No one could have imagined that the Berserker's phantoms could attack from all directions.
The four phantoms closed in with fierce axe strikes, slashing at Amy's shoulders, waist, and legs simultaneously. From the front, the real Berserker let out a ferocious roar, his blood-red eyes reflecting off the similarly crimson blade of his axe. He brought it down with the searing intensity of molten iron.
"Ah…" A few rare girls in the tavern screamed, covering their eyes.
"I summon you in my name, come forth—Snow Wolf!" Behind a massive barrier, Chi Hanfeng gripped his spear and shield, ready to jump in and aid Amy.
"Don't help me!" Amy shouted, still in the midst of the attacking axe shadows. He moved in an astonishing way, flipping backward with a hollow twist and leaping out of the encirclement.
Crackling sounds followed as the Berserker's phantoms collided with Amy's Sword Phantoms. The phantoms shattered into fragments, each giving off a distinct, otherworldly sound as they broke.
Amy, wrapped in the arc of his black sword, slashed toward the Berserker. Caught off guard and unable to conjure more phantoms in time, the Berserker's battle axe swung wildly, creating countless ghostly images as it blocked Amy's blunt sword. Without pause, Amy's sword rebounded only half a meter before slashing down again with a thunderous howl.
Clang, clang, clang... one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight times…
Each strike came from the same direction, at the same angle, with the same blunt black sword. The sword's shadow flickered like lightning, leaving the Berserker no choice but to block, block, and block again. Every clash forced him back a step, granting just enough space for the next lightning-fast strike. Even a blunt sword, wielded with such force, could cleave a man in two.
The sword arced again, and with a sudden shift in angle, it formed a strange semi-circle, landing directly at the Berserker's abdomen. The Berserker's scream tore through the air, the black, icy flash of the sword chilling him to the bone.
"Two-handed sword—waist-level strike!" someone in the tavern exclaimed in awe.
The black flash vanished, replaced by a violent sword wind. Amy's sword swiftly rotated from horizontal to vertical, slamming into the Berserker's stomach with tremendous force. The impact launched the Berserker, along with his massive axe, crashing toward the tavern's doors, disappearing through them.
The tension in the tavern subsided as everyone finally exhaled.
A strange, inhuman howl erupted from below the Treehouse Tavern, piercing the snowy night and gripping everyone's hearts once more.
The massive tavern swayed like branches in a storm, its walls creaking under pressure. With a deafening crash, the west side of the building burst open as a massive figure burst inside, surrounded by a frigid wind.
"He's berserk! He's gone berserk!" came the terrified cries.
Thud, thud… Heavy footsteps marked the Berserker's return. He was aflame with a rage that seemed to have a physical form. His body had doubled in size, ripping his shirt to shreds. Every pore oozed red sweat, and a palm-wide purple scar marred his abdomen, where Amy's sword had struck. His blood-red eyes seemed about to burst from their sockets.
"You… all… will… die!" he roared. Ignoring the tables, chairs, and patrons in his path, the Berserker charged at Amy like an enraged bull, smashing the hardwood furniture to splinters as if it were paper.
"Damn!" For a split second, Amy recalled Chi Hanfeng's teachings about Berserkers in the context of combat units: if Berserkers were "war machines," then a Berserker in berserk mode was a terrifying "destruction machine." Berserk mode was a unique skill of Berserkers—selling their lives to the War God Petro to gain several times their usual strength. Some Berserkers who frequently entered this state could never return to normal. In this state, they ignored any ordinary attack—only decapitation could stop a Berserker. Commanders treated Berserker camps with extreme caution; Berserkers were strictly forbidden in typical siege warfare. Otherwise... if even a few Berserkers went berserk, what they'd get wouldn't be a city, but a wasteland.
It was Amy's first time away from home, his first battle, and he'd run into such a formidable opponent—it was like winning a twisted lottery. Gripping his sword, he watched as the black lightning flashed through the air once more, ready to strike…
"Enough…" A commanding voice rang out, and the enraged Berserker collapsed like a mountain into the wreckage of the tavern's furniture.
An elderly man stepped out from the Magic Guild, draped in a red robe bearing the insignia of an Archmage. "Where there are mercenaries, we can't prevent personal disputes. But when an exhibition match becomes a destructive war, that's something we don't wish to see. Please, everyone, let's applaud the brave warriors who gave us a free show of Sword Phantoms and Berserker Phantoms today. And don't forget the noble Beast Knight and his lovely phantom wolf—let's hear it for them, too." With that, the Archmage returned to the guild.
The Berserker's companions rushed over, trying to help him up, only to find he was as stiff as a stone.
"He's been petrified; he'll snap out of it in two hours," a mid-level mage helpfully informed them.
When an Archmage from the Magic Guild intervenes, no one without equal power dares to provoke them further. A few sprites quickly worked on the gaping hole in the wall, weaving restoration spells. The trees supporting the tavern responded, sprouting new branches to cover the breach.
Amy had always doubted the power of mages. Chi Hanfeng, a traditional knight, had little to say about mages in his lessons, emphasizing their roles infrequently. Seeing a seemingly invincible warrior instantly rendered defenseless left Amy stunned.
"Hey, snap out of it," Chi Hanfeng said, pushing a drink toward Amy. "Try this—Treehouse Tavern's signature Thousand Grass Leaf Infusion Wine. It's refreshing, beautifying, nourishing, invigorating, and even boosts recovery. Since your grandpa isn't here, I'll break the rules just this once."
"Actually, you don't need to be so surprised," Chi Hanfeng continued, seeing Amy's dazed look. "Today, we faced opponents we'd never typically encounter. The total Berserker population is only around four to five hundred thousand. Of those, fewer than a hundred thousand serve in military forces. Berserkers who can produce four phantoms? Less than five hundred. Five phantoms? Fewer than a hundred. Only about ten can produce six phantoms simultaneously, the highest level. As for Archmages, there are only five in the Amy Empire, one of whom is in the Wish Tower, leaving four. Across the realm, including those who live in seclusion, there are likely fewer than a hundred."
"Amy… did you hear me? When you become a Beast Knight, you'll be able to use your beast's levitation to easily slay Berserkers. Against Archmages, well... as long as he's not targeting you and your mount simultaneously, you can just run away…" Chi Hanfeng sighed, disheartened by the power of Archmages despite knowing how to face them.
"Mind if I sit here?" A withered, old, dirty, and blackened hand rested on the table.
"Pfft…" Having just been close to a gorgeous woman, Chi Hanfeng was unprepared for the sudden shift and spat his drink all over the hand's owner.
"No worries, I'm used to it, especially from you," replied the man under a head of foam-covered, matted white hair. It was another mage, but compared to the dignified Archmage from earlier, this one was… pitiful. His face was wrinkled, eyes sunken, with a hooked nose and thin lips. He wore what could only be described as a tattered blue mage robe, resembling a fishing net—marking him as a neutral mage. He carried a long, broken staff, the top of which had once held a magical gem… if he could even afford one.
"Come on, old man, pretending to be an Archmage, are we?" Chi Hanfeng, shaken by the stark contrast, yanked at the mage's frayed insignia. "If you're going to fake it, at least do it right. This symbol's wrong—see here, it should depict the neutral ocean, but yours shows a waterfall?"
"Young man, I'd like to ask you about someone," the old mage said warmly, ignoring Chi Hanfeng's rudeness.
"No idea!" Despite being a noble, Chi Hanfeng's facade quickly dropped, replaced by a crass impatience. He never dealt with matters that yielded no gain.
"Do you know Chi Ningyuan?"
"Uh?" Chi Hanfeng froze, then quickly shook his head. "No."
"Chi Liushui?"
"Nope." Chi Hanfeng kept shaking his head.
"Let me think," the old mage muttered, scratching his foamy head. "Chi… Chi Hongyun?"
"No…" Chi Hanfeng was caught mid-motion, gulping hard. "Well… actually, I do know him." His demeanor suddenly softened.
"You're a Chi too, aren't you? What's your name?"
"Chi… Chi Hanfeng."
"Ning, Liu, Hong, Yuan, Da, Han, Chang, Xiao… Han, Han. You little rascal, little rascal!" The old mage's skeletal hand suddenly swung up and smacked Chi Hanfeng hard on his flowing hair. "You dare tell me you don't know them? Have you forgotten your ancestors?"
Amy watched the scene unfold with a blank stare, his mouth hanging open in shock.
"Wow—so even Uncle Chi, who usually bullies others, has his day. This feels so good." He kept the thought to himself, though; saying it out loud was a risk he didn't want to take.
"I… I really don't know them! They've been dead for hundreds of years! You didn't ask if I knew about them!" For the first time, Chi Hanfeng, always so composed, pouted and protested like a child.
"Stop explaining—an explanation is just a cover-up." The old mage smacked Chi Hanfeng on the head again, twice as hard. "You're just as mischievous as your ancestor, Chi Ningyuan. I got soaked in Thousand Grass Leaf Infusion Wine right here at Treehouse Tavern because of him. Waiter, bring me a large cup of that wine, your best grilled chicken, and, let's see… a lovely waitress. Human, from the Aemynor Continent." After signaling the waiter, the old mage made a quick gesture—directed at Chi Hanfeng.
With a loud thud, Chi Hanfeng collapsed onto the table, his face cycling through a range of emotions: shock, disbelief, resentment, frustration, and helplessness, with a hint of nervousness, as if he wanted to flee but couldn't.
"Don't worry, everyone, he just had a bit too much to drink," the old mage said with a reassuring grin, calming the surrounding patrons.
"Hey, kid, how's it going?" The mage leaned toward Amy, his scraggly head suddenly very close.
"No… no… I'm not a Chi. I have no money, look…" Amy, having witnessed the Archmage's power earlier, quickly emptied his pockets, one by one, trying to pass the blame as fast as possible. "All the money's on him. We just met. No, we don't even know each other!" His innocent expression belied the frantic little black tail that wavered behind him.
"Oh, I just need to ask you about someone."
"Help! I'm being robbed!" The rapid succession of events had clearly overwhelmed the 14-year-old Amy. Despite his earlier bravery against the Berserker, the poor boy was at his limit, shouting desperately for help. But… his heart sank as he realized he couldn't make a sound.
In his mind, the image of the red-robed Archmage flashed by, and Amy instinctively tried to leap up to seek help—only to find that he couldn't move at all, just like what had happened to the Berserker earlier.
"Do you know Lake Haber?"
"I don't know anyone… Please, spare me… Dad, I want my dad," Amy mouthed, though no words escaped his lips.
The old mage seemed to understand. With a snap of his bony fingers, Amy found himself suddenly free, tumbling to the ground.
---
**Compendium of Weapons from the War of the Gods:**
Page 15, Column 2: *The Blade of Ice*
- *Type:* Two-handed greatsword
- *Length:* 1.6 meters
- *Original Weight:* 22.5 kilograms
- *Magical Attribute:* Ice
- *Mage Enhancer:* High Elven Mage of Ice, Aelrance
- *Special Attacks:* Randomly triggers Ice Blade (Level 1 Magic), Snowstorm (Level 2 Magic); within a snowy domain, can summon Frost Spears (Level 3 Magic); with sufficient mana, can call upon Frost Spear Barrage (Level 4 Magic); if bound to Aelrance, may wield Ice Dragon Fury (Level 5 Magic) and Icebound World (Domain, Forbidden Spell)
- *Note:* Early weapon of the Mercenary King, Lord Amy. Although listed in the compendium of the War of the Gods, he rarely wielded it during the war.
— *Compendium of Weapons from the War of the Gods*