Chapter 118 – The Crimson Wolf's Finishing Blow
Morning of the Third Day, Approaching Noon
The plain was now the stage for a clash that silenced thousands. Every strike between Fenrir Eisenwald and Baron Falkenhain rang like a bell of war. Steel roared, aura sparked, and two wills collided before the eyes of both armies.
To the east, the sun climbed higher, glinting on dented armor and stained blades. Behind the dueling barons, lines of infantry stood tense. Their spears were leveled, yet their focus had drifted—all eyes were locked on the center circle where two fates collided: the Crimson Wolf of Eisenwald against the Iron Bastion of the North.
Fenrir, sword firm in both hands, breathed in rhythm. Crimson aura flickered across his blade with each decisive movement. Falkenhain, greatsword planted into the soil for balance, drew ragged breaths, his silver-gray aura heavy but faltering.
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With a roar, Falkenhain hauled his massive weapon up. "You think decades of war can be toppled by a boy's flame?!"
He swung down with all his weight. Earth split open, mud spraying. Fenrir darted aside, aura flashing red as his counter bit into Falkenhain's shoulder. A fresh wound tore through steel and skin.
Eisenwald's soldiers erupted: "He cut him again!"
Fenrir's eyes narrowed. His stamina's fading… now is the moment to press forward.
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This time, Fenrir didn't retreat—he advanced. His blade struck in relentless rhythm, each swing sharper, faster, aimed at the weaknesses in Falkenhain's armor.
The baron staggered back. His boots carved deep grooves in the mud, his breaths grew harsher, and sweat poured beneath his helm.
"Impossible… a whelp like you—!"
Fenrir said nothing. His crimson aura flared with each collision, sparks scattering like embers.
On the enemy's side, whispers spread: "Is our baron… losing?"
On Eisenwald's, chants thundered: "Crimson Wolf! Crimson Wolf!"
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A slashing strike finally found purchase—Fenrir's blade cut across Falkenhain's thigh, blood gushing. The baron grunted, his knee buckling slightly.
Fenrir closed in, blade weaving like fire through the air. Each step was measured, each cut calculated. He was no longer defending—he was hunting.
"Enough!" Falkenhain bellowed, swinging wide. Fenrir slipped inside the arc, parried, and cut across the baron's chest. Armor split. Blood darkened the steel.
Cheers shook the battlefield. Eisenwald's morale soared while the enemy's cracked under the sight of their strongest man forced back.
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Now only one step away, Fenrir raised his blade. His voice was low, cutting through the noise:
"This battle… ends with you."
Falkenhain roared and lifted his sword high for one last desperate strike. But before it could fall, Fenrir surged forward, crimson aura blazing across his blade.
Slash!
His sword tore through Falkenhain's shoulder, driving deep into flesh and armor alike. The greatsword slipped from the baron's grip, crashing into the mud. Falkenhain fell to his knees, blood dripping from his side.
A frozen silence followed.
Then, like thunder, Eisenwald's ranks erupted: "Victory! The Crimson Wolf triumphs!"
The enemy faltered, fear plastered across their faces. Their iron bastion had fallen.
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Fenrir stood over his fallen foe, sword dripping. His gaze swept the field, cold, commanding.
"Eisenwald," he roared. "Forward!"
His men answered with a roar that rolled across the battlefield like a storm. The enemy recoiled, their formation bending.
The duel wasn't just a personal victory—it was a blow that shattered the enemy's spirit.
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[Status Panel – Fenrir Eisenwald]
Name: Fenrir Eisenwald
Title: Crimson Wolf of Eisenwald, Baron of Six Territories (Provisional)
Age: 18
Level: 17
EXP: 42,300 / 45,000
Aura: 210 → (−20 during duel, now 190)
Stamina: 220 → (−50 during duel, now 170)
Strength: 175
Cunning: 245
Charisma: 150
Mental Fortitude: 210
Skills:
[Aura Control Lv.4] – Refined aura manipulation.
[Swordsmanship Lv.4] – Skilled, adaptive sword technique.
[Leadership Lv.5] – +25% morale for troops under command.
[Tactical Instinct Lv.4] – High-level battlefield intuition.
[Passive – Legacy of Strategies] – Access to tactical knowledge from a past life.
Traits:
[Wounds That Shape] – Trauma of war permanently boosts Mental Fortitude.
[Lord of the Marsh] – +25% Cunning, +15% Strength in marsh terrain.
Condition: Minor wounds, stamina heavily drained.
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[Status Panel – Baron Falkenhain von Stahlmark]
Name: Baron Falkenhain von Stahlmark
Title: The Iron Wolf of the North
Age: 44
Level: 20
EXP: 58,000 / 60,000 → 0 (Defeated)
Aura: 260 → 0
Stamina: 280 → 0
Strength: 220
Cunning: 140
Charisma: 130
Mental Fortitude: 180
Skills:
[Greatsword Mastery Lv.5] – Heavy strikes of destructive force.
[Aura Control Lv.4] – Dense, forceful aura.
[Battlefield Intimidation Lv.4] – Reduces enemy morale within 30 meters.
Traits:
[Steel Resolve] – +20% Strength when morale is high.
Condition: Defeated in duel.
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