***
After driving the ice bolt into place, Dale rode his horse straight down the ridge.
"Y-Young master Dale!"
The Duke of Jackson shook his head, stopping Lord Helmut who was quickly trying to pull the reins.
"I'll keep watching like this a little longer."
"Your Excellency the Duke!"
Dismissing the words of the embarrassed Lord Helmut, he turned his gaze towards Dale's back.
At first, he thought it was a child's beating.
But that ice bolt was released from Dale's fingertips. It was a kind of proof and message to his father to believe in him.
With a range and killing power that is incomparable to any other ice bolt, can it be called an ice bolt in the first place? Plus those formulas that Dale added to his spells.
「Barrett M98B」, 「8.58x70mm」.
An otherworldly pronunciation that the Duke of Jackson, who had lived his entire life as a person of this world, could not even imagine. Therefore, there was only one answer he could rationally come up with.
'No way, at that age, he already has a unique formula…?'
Even if beginner wizards add formulas that only they can understand to their spells, the effect will be extremely minimal.
However, the case is different for high-ranking magicians who have firmly established their image through repeated training. The advanced state of drawing images of that world from one's own elaborately constructed mental world. That is "Original Modification."
'Does it mean that a magician of only the 1st circle level can have such a complete mental world?'
Before we talk about circle levels, Dale is only nine years old. It was a level where even the words prodigy and genius were insufficient.
──But strictly speaking, what Dale used was not a truly original formula. At least the spell Dale recited had a clear counterpart.
Bombardment from armored fighter-bombers soaring through the sky. A barrage of gunfire and gunfire that echoed endlessly.
No one in this world would dare to imagine, however, weapons from another world clearly exist with substance.
'What on earth is that kid…?'
The Duke of Jackson, who had no way of knowing that fact, decided to just trust Dale and watch. No, on the contrary, he was so curious about Dale's performance that he was even impatient.
He became a childish father who expected his child's performance.
Moreover, no matter how far away he is, the Duke of Jackson is the greatest warlock on the continent. No matter how far the distance is, it would not be difficult to protect just one person when the time comes.
Across the retreating cavalry, Dale was already running down the ridge.
Knights and Orc swordsmen straggled in the distance, and behind it, a group of Orcs were still forming a square.
The distance quickly narrowed, and Dale's mind as he looked at them was colder than ever.
'The additional formula for the order is too cumbersome.'
It's perfect for sniping, but it's extremely inefficient when pronouncing it when the enemy is right in front of you.
However, the implications are too weak to project images of weapons existing on Earth at an unconscious level.
Therefore, we need an 'alternative word' that is a little more efficient and can be 70% effective on the spot.
Lightweight formula.
'…!'
After thinking about that, Dale inadvertently burst into laughter. He felt like an idiot for struggling so hard for just this reason.
Ice Bolt (ice crossbow). That is the magic name that wizards in this world use as a spell to conjure ice projectiles.
And Dale used that magic name as a basis, adding an image of what he thought was a sniper rifle as a 'formula.'
It was truly stupid. There was no need for that from the beginning.
"Grrr!"
One Orc swordsman was instantly killed by Dale's first sniping ice bolt, and the remaining Orcs began to be on alert.
Dale pointed his finger at them again from his horse. He aimed, then opened his mouth.
"Ice Bullet."
──Taang!
Putting aside whether the pen is really mightier than the sword, a gun is at least stronger than a bow or crossbow. There was no particular difference between bullets and arrows.
A bullet of ice hit one of the Orc swordsmen.
A blow fired right below the pupil and through the skull beyond the eye socket.
"Go, young master!"
The knight, who felt death as he lay sprawled on the floor, turned his head and could not hide his shock.
"What on earth are you doing here! Come on──."
"There's nothing to worry about."
At him, who couldn't understand the situation and was talking gibberish, Dale got off his horse and smiled quietly.
"We are going to Jackson. I never abandon my loyal sword."
It had such a heavy resonance that it was hard to believe it came from a nine-year-old child.
"Young master…"
He was also one of the vassal knights who watched Dale's performance several times at the Duke's castle.
The world is unfair, and this child is proof of that absurd world.
Therefore, every time he saw Dale growing day by day, he had to smile bitterly at the unfair reality of the world, regardless of his loyalty. He left behind the dark emotions welling up inside his heart.
However, that same child is fighting the orc hordes alone for his own sake.
Dale turned his gaze towards the few surviving Orc swordsmen.
The morning air was very cool, but the wind did not blow. Nevertheless, the hem of Dale's black cloak began to flutter as if in a strong wind.
"Gaaaa!"
Dale's shadows rose like skewers from under his feet, facing the rushing blades of the Orc swordsmen.
The first form of the artifact 'Shadow Cloak'.
Shadow Blade.
Kaang!
It's scary to think that the shadow blade just deflected the orcs' swords.
'Eat it up.'
The shadows wrapped around the orcs' swords like living tentacles and began to slide towards their hands.
Sigh!
Several black snakes made up of shadow blades wrapped around the orc's wrist, cut it off, and rushed towards the body. Starting from the wrist, the shoulder, torso, and finally the neck were cut off. Green blood poured out from the cut place.
The sword of slaughter that Dale was showing went far beyond common sense. So much so that one wonders whether the child who was swinging the sword in the Duke's Castle was really the same person.
The sword of a knight who pursues Kendo is not just a sword.
It is a killer's blade filled with determination to take the opponent's life at all costs.
"Ice Bullet."
After manipulating the Shadow Cloak to slaughter the onrushing orcs, Dale stretched out his finger.
Taang!
What the fingertip pointed to was the last Orc swordsman. The corpses of the orcs sent in to hunt down one straggler knight were scattered around.
Dale turned his head. From afar, he looked towards the Orc troops maintaining a square formation with long spears to counter the cavalry's charge.
A few orcs in the front line readjusted their long spears and readied their stances for throwing javelins. However, nothing like a barrage of spears raining down on Dale occurred.
They just hurriedly adjusted the handle of their spears as if they were surprised by something.
Dale understood the meaning without difficulty and smiled softly. His own performance ended here.
"──All cavalry battalion, charge in full force!"
While smiling, Lord Helmut's roar was so loud that it seemed to split the ears.
The sound of the horses' heavy hooves continued behind them.
Across the two, the charge of the 'Black Cavalry,' the pride of the Duke of Jackson, began again.
In addition, the morale of the knights who were galloping with their cavalry lances was higher than ever.
The eldest son of a duke's family who risked his life and ran into battle for one knight. It was a wonder that is difficult to describe even with the words 'nobility's duty,' and it was a legendary saga itself.
Therefore, Dale's actions had the effect of literally pouring fuel on the fire of loyalty towards the House of Jackson in their hearts.
"For the House of Jackson!" "For Young master Dale!"
"Let's wipe out the orcs!"
"Charge!"
A storm of steel raged. It was a blow that felt like driving a wedge into a shield that was on the verge of breaking.
Dawn sunlight rose along the eastern ridge.
"Why did you recklessly head towards the enemy camp alone?"
After the battle with the orc group, that was his father's first question to Dale.
But it was never a tone of reprimand. This is just a question to test him.
"My father said."
That's why Dale answered without being embarrassed.
"He said that the Jackson knights here are the people I will lead in the future."
"…"
"A noble person has a corresponding noble duty."
Dale continued speaking calmly.
"As the one who will lead them in the future, I simply performed that duty."
"But it was still too reckless."
"If it was truly reckless, it wouldn't have been difficult for my father to stop me."
Dale answered. It was a truly bold answer.
"It wouldn't be a demanding task for my father to subdue that group of orcs."
"Hoo."
At that boldness, his father, the Duke of Jackson, smiled as if he was amused. It's just as Dale said. For the Black Duke, wiping out a thousand orcs would simply require a wave of his hand.
Still, he didn't do that.
"If you really put your mind to it like you said, wiping out the orcs in front of you won't be that difficult."
"Then why are you watching your own person die?"
Next, it was Dale's turn to ask.
"Do you want me to wipe out a horde of orcs with a single wave of my hand?"
"I was hoping to at least find a loyal knight for my father."
"They do not hold swords in the hope that they will be saved on the battlefield."
At those words, the Duke of Jackson continued speaking in a cold voice.
"Do you think it is the duty of a nobleman to step forward and save his subordinates whenever they are in danger and turn the tide of the war?"
"That's right."
To Dale's reply, the cold mockery returned. He even forgot that he was talking to a child of only nine years old.
"Our territory is exposed to incalculable threats every year."
It was the face of a great nobleman, unfamiliar to even Dale, and utterly ruthless.
"What do you plan to do next, using my power whenever that threat comes and using that power to maintain peace in the duchy?"
Next time.
"As the Duke after me, will you protect this territory with your own strength?"
And then again and again.
"Then what on earth is the need to train knights loyal to the House of Jackson?"
"That…"
"How will you take responsibility for them forgetting the sense of the battlefield and their blades becoming dull?"
In the face of cold realism, Dale was momentarily speechless and remained silent.
"In the face of threats to our territory, our Jackson knights endlessly sharpen their swords."
said the Duke of Jackson.
"When a threat they cannot handle finally comes, I will stop that threat."
As the head of the Jackson family, one of the greatest nobles in the empire.
"That is the 'duty of nobility' that the Jacksons must bear."
"…."
That was something that even Dale hadn't thought of. No, on the contrary, it hit the nail on the head because it was so straightforward. Didn't even he himself in his previous life act like that, with the title of commander-in-chief of the death squad?
'Then why did I try to save that knight?'
Once he got there, he was caught up in a suspicion that even Dale himself couldn't understand. Just to gain the loyalty of the knights who would later become his subordinates?
It was right then.
"──Nevertheless."
As if the cold expression on his face just now was a lie, the Duke of Jackson continued speaking in a softened voice.
"With your own will, you have carried out what you believed to be the 'duty of a nobleman' to the end."
Dale took a deep breath at those words.
"In the future, when you inherit this ducal family and turn to 'noble duties' in the name of the Duke of Jackson, ."
A future that Dale cannot even imagine today.
"Which one of our beliefs was right will be something you will realize in the future."
"Father…"
"Let's go back to the castle."
Each person has their own path. As if he was about to say that, the Duke of Jackson silently turned his back after saying that.
And at the place where the Duke of Jackson turned his back, there were 'two hundred and fifty' knights waiting for the two of the Jackson family.
Charging fervently towards Duke Jackson... No, towards 'Dale of Jackson', pledging repeatedly with a heart that cannot restrain the desire, willingly vowing to sacrifice their own lives