Lambert stood alone at the front of the formation.
The wind rolled across the plains, carrying with it the scent of blood, churned earth, and smoke from the burning outskirts of the village. Beyond him, the endless sea of orcs continued its steady advance, their synchronized footsteps sending faint tremors through the ground beneath his boots.
He didn't move.
His eyes remained fixed upon the approaching army.
Behind him, the defenders quietly assembled into formation. Guards raised their shields. Archers rested arrows against bowstrings. Adventurers performed their final equipment checks while villagers hurried the last of the wounded toward the safety of the Bastion.
Nobody disturbed him.
Even Gayrum remained silent.
Lambert slowly reached toward the leather strap securing the halberd across his back.
With one smooth motion, he lifted the weapon free.
The polished steel caught the afternoon sun, and the intricate engravings carved along the shaft and blade became visible once more. Unlike ordinary decorations, the markings flowed uninterrupted from one end of the weapon to the other, intertwining with one another like veins beneath the surface of the metal.
He rested the butt of the halberd against the ground.
The impact was gentle.
Yet the sound carried surprisingly far.
For a brief moment, Lambert simply stood there with both hands resting upon the weapon, quietly studying the battlefield before him.
His gaze swept across the front ranks of the orc army.
The shield bearers.
The mounted boar riders.
The officers hidden among the formation.
Finally...
It settled upon the crowned orc seated high above the battlefield.
The two remained separated by hundreds of meters.
Even so...
Neither looked away.
A faint smile appeared on Lambert's face.
"So..."
He spoke quietly enough that only Gayrum, standing a few steps behind him, could hear.
"...you're the one leading them."
Gayrum folded his arms.
"Recognize him?"
Lambert slowly shook his head.
"No."
"But I recognize the formation."
His expression gradually became more serious.
"They came prepared."
The playful adventurer who joked with trainees and argued over drinks quietly disappeared.
In his place stood a man who had spent a lifetime on battlefields.
Lambert loosened his shoulders.
Rolled his neck once.
Then adjusted the grip of his gloves.
None of the movements were dramatic.
They were simple.
Familiar.
The kind of routine repeated so many times that his body performed it without thought.
Behind him, Leon watched silently.
He had seen Lambert train countless times over the past year.
He had watched him demonstrate techniques.
Correct stances.
Teach recruits.
Spar with adventurers.
But somehow...
This felt completely different.
For the first time...
Lambert looked like someone preparing to kill.
Without warning, he exhaled slowly.
The strange markings engraved across his armor began glowing faintly beneath the afternoon light.
One line.
Then another.
Until the entire pattern flowed with a pale radiance that spread naturally into the engravings along his halberd.
No one spoke.
The battlefield itself seemed to wait.
---
Lambert stood alone before the advancing army, his halberd resting loosely over one shoulder as thousands of armored orcs continued marching toward the village. Their synchronized footsteps shook the plains beneath his feet, yet his gaze remained steady, calmly studying the formation before him.
_It has been a while._
His eyes slowly swept across the battlefield.
The shield bearers.
The mounted boar cavalry.
The officers hidden within the ranks.
Finally...
The crowned orc leading them from the rear.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
_Without Serene's harmonics... my mana reserves are barely a third of what they used to be._
He slowly rolled his shoulders before adjusting his grip on the halberd.
_Arthas isn't here to rewrite my mana script either._
For a brief moment, he simply stared at the weapon in his hands.
Its steel remained as flawless as the day it had been forged.
The strange engravings carved along its shaft quietly reflected the afternoon light.
_We'll have to manage on our own today... Gale Cutter._
Lambert lowered his stance.
The battlefield suddenly became quiet.
"**Lightening.**"
The familiar sensation immediately spread throughout his body.
The burden of his own weight faded away as though gravity itself had loosened its grip. Every movement became lighter, every step easier, while the strength within his legs remained exactly the same.
He exhaled slowly.
The green ring resting upon his right hand began emitting a soft emerald glow.
Mana flowed from his body into the ring before continuing into Gale Cutter. One after another, the intricate markings engraved across the halberd awakened, their faint green light spreading naturally toward the blade until the entire weapon shimmered with a quiet radiance.
Lambert leaned forward.
The ground beneath his feet exploded.
Freed from the weight that normally restrained his movements, he launched himself across the battlefield with terrifying speed. The distance separating the defenders from the orc army vanished in only a few heartbeats, leaving behind nothing more than a cloud of dust and shattered earth.
The front line of armored orcs barely had enough time to lower their shields before Lambert appeared before them.
His expression never changed.
"**Air Cutter.**"
The words were barely louder than a whisper.
Gale Cutter swept across the battlefield in one clean horizontal arc.
The first five armored orcs were cleaved apart instantly, their heavy shields and thick armor offering no resistance whatsoever. At the edge of the halberd's blade, compressed air burst forward into a massive crescent that surged through the ranks behind them. The invisible blade carved through dozens more before erupting deep within the formation, releasing a violent shockwave that threw armored bodies into the air and sent shattered shields tumbling across the plains.
The once-perfect wall of advancing orcs staggered for the first time.
A gap had been carved straight through the front of their formation.
And Lambert...
Had only taken a single step into the battlefield.
---
The gap carved through the front ranks lasted only a heartbeat before the surrounding orcs rushed forward to close it.
Lambert took a single step into the opening.
Using the momentum from his previous swing, he planted his lead foot firmly into the ground and pivoted on his back foot. His entire body rotated with practiced precision, the long shaft of Gale Cutter tracing a perfect circle around him as though he were standing at the center of a raging storm.
"**Air Cutter.**"
The halberd completed its arc.
Three massive blades of compressed air burst from its edge, each racing in a different direction across the battlefield. They tore effortlessly through the tightly packed formation, ripping apart everything caught in their path before erupting into violent shockwaves that scattered armored orcs across the plains.
Where the attacks passed, nothing remained standing.
Heads separated cleanly from shoulders.
Tower shields split in half.
The once-disciplined front line crumbled into chaos as blood stained the earth beneath their feet.
From the rear lines, Fidley could only stare.
A long whistle escaped his lips.
"Wuuuuuuuuueeeeeew..."
The spear he had been gripping with white knuckles slowly lowered to his side.
The tension that had filled his body only moments ago melted away as he watched armored orcs collapse one after another, their severed heads tumbling across the battlefield while those behind them struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
"...I guess he really wasn't joking."
Not far behind him, Lyra watched the battlefield with equally wide eyes.
"...Can only use Tier One magic..."
She let out a quiet laugh.
"...My ass."
She continued watching the emerald trails left behind by Lambert's attacks.
"Those techniques are easily comparable to Tier Three... maybe even Tier Four."
Gayrum chuckled.
"They are Tier One."
Lyra turned toward him with an unconvinced look.
"You're kidding."
"I'm not."
His eyes never left Lambert.
"The spell itself is simple."
"What makes it terrifying..."
"...is everything built around it."
Lyra looked back toward the battlefield.
Lambert had already disappeared into another wave of orcs.
"...That doesn't make me feel any better."
Gayrum folded his arms.
"If Arthas were standing beside him..."
He smiled to himself.
"...this battlefield would've ended much sooner."
Lyra blinked.
"So the stories are true?"
"The Frozen Knight really was that ridiculous?"
Gayrum laughed.
"Ridiculous?"
"That's putting it mildly."
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"If anything..."
"...Lambert's the one doing all the hard work today."
Lyra looked at him in disbelief.
"...Is Arthas really as amazing as everyone says?"
Gayrum smirked.
"You should've seen him when he was younger."
Before he could continue, another voice interrupted them.
"...Really?"
Gayrum glanced sideways.
"We're in the middle of a war, and that's what you're curious about?"
Lyra shrugged without taking her eyes off the battlefield.
"I can multitask."
Gayrum simply sighed before turning back toward the fight.
"Women..."
---
The orcs surged forward without hesitation.
Even after witnessing the first ranks collapse, the warriors behind them continued marching over the bodies of their fallen comrades, roaring as they lowered their axes and spears toward the lone human standing before them.
Lambert answered by taking a single step.
The first spear thrust toward his chest.
He tilted his body just enough for the blade to pass beside his shoulder before driving the butt of Gale Cutter into the orc's throat. The sickening crack of shattered bone echoed across the battlefield as the warrior stumbled backward, gasping for air.
Before the body even hit the ground, Lambert's halberd was already moving.
The axe head buried itself into another orc's shoulder, splitting through armor before continuing into its chest. With a twist of his wrists, he ripped the blade free, sending a spray of dark blood across the shields of the warriors behind it.
Three more rushed him.
One swung a massive battle axe.
Another thrust a spear.
The last raised a tower shield and charged.
Lambert stepped inside the axe's reach.
The heavy weapon whistled harmlessly over his shoulder.
Using the shaft of Gale Cutter, he hooked the spearman's weapon aside before driving the pointed end of his halberd straight through the shield bearer's visor. The steel tip burst out the back of the helmet in a shower of blood and shattered bone.
Without slowing down, Lambert planted a foot against the corpse and kicked it forward.
The body slammed into the remaining two orcs, knocking both off balance.
His halberd swept once.
Two heads rolled across the dirt.
---
An armored boar thundered toward him, its rider lowering a long cavalry spear.
Lambert didn't evade.
He waited.
Ten meters.
Five.
Three.
At the very last moment, he stepped slightly to the side.
The spear scraped harmlessly across his armor as Gale Cutter rose in a diagonal arc.
The rider was cut cleanly from his saddle.
The blade continued without stopping.
The boar's neck opened from shoulder to jaw.
Both beast and rider collapsed together, skidding across the blood-soaked ground.
Lambert never looked back.
The next group was already waiting.
Five armored orcs surrounded him at once.
To Leon, it looked impossible.
To Lambert...
It looked slow.
Every swing.
Every thrust.
Every movement.
He had seen them all before.
One axe was redirected into another orc's shield.
A spear was caught beneath the hook of Gale Cutter before being snapped in half.
An elbow shattered a jaw.
A kick crushed a knee.
The halberd flashed only once.
When Lambert finally stopped moving, five bodies hit the ground almost simultaneously.
---
Leon stood frozen behind the defensive line, his sword still clenched tightly in both hands.
Only moments ago, he had been preparing himself to fight for his life.
He had expected a desperate battle.
A bloody struggle where every step forward would be bought with someone's sacrifice.
Instead...
He found himself watching a single man dismantle an army.
Every swing of Lambert's halberd carved another opening through the sea of orcs. The disciplined formation that had terrified everyone only minutes earlier had already begun to crumble, yet Lambert never slowed down. He continued advancing at a steady pace, weaving effortlessly between axes and spears as though he already knew where every attack would come from.
Leon couldn't follow all of it.
His eyes caught fragments.
A halberd flashing through the air.
An armored orc collapsing before it could even finish raising its shield.
A mounted boar crashing into another line of warriors after its rider was cut down.
Every time Leon thought he had finally tracked Lambert's movements...
He disappeared again.
"...How..."
The word escaped his lips before he even realized it.
That wasn't swordsmanship.
It wasn't simply strength.
It was something far beyond anything he had ever witnessed.
He had spent years believing that reaching the level of an adventurer would make him strong.
Then he met Lambert.
He believed an S-Class adventurer represented the peak of humanity.
Now...
That belief was beginning to crumble just as quickly as the orc formation before him.
The battlefield itself seemed to revolve around Lambert.
Thousands of orcs charged.
Thousands of orcs attacked.
Yet every movement they made was slowly being forced to respond to a single man.
Leon tightened his grip around his sword.
_Is..._
_Is this what a Hero really looks like?_
Behind him, several trainees had already lowered their weapons.
None of them spoke.
They simply watched.
Not because they had forgotten how to fight.
But because they genuinely couldn't imagine themselves stepping onto the same battlefield.
The difference was overwhelming.
It wasn't the difference between a novice and a veteran.
Nor was it the difference between an adventurer and an S-Class.
It felt like the difference between standing at the foot of a mountain...
...and looking up at its summit.
For the first time since leaving his village...
Leon realized just how small he truly was.
---
Gayrum simply smiled before returning his attention to the battlefield.
"Keep watching."
Far ahead, Lambert continued carving his way through the advancing army. The orcs no longer rushed him recklessly. Instead, they slowly tightened their formation, shield bearers advancing from every direction while the warriors behind them lowered their spears, attempting to overwhelm him through numbers alone.
Lambert calmly watched them close in.
"...Trying to box me in?"
His eyes swept across the formation before a faint smile appeared on his face.
"Not a bad decision."
He slowly lifted his right hand.
The emerald glow surrounding one of the seven rings gradually faded as the crimson gemstone resting on another finger began to shine. A deep red light pulsed from the ring before flowing into Gale Cutter through Lambert's grip.
The intricate scripts engraved along the shaft of the halberd responded immediately.
The green light that had flowed through every carved line moments earlier slowly disappeared, replaced by streams of crimson radiance that spread across the weapon like molten veins. One after another, the dormant scripts awakened until the entire halberd glowed with a deep red brilliance, bathing its polished steel in the color of burning embers.
Lambert rolled the weapon once in his hand before lowering its blade toward the advancing wall of shields.
"**Ember.**"
The chant was almost gentle.
Gale Cutter swept through the air in one clean horizontal arc.
A blazing crescent of crimson fire erupted from the edge of the blade, racing across the battlefield with terrifying speed. The wave of flame sliced through the front line before erupting deep within the formation, engulfing everything in its path. Tower shields blackened instantly before splitting apart, armor glowed bright orange from the overwhelming heat, and warriors caught within the attack disappeared beneath the inferno before the explosion hurled burning bodies into the ranks behind them.
The disciplined advance of the orc army faltered.
For the first time since reaching the battlefield, entire sections of their formation hesitated.
Behind the defensive line, Leon stared at the burning scar carved across the plains.
"...Ember?"
His voice was barely audible.
There was no mistake.
He knew that spell.
Ever since discovering he could manipulate mana, he had secretly practiced Ember whenever no one was watching. Every attempt ended the same way. A small arc of flame. Barely enough to scorch a tree trunk before the spell dispersed into smoke.
Yet Lambert had spoken the very same word.
The same chant.
The same spell.
And in a single swing, it had torn through an entire battalion.
Leon slowly tightened his grip around his sword.
_It's... the same Ember._
_So why..._
_Why does it look like an entirely different spell?_
Not far away, Gayrum noticed the disbelief on Leon's face and couldn't help but chuckle.
"You finally recognized it."
Leon looked toward him in confusion.
"...That was Ember."
Gayrum nodded.
"It was."
Leon looked back toward the battlefield, unable to tear his eyes away from the sea of flames still consuming the orc ranks.
"...That's impossible."
Gayrum's smile only grew wider.
"No."
"It just means you've still got a long way to go."
---
Leon continued staring at the burning battlefield.
"...That's really Ember?"
Gayrum nodded.
"It is."
Leon looked back toward Lambert, who was still carving his way through the advancing army.
"...It's the same spell..."
"...So why is it that powerful?"
Gayrum folded his arms.
"The spell isn't what you're looking at."
"You're looking at Lambert."
Before Leon could ask what that meant—
"YAAAAAHOOOOOO!"
A loud, excited voice suddenly echoed across the battlefield.
Everyone instinctively turned.
Captain Boom Boom came charging through the front line with an enormous grin plastered across his face. His oversized mallet bounced happily across his shoulder, the giant red rubber heads making it look more like a festival toy than a battlefield weapon.
"Make way! Make way!"
Several guards hurriedly stepped aside.
Boom Boom sprinted straight toward a group of charging armored orcs before suddenly leaping high into the air.
Far higher than anyone expected.
Then...
For absolutely no reason...
He spread both legs wide apart, striking a ridiculous pose that made it look as though he were comfortably sitting on an invisible chair suspended in midair.
"..."
Even the charging orcs hesitated.
Boom Boom raised the oversized mallet above his head.
"**SUPER BOOM BONK!**"
**BONK!**
The giant rubber head slammed squarely into the helmet of the leading orc.
The helmet folded inward.
The orc's neck disappeared into its shoulders.
Its entire body shot straight into the ground with enough force to send cracks racing across the earth beneath it.
Boom Boom landed gracefully on top of the corpse.
"Hehehe!"
"One!"
Without stopping, he bounced toward another armored orc.
"BONK!"
"Two!"
Another.
"BONK!"
"Three!"
Another.
"BONK!"
"Four!"
Every swing produced the same ridiculous sound.
Every swing left another armored orc collapsed on the battlefield.
Leon stared in complete silence.
He slowly turned toward Gayrum.
"..."
"...Isn't that..."
"...a toy hammer?"
Gayrum didn't even look.
"Yep."
"...Why is it killing armored orcs?"
Gayrum shrugged.
"I asked him that once."
"And?"
"He said..."
Gayrum pinched the bridge of his nose.
"...'Because I swing it really, really hard.'"
Leon remained silent.
"..."
"...That..."
"...doesn't answer anything."
"No."
"It doesn't."
From somewhere ahead—
"BONK!"
"Five!"
"BONK!"
"Six!"
"BONK!"
"Seven!"
Boom Boom's cheerful counting echoed across the battlefield as if he were playing a children's game instead of fighting in a war.
Gayrum sighed.
"...You get used to it."
Leon continued staring toward the battlefield.
"...So only Lambert can do that?"
"Nope."
A cheerful voice suddenly answered from beside him.
Leon turned.
Captain Boom Boom had somehow returned without anyone noticing. Resting across his shoulder was the same oversized mallet, while the enormous boomerang hanging across his back looked almost as large as he was.
"Everyone can do it."
Leon blinked.
"...Everyone?"
Boom Boom nodded enthusiastically.
"Watch!"
He quickly pulled the giant boomerang from his back before spinning one of the crimson rings resting on his fingers.
The ring immediately began glowing.
A faint crimson light flowed into the strange markings carved along the curved edges of the boomerang until the entire weapon shimmered with a warm red glow.
Boom Boom grinned.
"**Ember!**"
He threw the boomerang with all his strength.
The weapon spun rapidly through the air.
A small crescent of crimson flame followed behind it before shooting toward a group of charging orcs. The attack exploded moments later, knocking several warriors onto their backs while setting a few others ablaze.
The boomerang curved gracefully through the battlefield before returning neatly into Boom Boom's waiting hand.
He stared at it.
"...Huh?"
He frowned.
"...Why was it so small?"
Boom Boom scratched his head.
"I swear Lambert's is way bigger."
Leon could only blink.
"..."
From somewhere behind them—
"I can do it too!"
Lulu proudly raised her oversized umbrella.
The blue ring on her finger glowed faintly before a stream of blue light spread through the markings carved into the umbrella's handle.
She pointed the tip toward the battlefield.
"**Water Needles!**"
Dozens of slender needles made from compressed water shot from the tip of the umbrella, peppering several charging orcs before disappearing into the distance.
"Me too!"
Lala immediately stepped forward with her oversized fishing rod.
The same blue glow spread across its strange engravings.
"**Water Whip!**"
She flicked the rod.
A long whip of water lashed across the battlefield, sweeping several surprised orcs off their feet before dispersing into a spray of mist.
The sisters looked at one another proudly.
"We did it!"
Gayrum slowly pinched the bridge of his nose.
"...That's not even the same thing."
Lulu tilted her head.
"...It isn't?"
"No."
Lala blinked.
"But it's water."
Gayrum let out a long sigh.
"...Exactly."
Boom Boom looked down at his boomerang once more before glancing toward Lambert, who had just erased another section of the battlefield in a blaze of crimson fire.
"..."
"...I think mine's broken."
Gayrum didn't even bother looking.
"It's not the boomerang."
Boom Boom looked genuinely disappointed.
"...Then why can't mine do that?"
Gayrum smiled.
"Ask Lambert after the battle."
"I have a feeling you'll regret the answer."