Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 249: The Fortress of Evil (2)

From the Denian Kingdom to the holy land of Kalosia, and even to the sacred ground of the elves, Ketal had always been the ones on the defensive. Holding the line, shielding the last sanctuaries of light from the advance of evil, was his role in previous battles. However, now, the tables had turned. For the first time in a long while, he was the one launching the attack. It was exhilarating, almost joyous, to feel the momentum shifting.

“We’ve tried everything we could think of to break through the fortress,” the Archbishop said, his voice grave, “but none of our efforts have succeeded. The walls are simply too strong. Here, let me show you.”

With a subtle gesture of his chin, the Archbishop signaled to the gathered mages of the Mage Tower. They sprang into action, loading a magical ballista, a siege weapon far more powerful than any Ketal had seen on the journey to the Deep Sea. The ballista was charged with runes and ancient enchantments, humming with destructive energy.

The weapon’s great bolt was drawn back, its magical tension crackling in the air. Then, with a thunderous report, it was released. The bolt shot through the sky with blinding speed and slammed against the fortress wall.

A tremendous explosion echoed out, shaking the earth beneath their feet. Dust billowed up, swirling through the air and momentarily hiding the fortress from view. When the haze cleared, everyone stared at the wall, searching for damage.

“Only a scratch,” the Mercenary King muttered. He frowned as he surveyed the result.

The magical ballista had barely left a faint scar upon the vast, obsidian wall. Even that shallow wound was already starting to heal itself, the stones knitting together under some dark magic.

“It’s no use,” the Archbishop said, frustration tightening his voice. “No matter how we attack from a distance, it’s impossible to break through those walls.”

To shatter them, they would have to bring overwhelming force right up close. Only by striking at point-blank range could they hope to breach the barrier. For that reason, they had brought with them even more powerful siege engines; magical battering rams infused with sacred spells. However, there was a problem.

“It’s nearly impossible to approach the wall in the first place,” the Archbishop explained, his tone laced with resignation.

Arrayed along the ramparts were hundreds of defensive weapons. There were cannons and strange, monstrous devices that resembled great magical guns. These were the handiwork of the Demon of Design, created to repel any who dared threaten the fortress. Between the weapons stood clusters of dark mages, their eyes burning with an unnatural glow.

The moment anyone moved within a certain distance, a barrage of destruction would rain down. Spells, explosives, boulders, and arrows fell like an unending storm. Even the Archbishop himself struggled to shield against such a bombardment.

Also, even if they somehow broke through, the ground beneath the fortress was swarming with monsters—hundreds, each one with the strength on par with Advanced warriors.. Their forces simply could not punch through such overwhelming strength.

“Within that zone,” the Archbishop said, offering a wan, rueful smile, “our power is severely diminished.”

Ordinarily, in this land, the holy would have an absolute advantage over evil. This was the Mortal Realm, the domain of the gods. Demons were outsiders here, always pushed back by the divine. However, this fortress was different.

Carbarax, the Demon of Design, had devoured the sacred power of the land, transforming it, corrupting it, and making it a sanctuary of evil. This was no longer a holy place; here, the divine held no sway. The fortress was impregnable.

“We’re at a complete standstill,” the Archbishop confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “We were just about to send out a call for reinforcements.”

However, that was no longer necessary. Now, new strength had arrived, warriors whose reputations inspired hope in all who saw them.

“I appreciate the explanation,” the Mercenary King said, flexing his arm and stepping forward. “But I prefer action to a hundred words. Let’s see what we can do.”

He glanced at Ketal, an unspoken challenge in his eyes.

“I’ll go first,” the Mercenary King declared. “You’ll follow after me.”

Ketal’s power was precious, perhaps irreplaceable. Even the highest-level Transcendents could not injure him, but still, the Mercenary King wanted to be the first to test the enemy’s defenses, just in case. Ketal grinned and nodded.

The Mercenary King took a deep, steadying breath, centering himself for what was to come. Then he sprinted forward, charging straight for the heart of the fortress’s cursed domain. As he crossed the boundary, the fortress responded instantly. Defensive weapons powered up, gears spinning and magic pulsing through their frames.

A roaring fusillade erupted. Cannonballs, boulders, and arrows streaked through the air in a deadly barrage. Each attack carried more force than the magical ballista had just demonstrated. They were fast, relentless.

Yet, the Mercenary King’s response was swift and almost effortless. Drawing on Myst, he accelerated his body to an astonishing speed. The world blurred around him as he left nothing but an afterimage behind, every attack missing by a hair’s breadth.

Kain, watching from behind, let out a gasp of admiration. “He’s so fast!”

Even for a highest-level Transcendent, the Mercenary King’s speed was nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye. The dark mages hurled bolts of darkness and flame into the fray, filling the air between the siege engines’ attacks with a deadly web of magic.

The Mercenary King dodged everything, twisting, leaping, and spinning out of danger as he closed the distance to the wall. Yet, the sheer density of attacks made it inevitable that not everything could be avoided.

Two shells flew directly at him, aimed with lethal precision. With a fluid motion, the Mercenary King drew his sword and swept it in a graceful arc. The steel met the shells, diverting them harmlessly aside.

“Impressive!” Ketal exclaimed, awe coloring his tone.

The Mercenary King had redirected the path of the shells with a single stroke. It was a masterful display of skill.

In a flash, he reached the base of the wall, where new enemies waited. The Advanced monsters guarding the foundation rose up and lunged to intercept him.

“Obstacles,” the Mercenary King remarked, his voice almost bored as he accelerated again.

He moved through the monsters at blinding speed. In a heartbeat, his sword flashed out. The bodies of the monsters were sliced to pieces, flesh and ichor scattering across the ground.

“Amazing...,” the Archbishop breathed, unable to conceal his admiration.

He, too, was a Transcendent—a man of formidable power throughout the continent. However, even he could never have reached the foot of that wall, not after all his years of training and battle. Yet the Mercenary King had done it on his first try.

So this is what it means to be a highest-level Transcendent... the Archbishop thought.

The Mercenary King tightened his grip on his sword and swung, aiming to shatter the wall itself.

The blade struck with a thunderous crash, gouging a deep crater into the stone. However, the wall held, unbroken. He would have to strike it at least five more times to break through. Scowling, he gathered more strength.

Just then, another shell shot down, aimed directly at him. The Mercenary King’s face darkened as he realized this attack was far faster, deadlier than any before. Contained within it was the destructive force that had slain the Saint of Lupesiana in a single blow.

There was no time to dodge. The Mercenary King reacted instantly, raising his sword to meet the attack.

Steel met magic in a cataclysmic collision. The impact sent the Mercenary King skidding back several meters. He’d blocked the attack, but the force had driven him far from the wall. He glared upward, searching for the source.

“So, you’ve deigned to show yourself,” he called, staring at the top of the wall.

A small, wizened old man looked down at him with eyes full of cunning.

“Mercenary King. Even I know your name among the living,” he said. It was Carbarax, the Demon of Design, and he let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “You are one of the most troublesome mortals. Among those who oppose us, you are the one with the power to interfere. You’re on my list of targets.”

“So, my reputation has reached the depths of Hell? I suppose I should be flattered,” the Mercenary King replied dryly, narrowing his eyes. “What are you scheming here? Why lock yourself in this fortress? What are you waiting for?”

Carbarax’s laughter echoed down. “There’s nothing for the likes of you to know. If you’re so desperate, try breaking through by force.”

A swarm of weapons materialized above Carbarax’s head. All at once, they fired down upon the Mercenary King. He swept his sword in wide, blinding arcs, deflecting the attacks, but the weight of each blow was immense. The force traveled down his blade, threatening to shatter his bones.

Cannonballs, arrows, and beams of dark energy rained down. The Mercenary King dodged as best he could, but the assault was unrelenting. Each projectile was infused with Carbarax’s own power; even a single hit could prove devastating. The entire battlefield was filled with danger. There was nowhere to dodge, no place to hide. The Mercenary King clicked his tongue in frustration.

Even though they were both highest-level Transcendents, this was Carbarax’s battlefield, and the odds were completely stacked against him. Ultimately, the Mercenary King was forced to leap away and retreat from the zone of death.

“Apologies. I wasn’t able to accomplish much,” he said as he returned.

“No, what you did was more than enough,” the Archbishop replied quickly, shaking his head. Forcing Carbarax to reveal himself was an impressive feat for a first attempt. “If even you can only be held back by Carbarax himself, then he must truly be formidable.”

The Mercenary King nodded. “That’s how it is. But... If that demon is out in the open, even I can’t break through.”

It was said that even a group of the highest-level Transcendents couldn’t pierce Carbarax’s fortress once all preparations were complete. Now, the reason was obvious—the sheer density and destructive power of the attacks exceeded all expectations.

However, that also meant something else: someone stronger could break through.

“Ketal. It’s up to you now,” the Mercenary King said.

“So, it’s finally my turn?” Ketal said, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

***

Carbarax watched from the top of the wall, a low chuckle bubbling from his lips.

“You’ll never break through my fortress,” he declared. He was well aware that there were mortals powerful enough to threaten his defenses, but none of them could spare the time to intervene now. By the Demon King’s command, Carbarax had been granted this window of opportunity.

“All you can do is stand by and watch as my flower blooms. Do your best to break through, if you must,” he taunted, mocking those assembled below.

Then his eyes fell upon a lone barbarian stepping forward. At first, Carbarax looked puzzled, but soon, his expression twisted in shock and growing horror.

“No, it can’t be!”

“Hm,” Ketal murmured as he set foot into the corrupted territory.

Instantly, the fortress’s weapons powered up, targeting him with lethal precision. The same automated defenses that had battered the Mercenary King now turned their focus to Ketal.

A deluge of shells, boulders, and arrows descended upon him. The Mercenary King had avoided them all, dodging with incredible skill. However, Ketal did not bother to dodge. The barrage slammed directly into his body.

A deafening explosion shook the battlefield, but Ketal didn’t even flinch. He was not pushed back; he didn’t even pause in his stride. Every attack struck him, but he simply walked forward, unhurried and calm, as though he were taking a stroll.

“What is happening?” shouted one of the dark mages.

“This is insane!” another screamed.

The dark mages threw everything they had at him—thunder, flame, and ice erupted in a frenzied storm. Yet none of it so much as slowed Ketal’s advance.

He never broke stride. Each desperate, all-out attack failed to leave even a scratch. He walked toward the wall at the same leisurely pace as before.

“Unbelievable!”

“Such power...!”

Those watching from behind stared, their faces frozen in disbelief.

“Rise!” Carbarax shouted, panic leaking into his voice at last. He unleashed his power, summoning more and more weapons.

Another deadly barrage was launched, shells flying faster than even the Mercenary King could dodge, each one carrying crushing force. Ketal simply lifted his hand. Casually, as if he were flicking away a nuisance, he curled his fingers together and flicked the first shell.

The shell shattered on impact, disintegrating into hundreds of fragments that scattered across the battlefield. The strength in Ketal’s fingers was simply too much for the shell to withstand. Carbarax’s entire barrage collapsed under the force of that single flick. The broken projectiles flew wild, some of them smashing into the wall and punching neat holes through the stone. Carbarax could only stare, his jaw hanging open.

In no time at all, Ketal arrived at the base of the wall. The monsters that had gathered there to defend the fortress now rushed at him, but their faces were filled with terror.

Ketal did not stop. He simply swung his arm in a broad sweep as he moved forward. That alone was enough. The monsters were torn to shreds, their bodies ripped apart as if they were nothing more than paper.

A hush fell over the spectators, their earlier awe now turned to silent horror. They were not growing used to Ketal’s power—if anything, the shock was deepening. It was as if his strength made all their efforts meaningless. They could not comprehend the vastness of the gap that separated them from him.

Only the Mercenary King seemed to take it in stride. However, even he wore a wry, rueful smile.

“I knew it, but the gap really is that big,” he murmured. It was a difference that felt insurmountable.

Ketal now stood directly in front of the wall.

“It certainly looks sturdy,” he remarked, his eyes shining with anticipation.

How tough could it really be? Ketal thought as he lifted his fist, eager to find out.

Carbarax shrieked from above, finally losing his composure. “Wait! Stop!”

“No,” Ketal replied simply, swinging his fist.

The blow landed with a thunderclap. This wall, constructed from the power of the holy land, reinforced by all the magic Carbarax could muster, was said to be unbreakable. Even a legion of mages firing on it would not be able to bring it down. Not even a group of the highest-level Transcendents could breach it with their combined might.

Yet, with a single strike, the wall shattered. Stone exploded outward, and the dark mages who had stood atop it screamed as they plummeted. Weapons and siege engines were swallowed by the collapsing debris.

Those who watched could not believe their eyes. The wall that had tormented them for days, the defense they had believed to be absolute, was reduced to ruins in an instant.

“It really was tough,” Ketal said, shaking out his fist with a satisfied smile, standing alone in the stunned silence.