Chapter 179: Storm: Thousand Blade Dirge! The First Time Feeling Fear

Northern Frontier.

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

The cold wind howled, whipping up fine snow dust from the ground.

A few light, feather-like snowflakes drifted down from the clouds, silently vanishing into the accumulated snow.

Above the snow, a beautiful girl with ice-blue hair and a black-haired youth, no larger than a doll perched on her shoulder, stared intently at a distant direction.

There, two streams of silver and gold light hurtled toward them at breakneck speed, their rushing airwaves lifting snow from both sides into the sky.

Clang!

Dolove drew her Lionheart Sword and assumed a combat stance.

The two streams of light halted ten meters away, their magic dissipating to reveal the two figures within.

Within the silver glow stood a young man with silver-gray short hair and a face as sharply carved as if chiseled by axe and knife; he now examined Dolove and the black-haired fairy on her shoulder with keen interest.

Above his head floated a line of deep purple text—Noble.

Within the golden glow stood a tall, middle-aged man with ordinary features and golden hair; his expression was calm, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

Above him, the text was white—Commoner.

“The silver-haired one must be New Moon Peak; the golden-haired one—I can’t read his level. Probably Crescent Moon.”

Dolove whispered to Xia Mingyu.

Hearing this, his expression grew grave; though he had full confidence in the girl’s strength, fighting two opponents across a rank gap was far too reckless!

“You’re the one who killed Lord Lukas of the Ice Plain and Yise of Linshuang, aren’t you?” the silver-haired youth said coldly.

Huh? She only killed Lukas, didn’t she?

Xia Mingyu froze, his gaze turning questioning toward Dolove.

“Cough, cough—when I passed through those territories, I couldn’t bear their atrocities, so I killed them.”

The girl awkwardly rubbed her head; she hadn’t mentioned it, fearing the Prince would think her too bloodthirsty.

“Couldn’t bear it, so you killed them? How utterly brazen!”

The silver-haired youth’s interest hardened into icy murderous intent.

“On this land of the Northern Frontier, only the strongest Dean family holds the right to kill at will—not you, some woman who appeared out of nowhere.”

As he spoke, he drew his longsword, its blade engraved with ice-wolf patterns.

“I am Kaien Dean, the Wild Wolf. Woman, state your name.”

Exchanging names before mortal combat was a knightly tradition of this world; though he was certain of victory, he acknowledged this woman’s strength—she had slain multiple lords.

“Jadeite, Dolove,” Dolove said calmly, her gaze shifting between Kaien and the middle-aged man beside him.

Compared to Kaien, the Crescent Moon opponent was more worthy of her attention.

Sensing this, Kaien’s face flickered with irritation; he suppressed his anger and said:

“No one will interfere in our fight.”

“If you can survive my ten minutes of assault, I’ll grant you a chance to live. Otherwise, prepare to have your head cut off and hung on the city wall!”

As Kaien prepared to charge, the golden-haired middle-aged man beside him lightly placed a hand on his shoulder.

He glared at the man, but said nothing; after all, the man was superior to him, and Kaien, who upheld the law of the strong devouring the weak, naturally granted him respect.

“I am Aelier, deputy commander of the Frostfang Knights. Jadeite Knight, before we fight, could you ask your fairy companion on your shoulder to step away?” Aelier said calmly.

“We have no wish to harm the favorite of the God of Night and Dreams.”

Especially one capable of producing vast quantities of food, Aelier silently added in his mind.

After whispering to Xia Mingyu, he drifted silently to a nearby open patch of ground, watching with worried eyes.

Aelier then released Kaien’s shoulder; the next instant, the youth known as the Wild Wolf erupted with surging silver-white magic, launching himself like an arrow shot from a bow toward Dolove, who had already assumed her combat stance.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Amid a rapid series of clashing sword strikes like drumbeats, the two became silver and emerald streaks, moving at speeds beyond human vision.

At the center of their clash, sword qi spilled wildly; every snowflake drifting near was instantly shredded.

Xia Mingyu hovered nearby, watching their duel closely; with his vision enhanced to Morning Star level, he could barely make out their movements.

The silver-haired youth called Wild Wolf struck with ruthless precision, making no defensive maneuvers—his style felt like a mirror of Boge Chu’s, only faster and deadlier.

Dolove’s swordplay, by contrast, was elegant—like butterflies among flowers, she deflected each lethal strike with grace, even leaving faint cuts on her opponent.

“Clearly, Dolove has the upper hand now.”

With this realization, Xia Mingyu’s expression relaxed.

“Fairy Lord.”

As he focused entirely on the fierce battle, a sudden voice beside him nearly made him fall to the ground.

Only then did Xia Mingyu notice the golden-haired middle-aged man, who had introduced himself as deputy commander of the Frostfang Knights, had appeared beside him without warning.

“I mean no harm.”

Sensing Xia Mingyu’s tension, Aelier raised his empty palms high, like a French soldier, to show he had no intention to fight.

“What do you want?”

Seeing this, Xia Mingyu stepped back slightly, wary.

Though his body now hovered between illusion and reality, books on fairies warned that pure magical attacks could still harm them.

“I merely wish to express my gratitude,” Aelier said calmly.

Gratitude from an enemy?

“Gratitude for what?”

Xia Mingyu blinked, puzzled.

“On my way to pursue the Jadeite Knight, I passed dozens of villages along the route. The villagers, once starved, were saved and made happy by the food you brought. I felt I must thank you,” Aelier said slowly.

“What does that have to do with you?”

Xia Mingyu was even more confused; he clearly remembered Dolove saying Frostfang Knights all believed in the law of the strong devouring the weak—each knight was like Lukas, obsessed with power at all costs, otherwise they couldn’t have risen from the resource-poor Northern Frontier.

“Even in a pack of wolves, a sheep occasionally appears.”

“Besides, before I was a knight, I was a commoner. I’ve known hunger. I know how deeply sorrowful that pain is.”

Aelier pointed to the white text above his head—Commoner—and a faint look of melancholy crossed his unremarkable face, as if recalling something too painful to speak of.

As they spoke, the two fighters nearby briefly separated.

“Huff… huff…”

Kaien, once so arrogant, now breathed heavily; his body was covered in bleeding wounds, looking battered and broken.

Dolove remained composed, her breathing unchanged.

Between them, the superiority in swordsmanship was unmistakable.

“You survived ten minutes. I’ll give you a chance to live,” Dolove said coldly, returning his own words to him.

She had never been a patient person, especially toward enemies.

Hearing this, Kaien’s face twisted with shame and fury; as the legitimate son of the Northern Frontier’s ruler, his pride could not endure such humiliation!

“Huuu!”

The silver-haired youth drew a deep breath, then let out a piercing, mournful wolf howl.

The sound, forced from deep within his chest, swept across the silent snow like a blade of sound.

Simultaneously, a line of deep blue text appeared above his head—Ice Wolf Knight.

At the sound of the howl, even the knight girl, whose will far surpassed ordinary humans, grimaced in pain and clutched her left ear.

This was the Ice Wolf King’s unique ability—the Death Howl. To see it manifest in a human knight was astonishing; perhaps this was why the Dean family had ruled the vast Northern Frontier for nearly a century.

Seizing the moment, Kaien gathered all his magic into his blade; the ice-wolf-engraved sword blazed with brilliant silver-white light.

“Ice Wolf Slash!”

He roared, stepping forward violently; freezing cold erupted around him.

As he swung his sword through the air, the silver slash transformed into a beast of pure magic—an ice wolf, jaws wide with fangs, lunging toward Dolove, who still clutched her ear.

Where the slash passed, moisture in the air instantly froze, leaving a trail of frost on the ground.

Clang!

Fortunately, at the last instant, the girl broke free from the Death Howl’s effect; she raised both hands, and with surging emerald magic, a jade sword several meters long materialized instantly.

“Slash!”

Dolove brought down her great sword with full force, crashing into the snarling ice wolf.

Boom!

A deafening explosion erupted from the point of impact, sending a circular shockwave outward; snow within a hundred meters was blasted in all directions, revealing the underlying yellow soil.

“Impossible! My full-power Ice Wolf Slash… how could she block it so easily?”

Seeing this, the silver-haired youth’s sharp face was filled with shock and disbelief.

He stared blankly at the seemingly fragile, ice-flower-like blue-haired girl before him—and for the first time, Kaien realized one truth: the Jadeite Knight was a superior force in every way.

In strength, in talent—he was far inferior to that woman.

But mortal combat did not pause for his stunned silence; noticing his lapse, Dolove decided to seize this rare opportunity and strike him down first.

“Huh…” The girl breathed in a peculiar rhythm—the Lionheart Breathing Method, passed down through generations by the Mason family, the former sole ducal house of Soxia Kingdom, and the pinnacle of all breathing techniques.

She intended to test, in this moment of crisis, the sword technique Taimerlan had just gifted her.

Dolove raised the Lionheart Sword once more; countless emerald magical threads flowed from her body into the blade—not covering it, but swirling around it.

Instantly, violent winds coalesced into a swirling vortex of pale green and white around her; her ice-blue hair whipped wildly, her robes flapping like banners, as if she had become the very heart of the storm.

“Storm: Thousand Blade Dirge.”

With a clear shout, she slammed her longsword downward, and instantly a tornado dozens of meters in diameter rose from the ground, composed of countless tiny emerald blades.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The high-speed rotational wind pressure tore apart the yellow-brown earth, sucking up shattered stones and dust to form a devastating spiral storm.

The storm’s edges glowed with blinding cyan light; the air shrieked as it passed, the ground beneath carved with deep spiral furrows, and all grass and trees along its path were shredded into wood chips in an instant.

This was a sword technique once wielded by a legendary female knight, now reborn in the hands of the girl.

Facing this terrifying storm, Cain’s pupils shrank sharply, his entire body trembling uncontrollably under the pressure of imminent death.

Feeling the faint pain of wind pressure tearing at his cheeks, the silver-haired youth knew clearly: this was a strike he could not block—if struck, he would die.

And because of the storm’s immense suction, he was already lucky to use his dwindling magic to anchor himself in place—there was no strength left to escape.

Cold sweat seeped from Cain’s grip on his weapon; his teeth trembled slightly. His retinas reflected the growing cyan storm, and he could even hear his heart pounding wildly inside his chest.

In this moment, the youth, hailed by the people of the Northern Frontier as “Wild Wolf” and known for his defiant nature, finally felt a fear unlike any he had known, and so—

“Aelir, save me!” Cain abandoned the dignity of a scion of the Dean family and shouted for help—even to an opponent of equal rank.

Swish!

The golden-haired middle-aged man, who had been idly chatting with Xia Mingyu—mostly making conversation himself—instantly became a streak of golden light, arriving beside Cain before the cyan storm could engulf him.

Clang!

He drew his sword, slashed horizontally, and sheathed it—all one simple motion—releasing a golden sword qi over ten meters tall that slammed into the cyan storm.

Zing—!

With a piercing shriek, the cyan storm split cleanly in two; the upper half lost control and scattered into chaotic gusts.

The lower half crashed violently into the ground, exploding into a crater several meters wide.

The golden sword qi did not dissipate—it sliced across the sky above the girl’s head and roared toward the horizon, vanishing from sight.

“Even among the Crescent Moon rank, this man is far from ordinary!”

Dolove’s pupils contracted as she stared at the golden-haired middle-aged man standing before Cain, a deep wariness stirring within her.

She had encountered Crescent Moon-ranked warriors before, but she knew well: her uncle, former Eastern Frontier Cavalry Commander Lansen, could have done that casual slash—but her other uncle, Karri, also a Crescent Moon knight, might not have.

Unexpectedly, after blocking her attack, Aelir did not press further. Instead, he raised both hands again, just as he had earlier to calm Xia Mingyu.

Seeing this strange gesture, Dolove—who had been about to crush the snowflake from the Pale Witch—paused, her expression startled.

“Could we sit and talk, Lady Jade Knight?” Aelir said calmly.

“I mean no harm.” As if to prove his words, his plain face twisted into a gentle smile—though it was so stiff it looked almost comical.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dolove sheathed her sword, but clutched the snowflake tightly in her palm.

“Fine.” She agreed.

(End of Chapter)