

“...You’re more interesting than I thought.”

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶