The Immortal Genius Spearman

This was the first Imperial commander he’d encountered since his rebirth.

The moment he saw the emblem etched on the armor, a surge of rage threatened to consume him.

Pakilonte, startled, looked at Damian.

‘W-what kind of look is that…?’

Had he met this man before? Had they crossed swords in the past?

Pakilonte examined Damian’s armor and recognized it as belonging to the Baroque Kingdom.

But no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall ever having connections with the Baroque forces.

So why did this young man’s eyes burn with the fury of a sworn enemy?

If looks could kill, they would be like this, he thought.

Pakilonte matched Damian’s bloodlust with his own eyes narrowing.

“I am Pakilonte, a commander of the Dekartelia Empire. What is your name?”

“Pakilonte?”

Damian furrowed his brows.

He hadn’t heard of this name before.

Which meant…

‘He’s not someone particularly notable.’

Still, it didn’t mean he could underestimate him.

Anyone who could command a large force in the fiercely competitive Empire was not to be taken lightly.

“…Hmph.”

Damian raised his spear, channeling his magic. Pakilonte’s eyes twitched at the sight.

“For someone so young, you have impressive control over your magic, hehe.”

Pakilonte chuckled, feeling the intimidating aura radiating from Damian.

It was certainly threatening.

“To think you’d dare challenge me, Pakilonte!”

Pakilonte swung his mace at Damian.

Whoosh!

The mace, with a head at least three to four times the size of a human skull, hurtled towards Damian.

But before Pakilonte could fully swing it—

Swish.

Damian’s spear moved fluidly, like water.

Clang!

The spear deftly struck the side of the mace, altering its course.

Bang!

Pakilonte stumbled as the force of his own swing threw him off balance.

The mace smashed into the ground next to where Damian stood, leaving Pakilonte scowling in frustration.

In that moment, his side—opposite to the mace—was left wide open.

“Y-you bastard!”

Swish!

Damian’s spear darted toward the exposed gap.

Pakilonte quickly raised his shield, barely blocking the spear.

Bam!

The impact pushed Pakilonte backward, his face twisted in pain.

Damian, however, was more surprised than angry.

‘Incredible reflexes.’

For someone with such a massive body to have reflexes that fast…

Damian had aimed to pierce Pakilonte’s side and shatter a few ribs.

But Pakilonte had raised his shield in the blink of an eye, blocking the attack.

‘Even a pig like this proves why Imperial commanders are a cut above.’

Damian realized he had been overconfident.

Although he had attacked with full force, it wasn’t enough.

‘…This won’t be as easy as I thought.’

His mistake was thinking he could defeat an Imperial commander with a single blow.

Gripping his spear tighter, Damian prepared himself.

At that moment, several Imperial soldiers charged at Damian from Pakilonte’s side.

“How dare you challenge Pakilonte!”

“Baroque scum!”

To these prideful Imperial soldiers, even the Baroque Kingdom seemed beneath them.

But those standing here were no ordinary soldiers.

“What did you say, you grunts?”

“Crazy bastards, you dare insult our commander?”

Three Caion soldiers suddenly flanked Damian, dispatching the Imperial soldiers swiftly.

In an instant, they killed five soldiers and took their positions beside Damian, swords drawn.

Their menacing presence spoke volumes.

Each of them was an elite, far surpassing ordinary soldiers.

Pakilonte’s eyes wavered at the sight.

‘Where did these guys come from…?’

Even just watching their movements, it was clear they were not ordinary.

They moved like well-trained elite troops.

Pakilonte’s expression darkened.

The appearance of such soldiers could only mean one thing.

‘They’ve been preparing for this all along?’

There was no other explanation for a unit of elite soldiers appearing so suddenly.

And their fighting style…

‘They aren’t the usual knights.’

If they were a knight order, they would have their emblem displayed proudly.

Pakilonte gripped his mace tighter.

Whatever the opponent, he could always beat the answers out of them.

“Don’t think you’ll die easily. I have a lot to find out from you.”

“I’ll just kill you, so stick your neck out.”

“You young brat, always have something to say!”

“You pig, trying to speak like a man!”

Whoosh!

Swish!

Mace and spear lunged toward each other.

Pakilonte swung his mace violently, determined to shatter Damian’s spear.

The mace alone must have weighed over twenty kilograms; no flimsy spear could withstand that.

But as Pakilonte’s mace swung toward the spear—

Whoosh!

“Huh?”

Damian lightly twisted his spear to the side, avoiding the attack effortlessly.

Pakilonte’s momentum caused him to lose his balance, his body twisting.

But the Imperial commander quickly reversed his swing, bringing the mace around again.

His sheer strength was undeniable; his power surpassed normal limits.

However—

Slash!

“Gah!”

Damian sidestepped Pakilonte’s attack and struck the back of his calf with his spear, cutting deep.

With a deep wound, blood flowed from the side of Pakilonte’s right calf.

“You bastard!”

Pakilonte took a few steps forward and swung his mace again. The movements were simple, but each swing was as deadly as a finishing blow. From Damian’s perspective, even if he dodged ten times and succeeded in attacking, getting hit just once would mean the end.

‘Brutal.’

And that was why it was terrifying.

Pakilonte’s battle pattern focused solely on advancing forward, with no regard for anything else, aiming to land just one hit.

For a moment, Damian’s eyes caught the scars on Pakilonte’s body.

Numerous scars adorned his arms and legs—proof that he had fought ignoring his opponents’ attacks until now. That also explained why his body had grown so massive.

“Ha, so you’ve covered your vital spots with fat, huh?”

Damian, retreating, let out a chuckle, but Pakilonte swiftly closed the distance, swinging his mace.

Bang!

“Let’s see how long you can laugh! Hyaaah!”

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Damian twisted his body, dodging the mace as it swung down toward his head. It was only thanks to Damian’s skills that he was able to evade those strikes.

‘To swing such a heavy mace that quickly.’

There was no denying the abnormal ferocity of Pakilonte’s assault. Yet, his reliance on sheer power left no room for finesse, which was his downfall.

“Why won’t you just get hit!” Pakilonte roared.

Damian’s eyes turned cold.

‘Your overwhelming strength is your greatest weakness right now.’

Overconfidence in his own strength. Pakilonte’s power was his pride, so he had never thought of changing his approach. If he could just ease off his force and vary the mace’s trajectory midway, he would be far more formidable.

‘Though even then, it wouldn’t be enough.’

To Damian, Pakilonte’s attacks were akin to a clear warning of where the next strike would land.

—Next, it’s the left shoulder!

—Now the right thigh!

—Going to slam down on the head, then uppercut to the chin!

See, Pakilonte practically announced his every move.

His gaze, the positioning of his feet, and the angle of his shoulders told Damian everything he needed to know. The problem was that once Pakilonte committed to a target, he wouldn’t alter his strike.

Whoosh! Crash!

Pakilonte’s mace cut through the air and smashed into the broken catapult.

The already shattered catapult splintered into even smaller pieces and collapsed entirely.

“Get back! It’s collapsing!”

“The catapult is falling!”

The massive siege weapon toppled, crushing the Imperial soldiers beneath it.

As four or five soldiers were buried and killed, Pakilonte’s eyes went wild with fury.

“You rat! You damned vermin!”

Half-crazed, he raised his mace high, gripping it with both hands.

“…Stay focused. This is a battlefield,” Damian muttered under his breath.

And with that, his spear shot toward Pakilonte’s body like lightning.

Squelch! Squelch! Squelch! Stab!

“Guaaaaah!”

“Oh, so you’re still a man, huh?”

Pakilonte, who barely flinched when stabbed in the side, thigh, or belly, now convulsed and shook at Damian’s final strike.

The sight made the Caion soldiers watch wrinkle their brows.

“Ugh!”

“Damn!”

Even though they weren’t the ones being attacked, they reflexively crossed their legs and winced.

“D-Damian, sir…!”

Even Dianal glanced at Pakilonte with pity as he called out to Damian.

But Damian paid no mind and twisted his spear.

“Aaaaagh!”

Damian’s final strike had targeted one spot.

Pakilonte’s groin.

“You’re too fat to use it anyway.”

Damian remarked dryly, pulling out his spear.

Blood dripped from the tip, and with a thud, Pakilonte’s massive frame collapsed to his knees.

“Y-You cowardly… bastard…!”

“Calling someone cowardly on the battlefield? Aren’t you a bit too sentimental?”

Even with armor protecting his vital spots, Pakilonte had worn groin protection. Against an ordinary soldier, the protection, made of thick steel, would have easily deflected the attack.

Damian glanced at the fallen steel plate on the ground.

It was a rather thick slab of iron.

But that was beside the point.

“Don’t feel too wronged. I’m going to send all you Imperial bastards to hell anyway.”

“You… damn…!”

Pakilonte, bloodshot eyes blazing, growled as he sat on the ground.

There was no way someone as young as Damian could defeat him, an Imperial commander!

“Gaaahhhh!”

In a last-ditch effort, Pakilonte tried to rise, but—

Slash!

Damian’s spear moved smoothly and pierced his throat.

Stab!

“…Ugh!”

Pakilonte’s body convulsed as blood gushed from the wound.

The beast-like endurance of the man was undeniable.

Spurt!

Blood spattered across the ground, and the surrounding Imperial soldiers stared at Damian in disbelief.

Despite his nasty temperament, Pakilonte had been one of the top commanders in the Empire, renowned for his monstrous strength. His incredible, inhuman power was no secret.

Now, the mace he wielded so fiercely lay clean and bloodless on the ground.

The Imperial soldiers were visibly shaken, their expressions turning hopeless as they stared at Damian.

They looked ready to surrender at any moment.

But—

“Caion Battalion, hear me!”

Step.

Damian raised his spear, pointing at the Imperial soldiers in their black armor.

“We do not take Imperial soldiers as prisoners.”

Damian’s voice was firm and resolute.

“Kill them all.”

Images of his fallen comrades crushed by the Empire’s advance flashed through Damian’s mind. The Empire never took prisoners; they only pushed forward, leaving death in their wake.

Grit.

Damian’s eyes burned with determination.

‘This is just the beginning.’

Blood must be repaid in blood.

‘I will make them pay.’

At Damian’s command, the Caion battalion charged toward the Imperial soldiers, launching a ruthless assault.