The Extra Wants To Live

At Hidan's command, the man in yellow cloth bowed his head respectfully, broke away from the line, and glided across the sand and gravel.

The attire, which tightly covered his body in yellow cloth, signified that he was one of the escort slaves who served the high-ranking nobles of Tumaria.

These slaves, known for their great power, traditionally were mute, either naturally or through forced silence, and only they could hold such important positions.

Carl silently watched as the man ran across the desert, then turned his attention to the reinforcements led by Hidan.

They stared at Carl, who had suddenly appeared, but they were in too much of a hurry to save Jihan to stop their march.

As the center of the long, stretched-out formation of the Tumari rebels reached the point where the Laurel Union infantry, led by Carl, lay in wait, Carl slowly drew his sword from his waist with his right hand.

*Sreung!*

The eerie sound of a well-maintained sword could only be heard by Carl.

Strangely enough, to the troops of the Tumarian rebels, it was just a small movement, a flash of something.

However, the moment they saw the blade rising up, dazzlingly cutting through the moonlight, all the soldiers of the Laurel Union knew exactly that the time had come.

"Turn around!"

"Wow!"

The moment their eyes were drawn to Carl, the infantry, who had been waiting, began to charge with a mighty shout.

"What…!"

"Get in line! Get in line!"

An unexpected surprise attack struck the rebels' exposed flank. Commanders scrambled to direct the panicked soldiers and protect the vulnerable side.

However, the most terrifying thing about an ambush wasn't just the attack itself but the chaos it sowed, making it hard to distinguish front from back.

"Eww!"

"Save me!"

Units composed of conscripts were attacked as they marched. Without a standing army or well-armored troops to hold the line, the situation quickly worsened.

The archers hesitated to retreat, and the conscripts, overwhelmed and unarmed, threw down their loads and scattered.

Thanks to this chaos, the Laurel Union successfully cut through their opponent's formation before the battle had even truly begun.

"Fill the gap! Quickly! If we get penetrated by the enemy like this, we're finished!"

Not only the mid-level commanders but also the nobles rode around on horseback, barking orders to their troops.

"Anyone who runs away will be killed! Don't run away, fight back! Our numbers are vastly greater!"

Commander Hidan, leaping from his palanquin, shouted orders as well. However, despite his brave words, his palanquin moved steadily toward the center, following the soldiers running frantically toward the middle of the formation.

Positioned relatively far forward, he would be exposed if he stayed put. Hidan knew that if he were captured or killed, morale would plummet, potentially leading to the battle's end.

Even as he moved, Hidan tried to assess the situation. It was unlikely that the enemy's surprise attack had come from only one direction.

"Guard the rear with cavalry!"

Hidan maintained a cool head despite the ambush, ensuring his rear guard was secure.

He reasoned that although the enemy's infantry were fewer in number, the well-organized formations of his own troops would still prevail in a direct infantry clash.

The confusion among his soldiers notwithstanding, the difference in numbers was simply too great. As long as the rear was protected, victory seemed within reach.

"Oh, it's Master!" Your journey continues with empire

But Hidan's orders were barely audible amidst the screams of the panicked soldiers.

Laurel Union infantry, led by Master Jaren, surged forward, their charge illuminated by the flash of his Mana Blade cutting through the night.

"Maheleeeeet!"

Upon seeing this, Hidan screamed someone's name at the top of his lungs. At that instant, one man sprang from the Tumarian ranks, rushing toward Jaren.

*Woohoo!*

Just like Jaren's Mana Blade, a dazzling flash of light appeared, cutting through the darkness. Jaren narrowed his eyes as he saw a woman charging at him, her spear wrapped in a Mana Blade. He knew that overcoming her wouldn't be easy.

Losing one Master from a Tumarian rebel force of over 10,000 was different from losing one from Carl's force of less than 3,000. Mahelet, the Master of the Tumarian rebels, charged straight toward Jaren, intent on tying him up.

But Jaren wasn't worried. Carl must have anticipated these disadvantages. A thorough man, Carl had likely foreseen this and gambled on victory nonetheless.

Jaren trusted Carl completely and swung his halberd without hesitation toward Mahelet.

*Booooooo!*

As Jaren's halberd and Mahelet's spear collided, the sound of tens of thousands of bees buzzing in frenzy echoed across the battlefield.

The two Mana Blades pushed against each other with all their might, canceling each other out violently. Both Jaren and Mahelet were thrown backward from the force of the collision, slightly pushed back.

'Mana is similar.'

Jaren quickly assessed Mahelet's level of mana manipulation. While the total amount was still unknown, her output was impressive.

Mahelet too must have realized this, as a faint smile appeared on his angular, strong face. Strength and agility were also comparable. Despite Mahelet's tall and strong physique for a woman, she was still smaller than Jaren.

Although a Master's abilities aren't limited by physical attributes, the fact that they were on equal footing meant that Mahelet's physical enhancements were superior.

For Mahelet, who had risen to become a Master in Tumari, where women's rights were weaker than in Hardion, being on par with Jaren was a source of pride.

"Mahelet."

Mahelet, now in her forties, introduced herself like a young warrior, proud of the name she had earned through her own efforts, devoid of any noble titles.

"Jaren."

Jaren introduced himself just as simply.

Since being destroyed by Carl, the title of 'Master Jaren' no longer held significance to him, leaving only his name.

"You're young," Mahelet said with a grin.

"I was lucky," Jaren replied lowly, his halberd at the ready. Mahelet's hair was streaked with white, and her face was lined with wrinkles, evidence of her harsh training.

Jaren refrained from commenting on her age, suspecting she was at least fifty. A Master in their early forties was considered young, after all.

"How humble," Mahelet remarked with a smile, aware that she looked older than her age. Without warning, she lunged with her spear.

*Boohoo!*

The spear tip was blocked by the halberd's blade. A harsh sound echoed across the field, followed by a small ticking noise. Once again, the two were thrown back by the Mana Blade's recoil.

The moment Jaren landed, he rushed toward Mahelet. Their Mana Blades canceled each other out, and the clash of the halberd and spear echoed like thunder.

*Wedge!*

*Kwaaaaang!*

Jaren charged forward, swinging his halberd wildly. Mahelet, standing her ground, met him head-on, her spear intercepting his strikes.

A tremendous roar filled the battlefield as Mahelet was lifted into the air by the sheer force of Jaren's assault.

The power of a Master was transcendent. Compared to their strength, a human's body weight, even fully armored, was insignificant.

Mahelet wasn't thrown because of a lack of skill; Jaren had simply done well to exploit this weakness. His body strained under the force of the attack, his arm twisting unnaturally as if it might tear apart.

Despite his superior abilities, even he felt the strain in his wrist. Without hesitation, Jaren took out a potion, opened it with his teeth, and drank it in one gulp while continuing his pursuit of Mahelet.

"Hmm!"

Mahelet, now airborne, glared at Jaren. Despite her stern appearance, she couldn't help but acknowledge his skill.

As Mahelet continued to fight, she thought of the Tumari rebels. If their Master were defeated, the ranks would collapse, leaving them unable to hold off the charging soldiers of Hardion.

Mahelet gritted her teeth as she landed lightly on her feet, her spear still humming with mana.

She had underestimated Jaren's ferocity, but this battle was far from over. Her soldiers were depending on her to hold the line. If she faltered, the entire Tumari rebel force would crumble like sand.

Jaren, not one to give his opponents a moment to breathe, pressed forward with relentless force. His halberd cleaved through the air, aiming for Mahelet's midsection.

Mahelet parried the blow with her spear, sparks flying as their mana-infused weapons clashed again.

"You fight like someone with nothing to lose," Mahelet said through gritted teeth as she deflected another brutal swing.

Jaren's face remained impassive, his focus razor-sharp. "Perhaps that's because I don't."

Their weapons locked again, the hum of mana swirling around them like a storm, crackling in the air.

The ground beneath them trembled from the sheer force of their battle. Each strike they exchanged sent shockwaves across the battlefield, causing nearby soldiers to hesitate, watching the spectacle in awe and terror.

But Mahelet couldn't afford to be impressed by Jaren's strength. She needed to end this quickly, or the advantage she had painstakingly built would slip away.

With a sharp pivot, she disengaged and lunged forward with her spear, aiming directly for Jaren's exposed side. The speed of her movement was breathtaking, even for a Master.

Jaren, however, anticipated the attack. He shifted his weight just in time, bringing his halberd down to block the thrust. But Mahelet was already spinning, her spear arcing around in a wide sweep aimed at Jaren's legs.

*Bam!*

The impact was fierce, and though Jaren managed to leap back just in time, the force of the strike sent him skidding backward in the sand. He dug his heels in, steadying himself, but Mahelet was relentless.

She pressed the attack, her spear a blur of motion, forcing Jaren to constantly defend.

Around them, the battle raged on, but neither of them could hear the screams of the dying or the clash of steel. The world had narrowed to just the two of them, locked in a deadly dance.

Jaren's grip on his halberd tightened. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever. Mahelet's agility was starting to wear him down, and though his strikes were powerful, she was beginning to adapt to his style. If this continued much longer, he would make a mistake, and she would capitalize on it.