Chapter Sixty-One: Hero Versus Hero

Calvin Palm rode his wild boar, bored and restless, surrounded by a throng of anxious goblin guards.

He had little respect for these poorly equipped fellows. As the youngest son of the Palm family, he was neither particularly skilled nor influential within his clan, but in this remote region, he was a veritable war god. His two-handed longsword alone was a treasure these paupers could only dream of. Legend had it the blade was forged in the distant Dwarf Hills by their finest master smith, making it one of the family’s most prized weapons. If not for his mother’s insistence, his father would never have allowed him to bring it to the battlefield.

“Why did they send me to this godforsaken place? As a man of the Palm family, I should be earning my renown in the kingdom’s capital.” Calvin sighed.

He didn't understand why, just after completing his training, his father had ordered him here to attack a band of savages. True, they possessed some group spell involving singing and dancing, but Calvin dismissed it out of hand. According to today's plan, he intended to deliver a crushing blow, but after only three group spells, the enemy was already on the verge of collapse.

“Is there really no chance to show the might of Lord Calvin?” He sighed again.

“Get away from me, you fool!”

At that moment, a goblin guard accidentally brushed his right leg. Calvin erupted in fury, shouting and kicking the hapless guard to the ground. His strength was tremendous; the pitiful goblin lay prone, struggling to rise, blood pooling beneath his head where it struck a stone.

“A bunch of trash. Just a handful of savage deer riders and you’re all so nervous. No wonder this place has never been pacified after all these years. If I were in charge, I’d let them come and cut them down one by one.”

Calvin spat contemptuously on the twitching guard and spoke with disdain.

Just then, chaos erupted in the nearby woods as a herd of deer riders burst forth, sending the goblin soldiers into a frenzy of shouting and panic.

But Calvin was delighted. He gripped his longsword, shouting, “Let them come! Let them come! I want to have some fun!”

This man was, in truth, a sadist, most fond of tormenting prisoners. The goblin commander, fearing for Calvin’s safety, had placed him at the rear of the army, which only frustrated him. Now, with the enemy approaching, he was exhilarated. The weapons of the goblin deer riders were so crude they could never pierce his armor. He relished such one-sided slaughter.

The goblin guards dared not let Calvin advance, and under their leader’s command, they quickly surrounded Martin and his companions.

Though the elk were swift, they lacked combat power and were lighter than the wild boars ridden by the goblin cavalry. With Calvin’s group magic, the ambush squad soon found themselves in dire straits.

Calvin’s blade flashed; a goblin knight tumbled from his mount with a scream, his thigh skewered by a nearby goblin guard’s spear.

“Remember, don’t kill him! If you do, I’ll cut you down myself!”

Calvin shouted at the goblin guards; these captives were his playthings.

Martin and his companions fought desperately, finally opening a gap in the ranks of goblin guards.

“Sun Licheng, what are you waiting for?”

Martin hacked at foes with his longsword, shouting into the woods; many of his men had already fallen.

Suddenly, a colossal wolf’s howl stunned everyone. Calvin, once triumphant, stared in shock as a giant wolf burst from the trees, bearing a goblin on its back!

If the elk were like sedans, the wolf king was an armored vehicle—superior in speed and attack. Sun Licheng charged in like a war god, tearing through half the enemy lines.

The goblin soldiers here were well-trained, quickly encircling the wolf king.

The Mountain-Cleaver saber danced, sending goblins screaming and retreating, dropping their weapons. With enemies multiplying, Sun Licheng hastily cast Flame Shield. Small shields of fire shimmered on him and the wolf king, flashing a few times before vanishing.

“Heavens above, the enemy has a hero!”

Calvin rubbed his eyes in disbelief, muttering to himself.

“But it's strange—why didn’t this hero cast defensive magic on the deer riders?”

He frowned, suspicious. Calvin didn’t know that Sun Licheng had no command over the deer riders—not even nominally. Heroic power could only empower his own subordinates with group magic, its range not as wide as that of priests or mages.

Sun Licheng had stumbled into his heroic power by accident and knew little of its limits, but nonetheless, he was a hero—his impact could not be underestimated!

“Goddess of the Silver Moon, Sun Licheng is actually a hero!”

Martin, locked in desperate combat, was also astonished; he had never imagined Sun Licheng was so powerful.

“A hero, a real hero! Hah, wonderful! Now it’s my turn to make a name for myself. If I kill him, my fame will spread throughout the kingdom!”

Revived, Calvin laughed loudly, brandished his sword, and spurred his boar forward.

In this world, heroes were a special breed—born generals, one might say. Killing an enemy general in any era was always a dazzling feat. If Calvin could slay a hero, even in these remote lands, he would become the youngest war god of his family—a glory bestowed by the heavens.

Battle-lust surging, Calvin barreled through several goblin guards and clashed with Sun Licheng.

As they fought, both were surprised. Calvin’s sword was nearly one point seven meters long; sheer size gave it immense killing power. Trained in martial arts from childhood, his technique was superb, and he quickly gained the upper hand.

But Sun Licheng, though his weapon was short, rode a wolf king much larger than Calvin’s boar. Its fangs and claws were formidable, and Sun Licheng’s small frame housed tremendous strength, with exceptional muscle control and perception. Each blow left Calvin reeling.

Thus, Calvin, initially confident, found himself locked in a fierce, back-and-forth duel with Sun Licheng.

Some goblin warriors tried to intervene, but were swiftly torn apart. Calvin never considered them his own; if they got in his way, he cut them down mercilessly.

As the fight wore on, Sun Licheng realized his swordplay was becoming ever more refined, even absorbing many of Calvin’s techniques. He was delighted. But Calvin sensed something was wrong—his opponent grew stronger with every exchange, adapting his skills on the spot. This was a martial prodigy!

In fact, it was the power of Sun Licheng’s divinely enhanced brain. Every move Calvin made was instantly analyzed, refined, and integrated with Sun Licheng’s own martial arts.

For the gods, only other gods could be true enemies; using a mind built to battle deities against ordinary mortals—learning from them—was an opportunity only Sun Licheng, who had seized someone else’s body, could exploit.

Sun Licheng fought with increasing joy, but Martin’s side was in peril. As more goblins returned, the deer riders’ room to maneuver shrank, casualties mounting.

“Sun Licheng, finish him! We can’t hold out much longer!”

Martin cut down a foe and shouted to Sun Licheng.

Martin’s cry snapped Sun Licheng out of his revelry, prompting him to accelerate his assault.

Calvin soon found himself overwhelmed. He quickly understood Sun Licheng’s intent, and a cold smile curled his lips.

Seizing a momentary advantage, Calvin forced Sun Licheng back with a powerful slash, then urged his boar to run, goblins swarming behind. He intended to wear Sun Licheng down with sheer numbers and attrition.

Sun Licheng realized Calvin’s plan and made a swift decision, turning to charge toward Martin and the others. Having failed this attack, he meant to cover their retreat.

Calvin saw Sun Licheng trying to escape and panicked—was his prey about to slip away? He immediately turned his boar and charged after Sun Licheng, knowing the goblin fodder could never stop him.

“Stop that wolf rider!” Calvin bellowed, and the goblin soldiers struggled to separate Sun Licheng from Martin’s group.

With the goblins blocking his path, Calvin soon caught up to Sun Licheng and swung his sword at him.

Sun Licheng hurriedly parried Calvin’s blade with his Mountain-Cleaver, then unleashed a Scorching Arrow.

Calvin was stunned—his opponent was also a mage? And he hadn’t even uttered a spell!

Caught off guard, Calvin ducked as a fiery arrow whistled overhead; he breathed a sigh of relief, but before he could look up, the second arrow was already upon him.

In Calvin’s horrified gaze, the arrow grew larger and struck his head with a deafening boom, sending his helmet flying into the sky.

“How can he cast spells instantly…”

Before Calvin could make sense of it, a flash of light enveloped him, and he felt himself soaring upward.

Everyone watched in shock as Sun Licheng’s blade sent Calvin’s charred head flying. Yet Calvin’s headless body still straddled his boar.

Taking advantage, Sun Licheng urged his wolf king to rush to Calvin’s side, snatched the longsword with his left arm, and turned toward the forest.

A howl erupted from the goblins, who surged madly toward Martin and Sun Licheng. Calvin was dead—their hero had fallen. None of the guards would survive now.

No matter how brave the goblins were, they could not halt Sun Licheng, astride the towering wolf king and wielding the longsword. Soon, he vanished into the woods.

“Sun Licheng, you bastard! Everyone, retreat!”

Martin, left behind, cursed furiously, hacking at enemies and spurring his elk toward the trees. At last, after losing nearly twenty men, Martin and his survivors escaped into the woods.

Seeing their enemies flee, the goblins went berserk, brandishing their weapons and charging into the forest. But in that tangled terrain, they were no match for the elk and soon lost their quarry.

Meanwhile, beside the valley fortress, in Sun Licheng’s tunnel, a lizard-like beast suddenly raised its head, listening intently to the sounds around it. Nearby, the walls echoed with thunderous noises, then the grinding of gears—as though some mechanism had been activated.

...

“Sun Licheng, you bastard! Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? Do you know how many of my men died?”

Martin, having caught up to Sun Licheng, cursed him roundly.

“Don’t be angry—we succeeded, didn’t we? Besides, I drew away a lot of enemies.”

Sun Licheng, carrying Calvin’s longsword, smiled at Martin.

Seeing Martin about to retort, he quickly added, “Let’s hurry and send a signal to the chieftain! There’s no time to waste!”

Hearing this, Martin swallowed his anger and led everyone toward a mountain peak.

“Report to the chieftain! The signal tree on the mountain has fallen!”

A subordinate, excited, pointed to a distant peak and called out to Adolf.