First Light of a New Age

Chapter 120: The Captain General

At the heart of the Rump estate, a newcomer had arrived and stepped into the intense silence between both sides. 

Most of the humans were expecting something like a Men of Stone or an Archangel Unit to arrive. But as their gazes locked onto the figure before them, they were confused. He didn’t resemble any Archangel they had seen before.

He was… more human. 

The man appeared to be in his forties, dressed in a black-field uniform beneath a long trench coat, and he stood taller and muscular than any ordinary man. His pale skin contrasted sharply with the darkness of his attire, and a military cap rested on top of his head. A distinctive monocle glinted over one of his cyan-blue eyes, giving him an air of cold calculation. 

A mercenary broke the silence with a mocking laugh. “Why are you all so tense? That’s just one human! We’re an army! Get him!” 

The first wave of mercenaries charged forward and raised their weapons that shimmered with elemental energy, warhammers that cracked with lightning, staves that pulsed with raw magic, and the air ignited with spells, fireballs, ice lances, and arcs of electricity all flying toward him. 

The man sighed slowly, unfazed. Then, in a calm, almost amused tone, he spoke. 

“Surrounded, am I?” He rolled his shoulders. “All I’m surrounded by… is fear. And dead men.” 

Without hesitation, he raised a bolter, and—

Bang!!

Thunder cracked as the first shot echoed across the battlefield, and a mercenary exploded into a mist of blood with metal shards scattering like shrapnel.

He fired again and again. Each round found its mark as the explosive shells punched through enchanted shields, shredding armor, and turning groups of mercenaries into smoldering craters. 

A mage at the back of the group shouted, “Focus fire! Take him down!” 

A barrage of spells rained down on the man, a hail of fire, ice, and lightning meant to obliterate anything in its path, but his body shockingly appeared to be absorbing the impacts with barely a scratch.

Then, he charged forward, faster than any human should be with a presence of an unstoppable force of destruction.

From his Spatial Ring, a metal sword materialized in his grasp, and as the man reached the first line of mercenaries, he swung down the sword in a wide arc and sliced through enchanted weapons and armor as if they were paper. Limbs and torsos were severed, blood misting the air, and the air was filled with the screams of the dying. 

A mercenary tried to strike him from behind with a lightning-charged spear aimed at his spine, but the man spun around with impossible speed for a human, grabbing the spear mid-thrust and snapping it in two, followed by crushing the mercenary’s head with a single punch, and the force splattered his bone and flesh against the ground.

Another wave of mercenaries swarmed him, desperate to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. They surrounded him, stabbing and slashing with enchanted blades, only for their blades to glance off as if striking solid steel.

The man chuckled darkly. “Foolish elves. You are but insects before the might of humanity!”

With a single clap, a shockwave erupted from his hands and sent bodies flying like ragdolls. Those still standing barely had time to react before he was upon them again, stepping over their broken bodies and continuing his slaughter with each swing of his sword cleaving multiple foes in half. 

From above, archers rained down volleys of mana-infused arrows. The man didn’t even flinch as he raised his bolter, aimed at the wall supporting their perch, and fired.