I couldn’t really blame him for the reaction.
The real shock wasn’t that I’d defeated the Ogre Emperor. No, that was implausible enough, but the truly impossible part, the thing that left the knight commander stammering as if his brain had short-circuited, was what didn’t happen afterward.
“Why… isn’t he healing?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his voice paper-thin with disbelief.
And to be fair, it was a damn good question.
The Ogre Emperor was a monster, infamous for his regeneration and demonic in every sense of the word. You could slice off one arm, or even both, and he’d regrow them within sixty seconds, like it was a minor inconvenience. That was just how he worked. So yes, I’d landed a solid hit—deadly, even—but it wasn’t the kind of clean bifurcation that would kill him in an instant. Normally, his body would’ve kicked into full self-repair mode by now, dragging him back from the brink like it always did. He might’ve still been staggering, but he wouldn’t be down.
But this time, nothing. No twitch. No stirring. No regeneration. He lay there like a mountain of raw meat, unmoving and silent.
Why? Because I didn’t let him.
The blade I’d used—Excalibur, the God-Slaying Relic—was no ordinary weapon. It bore a divine attribute designed specifically to erase entities on an astral level. It didn’t just tear through flesh and bone; it bypassed the physical entirely and struck at the core of a being—their spiritual essence. Even a monster like the Ogre Emperor couldn’t regenerate from that. You don’t grow back something that no longer exists.
My eyes swept across the battlefield. All around me, the Ogre Generals who had, moments ago, exuded nothing but bloodlust were now in full retreat. The moment their Emperor dropped, they broke like dominoes, fleeing in every direction. They knew what was coming if they stayed.
But not everyone was running. Twelve figures remained. The Ogre Kings.
And unlike the Generals, these ones weren’t looking to escape. They moved with slow steps, surrounding me with the grim patience of predators confident in their power. Their aura pressed in like a closing vise, thick with intent. They wanted to finish what their Emperor had started.
Unfortunately for them, I had no intention of sticking around.
I still had other gates to secure, other battlefronts to support. I didn’t have the luxury of letting this drag out.
“Alright then. Time for a quick wipe,” I muttered under my breath, more to steel myself than anything else, a sharp grin curling at the corner of my mouth.
From beneath my cloak, I drew a small blade—fifteen centimeters of polished, unassuming steel—and with a practiced flick of my wrist, sent it spinning through the air toward the nearest King. On the surface, it was just a throwing knife, light and underpowered. Almost laughably underwhelming.
But in the right hands? It was more than enough.
The moment I let the first knife fly, my hand dipped back into the sheath-lined interior of my cloak. Another blade came free with a whisper of steel. I didn’t miss a beat. Second throw, clean release.
A dull thud rang out as the first Ogre King collapsed. A moment later, the second followed, crashing to the ground like a felled tree.
I didn’t slow down. Third knife. Fourth. Each one left my fingers in a perfect arc, every throw a dead-center strike. Tonight’s ace pitcher was on fire—no wild balls, no wasted effort. Every single blade nailed its mark straight in the vitals.
Thwack. Thud. Another one down. And another.
“Tch.” A quiet click of my tongue slipped out as I watched the ninth target stagger, still breathing. I’d aimed for the heart, and it should’ve been a kill shot, but the blade drifted a few centimeters left, embedding itself in the lung instead. Not fatal. Not instantly, anyway.
I sighed, flicked another knife free, and corrected the oversight. Three more blades followed in quick succession.
Total time: exactly three seconds.
Twelve Ogre Kings. Thirteen knives.
I didn’t quite pull off a perfect game, since I missed the one-shot kill by a hair, but it was still a clean shutout. A mercy rule win. More than enough to earn a passing grade.
I gave a short, satisfied nod, just in time to hear the knight commander sputtering behind me.
“Wh-Wh-What? The Ogre Kings… They’re just… dying… like garbage… from throwing knives?! Wait, what?! The Ogre Kings?! Garbage?! What? How?!”
His voice rose several octaves with each word, eyes flicking wildly between the fallen bodies and the blades sticking from their corpses. I didn’t turn around. Didn’t need to.
Not that I blamed him. From the perspective of a regular soldier, watching a dozen towering monsters drop like puppets with their strings cut, felled by nothing more than a handful of knives, had to be a disturbing sight.
Still. I had just taken down the Ogre Emperor. This was nothing by comparison.
I pushed his disbelief aside and refocused, mentally organizing the battlefield. North and south seemed clear. West, handled. That was my side.
Which left just one problem.
“Looks like it’s time to deal with the troublemakers,” I muttered.
I turned east and broke into a sprint, cloak billowing behind me. According to reconnaissance, the eastern sector, where the instructors and students from the Magic Academy had been deployed, hadn’t yet encountered the ogres.
Yet.
The eastern and western gates were connected by a single, straight avenue cutting through the heart of the city, roughly five kilometers from end to end. At full speed, I could cross that distance in under thirty seconds without breaking a sweat.
But blitzing through the center of town at near-sonic velocity? Way too conspicuous.
And more importantly, impossible. The streets were packed with civilians, and weaving through that many bodies didn’t exactly allow for top speed.
“Ugh, this is so damn frustrating!” I muttered, dodging left and right through the crowd in a brisk zigzag. My boots barely touched the ground as I threaded between startled merchants, panicked pedestrians, and oblivious passersby.
Then I heard a sharp, female scream. About ten meters ahead, just off my right flank.
A beat later, the panic rippled outward like a shockwave. Screams multiplied. The crowd around the source scattered in every direction, fleeing like cockroaches under torchlight.
Instinct took over. I veered toward the source, every nerve on high alert. Then, I saw it. And for a moment, even I was speechless.
The buildings lining this boulevard were equipped with sewer lines fed by the city’s riverways. A practical bit of infrastructure that had just turned into a nightmare.
From the open mouth of a manhole, thick, muscular ogres with crimson skin were pouring into the streets in a steady stream.
I’d only been scanning above ground this whole time. Shit.
I immediately pushed a secondary scan underground. The result made me click my tongue in irritation.
“Damn it! Some fortress city this is… They’re pouring in from the sewers like it’s a goddamn open door!”
Just ahead of me, an elderly woman tripped and fell. One of the ogres lunged, fist cocked back to crush her like a bug.
My hand moved before I even finished the thought.
One knife. One throw. One kill.
The ogre dropped.
But I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me. What now?
Based on the scan, there were no Ogre Generals or Kings in this sewer-borne strike team. Just the low-tier brutes. Still, for unarmed civilians, that didn’t matter. These things were more than enough to leave a street full of corpses in their wake.
As I weighed my options, more ogres began to claw their way out of the manholes in an endless stream.
I turned my gaze toward the eastern gate, my jaw tight.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” I muttered, voice low and bitter. “Clean this mess up now or ignore the casualties and head straight for Koharu? There’s only one of me.”
The setting shifted. East gate.
“Ahhh! Ahhh! I-It’s the O-Ogre Emperor! The Ogre Emperooor!”
“F-Father! This is why I begged you not to send me to this cursed academy!”
“P-Please! Someone, help! Arghhh!”
“Instructor?! What do we do?! What are we supposed to do?!”
“R-Retreat! Everyone, fall back! Instructors, prioritize evacuation of the noble heirs, protect the scholarship class, and get them out! The rest of you, fend for yourselves! The general class is on its own!”
“Gah! Nooo!”
There was no battle. No resistance.
The mere arrival of the Ogre Emperor was enough.
With that alone, the will to fight drained from every student, every instructor.