Chapter 323: The Battle of Okkagral (Part Five)

Andre suddenly leapt forward and charged, slashing his sword down.

"Clang—"

The clash of metal produced a crisp sound.

Trishka’s arm trembled slightly as he raised his sword to block. He spoke heavily, "As the beloved son of a duke, how can you betray him?"

"Even if you want to reform the Northlands, this is not the way!"

Andre knocked away his opponent’s sword with force, stepped in swiftly, and thrust forward like a gust of wind.

"Trishka."

He once again "Clang!" split apart the blocking sword and raised his own sword high in the same motion.

"Can’t you see it?"

"The Northlands are rotten to the bone, through and through! It’s beyond saving!"

Andre shouted sharply.

A series of sharp sword clashes rang out as Andre’s sword struck Trishka’s armor like a storm, leaving him overwhelmed and covered in ghastly wounds.

"That still doesn’t justify this method!"

Trishka gritted his teeth, barely defending against Andre’s fierce attacks, and couldn’t help but retort.

Andre remained silent, clenching his left hand.

Immediately, the holy light of oath magic surrounded him. Effects such as [Bull’s Strength], [Cat’s Grace], and [Bear’s Endurance] enhanced him, amplifying his strength, agility, and resilience.

He raised his longsword again, slashing down mercilessly.

"Clang!"

Trishka once again blocked with his sword, but this time the force was so overwhelming it numbed his grip and sent him tumbling to the ground. His sword flew from his hand.

The [Sword of Glory’s Knight] pierced the blood-stained snow, gleaming brilliantly under the sunlight.

"No..."

Trishka scrambled to his feet, trying to retrieve his weapon.

He knew that a knight without his blade faced a tragic fate.

But Andre wouldn’t allow it. In just a few steps, he intercepted Trishka’s path, sword in hand.

What followed was an even swifter, storm-like barrage of strikes.

If Trishka had struggled to cope before, now he was simply fighting for his life.

Using instinct and reflexive combat skills, he narrowly avoided fatal strikes, knowing even the slightest lapse would mean death.

Andre raised his silver sword, aiming another horizontal slash at his opponent’s neck.

Trishka quickly ducked, the blade narrowly grazing his scalp.

It was pure muscle memory—everything happened too fast.

Yet, midway through the swing, Andre forcefully redirected the blade’s trajectory, turning the slash into a vertical chop.

Simultaneously, his sword-hand glowed, and magic energy surged into the silver blade—it was [Enchanted Weapon]!

"Swish!"

In the next moment, the radiant silver sword shattered Trishka’s shoulder armor, embedding deeply into his shoulder.

Trishka knelt, blood gushing from his wound, as he struggled to lift his head and weakly asked, "Why, Andre..."

"Why would you bow to an evil dragon rather than trust your father? Rather than trust the Duchy of Bosk that raised you?"

His tone grew from low and somber to furious, even anguished.

Andre remained calm, speaking dispassionately:

"Haven’t you realized yet, Trishka?"

"My father and the Northland nobles that Bosk represents are the greatest tumors hanging over the people’s heads. They are leeches draining the blood of everyone’s backs."

"For thousands of years, nobles have greedily siphoned the people’s lifeblood without pause. As long as they exist, reforms and progress are impossible. After all, who would oppose themselves or deny their own existence?"

Andre pressed the blade deeper, widening the wound.

"And you?"

He let out a cold chuckle.

"Ha, the esteemed Count Trishka, a political rising star among the Northland elites."

"Even you don’t realize it. You’re no longer the spirited youth you once were. You’ve become part of the Northland nobility, willing to do anything to preserve your status—even if it means ruining lives and tearing families apart."

"This so-called ’grand forage collection’ must be your handiwork?"

"I’ve seen it many times in the "Kingdom Daily". I must say, my father certainly values you, entrusting you with such critical tasks that determine the survival of the Northland aristocracy and bleed the people dry."

"Compared to the utterly rotten nobles above, the only difference with you... is that you cling to impractical fantasies."

"Fantasies that the Northlands’ progress can coexist with noble rule."

"But when reality shatters those dreams, you’re no different from them."

Trishka shuddered in agony, spitting out a mouthful of bright red blood.

"Pfft!"

"But... how is that evil dragon any better than us? Are nobles truly greedier than dragons?"

"Everything you see now is just a façade. He only wants to seize the Northlands for himself!"

"Once the Northland nobility is eradicated, that dragon will reveal its true face. Its greed will consume everything here, including the ’people’ you claim to protect and serve!"

Trishka, blood dripping from his mouth, retorted with a ferocious expression.

Andre pulled out his radiant silver sword.

"Swish—"

Accompanied by the whistle of the blade, Trishka’s head was cleanly severed. His headless, armor-clad body collapsed forward.

Even as the head rolled to the ground, its blood-stained, handsome face remained frozen in disbelief.

He had never imagined Andre would kill him so decisively.

Without mercy.

Andre gazed down at the lifeless head, murmuring, "Trishka, I don’t know what kind of dragon it truly is, but at least it’s a more competent ruler than the Northland nobility."

He gripped his silver sword tightly again. "If one day that dragon shows its so-called ’true face,’ I will fight to cut off its head."

Andre’s tone was resolute, his eyes unwavering.

In the distance, the Berserker rubbed his bald head, full of frustration.

"Damn it! Is there no justice? I spent extra experience to exchange for a quick resurrection, only to have an NPC steal my kill."

"This won’t do. I need to make up for it, or I’ll suffer a huge loss!"

With that thought, the Berserker turned his gaze toward the allied soldiers and officers, his eyes predatory, as if seeing walking contributions and gold coins.

The allied soldiers instantly felt their hair stand on end, as though a ferocious beast had set its sights on them.

"Roar—"

"Ah! A monster!"

"Damn it, what is that thing!"

"Stay away from me!"

The barbarian’s furious roar, the allied soldiers’ terrified screams, and the sound of flesh and bone being crushed wove together into a new bloody Chapter.