Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 274

“Let’s regroup here,” Theo suggested.

Leaving the collapsed Holy Church branch behind, the group quickly retreated to a spot a short distance away from the entrance to steady themselves. Having stirred up the proverbial hornet's nest, it was critical to prepare for the incoming Holy Church forces.

Harald, visibly drained after his emotional outburst during the earlier assault, focused intently on re-centering his energy.

Wooong—

The silence was so profound that the low hum of Harald’s energy stabilization could be heard clearly. Though the Beastlands were naturally quiet, this level of stillness felt foreboding. Theo’s senses heightened, his body tensing instinctively.

“Hm.”

It was then that Lodbrok furrowed her brow, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

“What’s wrong?” Theo asked.

“The surveillance spells I set up as we entered are being systematically dismantled,” Lodbrok replied with a click of her tongue, scanning the surroundings with narrowed eyes.

The activation of these spells indicated that enemies were approaching, their proximity triggering the magical alerts. Yet it was the expression on Lodbrok’s face that concerned Theo.

‘They’re up to something.’

It was rare for Lodbrok to display such annoyance, which meant the enemy’s tactics were particularly vexing.

“They’re as irritating as ever,” Lodbrok muttered. “This reeks of elf handiwork. They’re applying pressure from all directions.”

She crossed her arms, visibly displeased. The issue wasn’t just the enemy’s approach—it was that their movements obscured the location of the Second Apostle.

While the number of approaching enemies was unknown, the group had no intention of engaging in an all-out battle. The plan had been simple: break through the enemy lines, kill the Second Apostle, and retreat. But the current situation was forcing a reconsideration.

Lodbrok closed her eyes briefly, sending out a wave of magical energy. When she reopened them, her expression darkened.

“They’ve amassed quite the numbers,” she said. “But they’re not charging in directly. They’re up to something.”

Her irritation was evident as she rubbed her temples.

“It seems they’re planning something troublesome. Each formation is engaging in some kind of activity, likely taught to them by the elves. Still, if I can get close, I can break through whatever tricks they’ve set up.”

Her confidence was reassuring, but Theo understood the danger of giving their opponents too much time. Lodbrok was right—the Second Apostle was likely baiting them, forcing their hand with the threat of suffocation by sheer numbers and relentless tactics.

“This is going to be exhausting,” Lodbrok sighed, detailing the enemy’s formations. Theo listened carefully, piecing together the Second Apostle’s likely strategy.

“It’s a war of attrition,” Theo deduced. “Each formation is positioned to ensure constant skirmishes, wearing us down until we’re exhausted. Then the Second Apostle will make their move.”

The enemy’s lack of a direct assault made sense in this context. Instead of overwhelming them with numbers, they aimed to chip away at their stamina through carefully orchestrated engagements.

‘The Second Apostle wouldn’t rely on such a basic strategy alone. The formations must serve another purpose.’

Theo couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more at play. Even with their numbers, the Holy Church disciples couldn’t hope to bridge the gap in power between themselves and warriors like Theo or Harald. The Apostle must have accounted for this disparity.

“If they’ve set up some kind of trick, I’ll dismantle it immediately,” Lodbrok assured them. “You focus on the fighting.”

“I trust you completely,” Theo replied with a nod.

Lodbrok grinned, seemingly satisfied. At that moment, Harald finished re-centering his energy and stood up.

“Well then, it’s decided. Let’s move.”

Harald hefted his massive axe onto his shoulder and naturally took the lead.

Crack—

The unsettling sound of Harald cracking his joints echoed through the clearing, like the breaking of bones. It was enough to make anyone wince.

“It’s not that I doubt you,” Harald said, turning to Theo. “I just prefer to take the lead so I can kill as many of them as possible. I trust you understand.”

“Of course,” Theo replied without hesitation.

Harald grinned broadly, baring his teeth, then turned his attention forward. With a deep inhale, his eyes lit up with fierce determination.

Roar!

Harald let out a thunderous battle cry that reverberated through the forest, shaking the leaves on the trees. It was a rallying cry, one that symbolized the Harald name.

‘His voice is incredible.’

Even standing behind him, Theo felt his ears ringing. As the echoes subsided, Harald charged ahead. It wasn’t long before they encountered the enemy, who had spread out to cover the forest like a swarm.

The disciples were gathered in a circle, seemingly focused on something at the center. Faint, shimmering lights began to glow in the area they surrounded.

Zing!

A sharp, piercing sound rang out, making Theo wince. The sight before him resembled a boar charging through a thicket, except the “boar” was a barrage of arrows aimed solely at Harald.

Whooom!

Harald swung his axe in a wide arc, shattering the arrows into splinters and revealing the enemies behind them.

“Kill him! That’s Van Harald at the front!”

“Execute the traitor!”

The word “traitor” made Harald flinch. It was as if someone had struck a nerve, igniting his fury.

“How dare you!”

His axe began to glow with a blue aura, its power surging like crashing waves. It was as if his emotions were manifesting in physical form, growing more volatile by the second.

“Who gave you the right to speak my name?!”

Boom!

A massive wave of energy exploded outward, sweeping away everything in its path. Trees, the ground, and even the disciples who had insulted him were obliterated in an instant.

Whizzz!

Before the dust could settle, another volley of arrows darkened the sky, blotting out the sun. This time, they weren’t aimed solely at Harald but rained down indiscriminately.

“They’re converging on us,” Theo observed. The earlier commotion and Harald’s roar had likely drawn reinforcements to their location.

Lodbrok casually raised her hand toward the sky, dispelling the arrows with a flick of her wrist before moving toward the area where the disciples had been gathered.

“Buy me some time,” she said, placing her hand on the ground to read the mana flow.

Thud-thud-thud—

Realizing her intent, the disciples rallied, drawing their weapons and forming a perimeter. Though individually weak, their overwhelming numbers made their intentions clear—they aimed to exhaust their opponents.

“So many of them,” Theo muttered.

The need to protect Lodbrok while holding off the endless waves of disciples limited their options. Wiping them out in one blow was not feasible.

“Kill them!” the disciples shouted, their cries echoing through the forest as blades clashed.

* * *

The once-dense forest had been reduced to an arena. Trees lay felled, and corpses were stacked high, forming makeshift barriers. Severed limbs jutted out from the debris like branches.

Despite the carnage, the disciples’ numbers showed no signs of dwindling. On the contrary, they seemed to multiply endlessly.

‘Where are they all coming from?’

Theo couldn’t help but feel as though they were fighting an army of ants. Any time he thought the swarm was thinning, more seemed to appear.

“Over here! Theo Ragnar and Van Harald are here!”

Shouts from the rear continued to draw more disciples into the fray. The sheer scale of the enemy force was almost nauseating.

Whizz!

“Are they insane?!”

Arrows rained down once more, this time ignoring friendly fire. Even disciples were pierced as the fanatics continued chanting.

“For the Holy Church!”

“Blessings to the Holy Church!”

Thunk-thunk-thunk!

Even as arrows riddled their bodies, the disciples continued to press forward, their fanaticism undeterred. Their zeal, bordering on madness, reminded Theo just how unhinged their opponents were.

“This just got more annoying.”

Theo spun his Deathbite daggers in a protective arc above his head to deflect the arrows, focusing his attacks on the disciples ahead.

Where’s Harald?

Harald, enraged by the suicidal attacks, unleashed an explosion of mana as he fought. Several arrows protruded from his body, but his momentum showed no signs of slowing.

Crack!

Suddenly, Theo felt a sharp stiffness in his body.

‘Fatigue? No... Is my body tensing?’

Though he questioned whether the relentless fighting had finally worn him down, Theo realized it wasn’t exhaustion. His body was unnaturally rigid, as if something in the air was affecting him.

Buzz!

A faint vibration pulsed from Lodbrok’s position.

“It’s done. Let’s go,” Lodbrok called, standing up.

The group moved forward, breaking away from the swarm of enemies. As they did, Theo realized the source of his unease.

‘It wasn’t tension... The air feels heavy.’

The subtle pressure in the atmosphere was almost imperceptible, but it was clear that Lodbrok had countered whatever effect was causing it.

As the disciples hesitated momentarily, Lodbrok’s influence seemed to disrupt their momentum. Theo could feel the shift in the air as they pushed forward.

‘The second formation, perhaps.’

Unlike the previous chaotic attacks, the next group of enemies had assembled in a tightly-knit, methodical formation. Within the ranks, an immense and ominous killing intent radiated outward, cloaked in eerie silence.

It was clear that this group had been designed for more than attrition—they were preparing for something far deadlier.