NOVEL NEXT Chapter 524
Chapter 524: Authority and Bloodline
It was a massive stone statue.
With a robust physique, armor made of bones and alloys, a magnificent beard, and curved horns—
Everything was a stone replica of Panmoalus himself.
“Hmm! Quite the impressive result!”
As if mimicking the satisfied movements of Panmoalus, the statue nodded greatly and plunged a pillar-like stone spear into the ground with a thud.
The demon Panmoalus had contracted with was the “Imitation Demon,” Imitatio.
From a young age, Panmoalus, who enjoyed crafting various trinkets for fun, found this to be the perfect demon partner. When he first entered the Dark Portal and met Imitatio through Odigos’ “guidance,” he was filled with childlike glee, thinking, “This looks fun!”
Though he was often laughed at for being “completely unsuited for battle”—many demons inherit bloodline magic. Panmoalus already possessed the Korvto Tribe’s “Stone Manipulation Curse,” which provided him ample potential to handle both combat and other tasks. There was no need to specialize the demon’s authority solely for battling.
Instead, powers specialized for combat grow only through actual battle. The authority of a demon that allows for slow cultivation of magical power through crafting suited Panmoalus’ nature perfectly.
And then—by combining it with “Stone Manipulation,” the authority of “Imitation” flourished.
During his childhood, he primarily made models out of stone.
He imitated humans, magical beasts, castles, and towns.
Eventually, small, precise models felt insufficient.
He started crafting life-size figures as well.
One day, he decided to experiment and tried to move the models.
They moved without any issues. It was fun.
—Could he move even larger objects?
Driven by curiosity, the young Panmoalus tried moving larger creations.
He galloped on a life-sized skeletal horse, rode a dragon (though he couldn’t fly in the air), and manipulated his own enlarged stone statue.
He was so happy and immersed in training that his magical power kept growing—
His magical power and the precision of “Stone Manipulation” increased dramatically.
Of course, Panmoalus also trained hard with his spear and gained experience on the battlefield.
Before he knew it, he had grown strong enough to face a whole unit by himself.
No one dared to laugh at him for being “unsuitable for combat” anymore.
“—Alright! Come at me whenever you’re ready!”
Panmoalus spread his arms provocatively. The huge statue of him behind mimicked the movement, stretching its arms wide.
Though it may not have been a direct response, a catapult’s projectile soon came flying in.
“Hoho, they came quickly… Here it comes!”
He set his aim and carefully moved his spear.
The huge Panmoalus, perfectly mimicking his movements, met the projectile with its massive stone spear.
The spear, enhanced by “Stone Manipulation,” with a resounding crash, endured the impact and magnificently returned the projectile.
It flew in an arc, leaping over the fortress, and struck the cliff behind.
A rumble shook the battlefield.
Following that, several other projectiles came flying in, which the massive spear deflected in the same manner.
“Hoho! This is rather entertaining!”
Panmoalus, his face brightened with good cheer, said:
“—I think I’ve grasped the trick!”
With a swift swing, he unleashed his spear.
A gust of wind brushed past. The giant spear trembled. The movements of Panmoalus’ own spear, so quick they were hard to follow, echoed in the expanded form, creating a localized tempest.
A deafening roar resonated far beyond anything heard before as the catapult’s stone projectiles were sent smashing back.
Ironically, even when the striking force of the great statue’s mass and momentum hit home, the projectiles did not shatter in mid-air—its unyielding toughness, seemingly infused with the malice toward demons, worked against it.
Like a shooting star.
The projectile, launched back, struck the fortress wall directly.
The shock was such that even a legendary archer’s strike felt like ripples in comparison, causing the fortress to shake once more.
Pebbles tumbled down.
—Imbedded within the wall, the projectile created a massive impact, causing cracks to spiderweb across the surface.
““…Ooh… Oooooohhh—!””
The battlefield erupted in commotion.
The sudden appearance of the massive statue, the gallant rebuff of the catapult’s projectiles, followed by a fierce counterattack against the fortress—
General soldiers were as excited as if witnessing a mythic giant in action.
“Whoa! Don’t break the wall! That’s meant for the younger folks!”
Panmoalus slapped his forehead, realizing he might have been careless, along with the giant statue behind him.
“If possible, I want to take out only the catapult… I need to send it back just right…”
Panmoalus muttered to himself, but suddenly realized.
“—Oh, maybe I don’t need to destroy it.”
I can just return everything.
If he nullified the projectiles, it was as good as destroying the catapult.
“Hoho! Then this makes things easier. Come on, shoot away! Hohoho!”
Laughing joyfully, Panmoalus swayed his spear.
The massive Panmoalus mimicked his expression, innocently yet cruelly, like a child toying with ants, looking down at the dwarven fortress—
“…Don’t let the big guy get ahead of you!”
While some admired Panmoalus’ exploits, others took the moment to charge as the mechanical arches fell silent and the catapults were nullified.
“The first strike is ours…!”
A small unit of demons.
The warriors of the Anoitus Tribe.
Under the leadership of the 2nd Prince Rubyphia, they participated as part of the allied Korvto Tribe in a tribal alliance.
“Now, we shall show our spears and—”
“—demonstrate the strength of our horns!”
The Anoitus Tribe was even more desperate than other tribes.
Due to one of their own members picking a fight with the 7th Prince Zilbagias and having their horns broken in return, they became the subject of ridicule, labeled as the “weak-horned tribe.”
Since then, they seemed to be cursed by misfortune, failing to take heads in battle, their territory ravaged by natural disasters, and this summer confronted with poor harvests—nothing but bad luck.
“Can we continue like this?”
“Time for a redemption!!”
But if they could achieve a splendid military achievement in this battle, they could break this cycle of misfortune!
“Behold! That fortress!!”
The Anoitus Tribe’s captain shouted, pointing at the fortress with his spear.
“What a massive prize…!!”
Eyes wide open in excitement, the warriors of the Anoitus Tribe stared intently at the fortress.
“It’s a prize…”
“Without a doubt, that’s a prize!”
“A prize! A prize!!”
It was as if nothing else mattered to them anymore but the fortress.
“What a massive prize!”
“We shall hunt it down, hunt it down!!”
“That’s our prize!”
With bloodshot eyes, they shouted as if convincing themselves, speeding forward with a madness coursing through them—
““Charge!!””
Thundering forth, they surged with the weight of their combined force, akin to a single spear. With Panmoalus’ full might of projectile repulsion, they finally began to crack the fortress’s sturdy walls—
“Daaarrrreeee!!!”
—thud.
The tip of an ordinary spear pierced through.
“Ooooohh! Charge!”
“Charge! Charge!! Charge!!!”
“Chaaaaarge!!”
Unified, one after another, they drove their spears in. Each of their spear tips, to varying depths, thrust into the stone wall, creating a hole.
This was the Anoitus Tribe’s bloodline magic—”Charge Curse.”
By “convincing oneself that the target is prey,” they could penetrate even the hardest and most robust of things with their spears.
The origin lies in the time of the “Sanctuary,” when their ancestors, out of hunger, mistook nearby rocks for prey and speared them. At the time, the demons had no contracts with demons, and their magical power was meager, yet they pierced the rock with crude spears made of bones and wood, showcasing their astounding might.
Due to its nature, the stronger the conviction of the wielder, the greater the “Charge Curse’s” power. The Anoitus Tribe revered this “intense belief” as “strength of will.”
Thus, through countless generations of transition and refinement, the current Anoitus Tribe had turned into a remarkably intense group of abnormal believers.
This, unfortunately, led them to be easily led by other tribes, but—
In battle, that trait could also turn into a strength.
The Anoitus Tribe acted as an unparalleled spear of breakthrough, and once they set their sights on prey, they would never give up until it was pierced—
“Charge—!!”
Such a thick and sturdy fortress wall was mercilessly pierced by the power of belief, slowly burrowing deeper.
Their speed of excavation cannot be said to be particularly quick, but the Korvto Tribe and Sauroe Tribe, who were the main focus of the assault, were relatively slow in their invasion as well.
Thus—
They were in time.
“Ohh!”
“They’re doing it!!”
“Go on! Just break through!”
With the praises of the other tribes behind them, the Anoitus Tribe continued to swing their spears—finally breaking through the fortress wall.
A portion of the tattered wall crumbled and fell with a crash.
“Charge—!!”
Yet, simply making a large hole was not enough for them to believe they had “secured” their prey.
The Anoitus Tribe, determined to guarantee the prey’s demise, with bloodshot eyes, surged into the fortress’s interior like an avalanche!!
“—So, the barbarians have come!”
What awaited them, however, was a group of shining heavy-armored soldiers.
Dwarves clad in meticulously maintained heavy armor, exuding an unusual presence, wielding battle axes and war hammers.
—Dwarf Blacksmith Warriors. They were warriors clad in the “True Champion” heritage passed down through generations.
“—Stab—?”
“What the?!”
“…Dwarves!?”
Once they entered the realm of “prey,” another “prey” materialized within, creating a dissonance in their beliefs and bringing the Anoitus warriors back to their senses.
In the process, they abruptly noticed.
Somewhere above, they could hear the bubbling sound—
“Even if you are uninvited guests, it is our custom to serve you a drink!”
One of the dwarves shouted as if spitting it out.
“Drink up, no hesitation—!!”
He swiftly cut the rope nearby with his battle axe.
At that moment, above the Anoitus warriors,
A boiling furnace tilted,
And molten iron began to rain down like a waterfall.