Chapter 112 - Great Northern War (8)

Chapter 112 - Great Northern War (8)

In the darkness, something fluttered. His past days fluttered by.

From that time onwards, which could be called the start.

‘You must protect your little sister.’

‘A brother and sister should have a closer relationship with each other than that with their parents. You have to depend on each other until you die. It is the deepest family connection. So...’

‘You must protect Yiyu.’

‘I believe in you.’

His father’s voice, which could no longer be heard, passed through his ears. From then on, his sister had always remained a small child, clutching onto his clothing from behind him.

Jung Yiyu, she spoke. He remembered when she hung onto his every word as a child.

'I will leave it to you.’

'You’ll be an adult soon.’

Who said that? Was it one of his relatives whom he didn’t see anymore? It was his uncle who couldn’t take Yiyu, his aunt who demanded money for Yiyu’s living expenses.

‘Your mission.’

‘Defend it.’

'Even if you have to sacrifice your life.’

After joining the special forces, Ian’s first mission was to protect a civilian on the battlefield. The civilian’s identity was still unknown. He just remembered that the person didn’t fit the battlefield. The eyes from back then gazed at him with a glassy look. His body trembled in fear and he could only rely on Ian. He embraced Ian and cried while thanking him.

‘Please, Ian.’

'Defend it, Raven.’


It had always been like this. Ian, Raven, and then Crockta. People were always staring at him. Those countless gazes. No one would think it was good the moment he collapsed.

‘Crockta.’ Someone called him, ‘Crockta.’

He raised his gaze. There were eyes staring at him in the darkness.


He knew this face. He was no longer a person.


He laughed and then pointed behind him. The darkness lifted and the landscape of Chesswood was unfolded. The shattered villages were being rebuilt. Ingram was visible. He moved with the villagers, and with the uers as well. NPCs, no, residents of Elder Lord and the users of Earth were raising the village together.

Blackmore gave a thumbs up before disappearing.

It became dark again. Soon, a rock appeared. Someone had carved letters on them. A familiar phrase.

[A warrior doesn’t attack unarmed people.]

It was Arnin’s landscape. He was looking at Enyanis who previously gave him citizenship. Now he was the mayor. He was reading a letter. The sender was Derek. He read the letter then tore it up. He threw it in the trash. Then he spat on it. Enyanis got up and looked out the window.

He smiled as he looked at the beautiful landscape of Arnin. Then he turned and looked at something hanging on the wall of the office. It was a uniform. The uniform of those protecting the Arnin Plains. On top of it was Crockta’s name. Enyanis looked at it and nodded.

The landscape blurred. The places of his adventures appeared before passing by. At the end, Crockta could see him. An unforgettable face.



Behind him stood the orc warriors. Where did they go after they died? Did death really erase everything? Or.. Lenox raised his axe without speaking.

Crockta’s eyes widened. Lenox wielded his axe. The axe slammed into Crockta.




Crockta opened his eyes.

Calmahart the great chieftain’s face was in front of him. His face was filled with surprise. He gave more strength to his hands. He was choking Crockta’s neck with a tremendous force. The big sword stuck in his abdomen didn’t budge.

Did Crockta have a short dream for a moment? Just what did he see?

Crockta gathered all the strength in his body and kicked the handle of Ogre Slayer. The moment that the greatsword shook.


Calmahart bled from the mouth as his grip weakened. Crockta removed the loosened hand and rolled to the floor. Blood rose to his face again. He stayed on the floor for a moment. Then he raised his head.

Calmahart was pulling out Ogre Slayer. Crockta tackled Calmahart before the sword could be fully pulled out. Calmahart and the sword fell tangled together. Crockta got on top of Calmahart. He pulled out Ogre Slayer completely.

He was about to thrust the sword down.


Calmahart’s fist rose and hit Crockta on the chin. He recovered his mind and gripped the handle of Ogre Slayer tightly.


The punches continued. Ogre Slayer tried to target Calmahart but the ensuing punches kept interrupting. It was difficult to use the greatsword in this situation.


Crockta put Ogre Slayer away and swung his fist. One of Calmahart’s teeth broke. Crockta’s fist headed downwards without stopping. Calmahart also thwarted his attack. The two punched at each other.

Calmahart’s arm was long enough to stop Crockta’s attack, but Crockta’s punch kept hitting the same spot. Their faces were covered with blood. But the moment that Crockta was about to raise a fist again,


Calmahart’s forehead shone. Then a huge force pushed at Crockta. Crockta rolled across the ground.

"Kukuku...this was nice.” Calmahart got up. His big body cast a shadow on Crockta. His eyes were red. “But now your tricks will end.”

A red aura covered Calmahart’s body. His body swelled even more. Now he was a monster, not an orc. Every time he walked, the ground shook.

Crockta realized that something was different. He lifted Ogre Slayer. Calmahart swung his fists without using a weapon. Crockta wielded the greatsword. The fist hit the sword. And it was Crockta who was thrown back. As the fist struck Ogre Slayer, a tremendous shock wave occurred.

Crockta was thrown out of the tent. Blood rose in his mouth.


Crockta coughed up blood. Calmahart walked out. His red eyes burned in the darkness of the night.

“The entertainment was sufficient. Now you will die.” He laughed. “Crockta.”

Then he raised his fist up to the sky. He joined both hands together and made them look like a hammer. Then he brought it down towards Crockta.

If this hit, he would die. Crockta sensed it. Yes, blocking it might also kill him. He needed to avoid it. His instincts screamed at him. Crockta squeezed out all the strength in his body and rushed away.

The fist hit the floor. The ground convulsed. It was an incredible force. The red energy in Calmahart’s body was boiling like a haze. Crockta realized that it was the source of Calmahart’s power. He wasn’t in a normal state.

The situation had been so urgent that he couldn’t see it clearly, but there was apparently an apostle mark on his forehead, similar to Zelkian’s. Their concerns were right. He could borrow the power of a god.

Calmahart ran up to Crockta, who turned around and ran. He was out of the range of the silence area that he had set up. The chase between them attracted the orcs’ attention. Orcs started to appear one after another.

They screamed as they discovered Calmahart chasing Crockta.


"Great chieftain!”

“The enemy!”

The orcs grabbed their weapons. Crockta swung Ogre Slayer without hesitation. The screams of the soldiers rang out. Calmahart chased Crockta without caring about the well-being of his soldiers. The orcs were blown away by his movements. The orcs in front of his fists were instantly killed.

“Where are you running to? Weak bastard! Come here!”

Calmahart’s voice was distorted like a demon. The bodies of orcs were strewn around the area where he passed. He was a mad monster.

Crockta looked at the moon. It wasn’t midnight yet. Crockta rushed towards the army of orcs to buy some time.

“You can’t get away!”

One of the warriors interrupted him. Crockta swung his greatsword, but the warrior also wielded his axe and blocked Crockta’s attack. Calmahart was running from behind. Crockta continued to attack in a hurry, but the warrior calmly blocked. It was amazing since the warrior’s goal was buying time. Crockta’s eyebrows twitched.


The blade moved vertically. The warrior raised his axe, but Crocta’s sword slammed into him before he could. He was split in half.

Then Crockta ran again. Calmahart narrowed the distance. Something was flying behind him.


Crockta rolled on the ground as he received a shock in his back. It was the body of the orc he just killed. His blood and internal organs poured down on Crockta. There was an awful smell.

Crockta got up. Calmahart’s fist flew. He rolled to avoid it. The shadow of Calmahart grew bigger.


A monstrous guy.

Crockta grinned. Calmahart and the other orcs surrounded him. He was completely surrounded. In a situation where he couldn’t escape, he confronted Calmahart alone. He held Ogre Slayer. He didn’t think he would win, but he wasn’t going to avoid a fight.

Calmahart smiled as he looked down at Crockta. Then he wielded his fist like a thunderbolt.

The greatsword blocked it but there was a shock wave. It was an absurd physical strength. Calmahart’s other hand aimed towards Crockta’s head. Outside his field of view, a giant fist made a circular trajectory.

If this hit, his head would burst. But his body was floating in the air. Ogre Slayer was on the other side of that fist. It was an attack he couldn't avoid or block. Shortly thereafter, the presence of the fist flying towards his head could be felt. Death was around the corner. This feeling caused the sensations on his body to sharpen.

The world slowed. It slowed down again. The fist flying towards him. The eyes of the orcs hoping for his death. The moonlight shining down from the sky and the wind. Everything was felt.

It was all pointing to his death. Just like a pebble falling from the sky, Calmahart’s fist would cause his head to explode. It couldn’t be avoided.

And Crockta.



The world's balance was reversed.


At that moment, Calmahart’s eyes widened. Ogre Slayer. It moved and blocked his fist. The blade moved and met Calmahart’s fist. Blood vessels burst.


Calmahart grabbed his fist.

Crockta couldn’t believe what he had just done. It was clearly impossible to defend. In addition, Ogre Slayer had sliced through Calmahart’s skin, which was as hard as armor. It was a miracle beyond cause and effect.

‘But beyond that, there is an area where you can wield the world.’

‘The people who managed to do it were called Heroes.’

That was it. Crockta’s movements had temporarily surpassed the Pinnacle. Calmahart was still holding his hand. His eyes were filled with rage. Crockta turned and jumped into the orcs surrounding him.

“Stop him!”

“Stop him!"

The orcs shouted, but they were split in half every time Crockta’s Ogre Slayer was swung. Crockta sprang from the ground and jumped over them.

The new moon was above his head. It was midnight. At that moment, the pumpkin carriage hovered above his head. Crockta quickly climbed onto the pumpkin carriage. Crockta’s appearance gradually blurred.


Soon after, he disappeared. Nothing remained but the air.

Calmahart grit his teeth and roared madly towards Crockta.


It was a fierce cry that could tear through metal.

Calmahart shouted, “Right now! March───! Kill everyone──────!”

He stomped his feet. The earth shook. His eyes were red. The mark on his head was also tinged red. Only a massacre of blood could relieve his anger.

The real war began.

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