Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest
Chapter 63: The Martial King (2)

Chapter 63: The Martial King (2)

When people talked about the strongest fighters on the Astralis continent, certain names always came up first.

The family heads of the eight great houses and the Eight Heroes of Astralis were the most famous. Among the current Eight Heroes, there was one man who stood out—the Mercenary King Kapali.

He was famous because he’d risen to that position as a commoner, with no connections to any of the eight houses. He was a legend in the mercenary world.

Kapali had brought all the scattered mercenary groups under his control and turned the Mercenary Guild from a simple job posting board into an organization that could compete with the great houses themselves.

He was truly a great man.

But even before the rise of the Mercenary King, there had been another man who took the mercenary world by storm.

One man, thousand arms—Martial King Hobbren Corvalis!

Unlike Kapali, he was a man who always worked alone and took on the hardest requests the guild had to offer. People said he had mastered every weapon under heaven, giving him the title "One Man, Thousand Arms."

But just as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared from the mercenary world, and no one knew what happened to him afterward.

’You’re telling me that’s the Martial King?’ Zain thought, gulping as he watched the old man in action.

The old man wielded a crossbow, axe, sword, shield, spear—whatever his hands landed on—and he handled them like he’d been practicing with them for decades.

And the cruelty... there was no mercy. He was a complete butchering machine.

The assassins, who all seemed stronger than Zain in zone level, were being massacred like ants.

And the old man didn’t even blink.

Seeing him, a flicker of fire seemed to be igniting in Zain’s heart for unknown reasons.

***

Marcus watched in growing horror as more of his men fell. The old man moved from weapon to weapon like he was switching tools for different jobs. Nothing seemed to slow him down.

"Surround him! Don’t let him pick us off one by one!" Marcus screamed.

Eight of his remaining fighters tried to circle the old man, coming at him from different angles.

But it didn’t matter.

Hobbren dropped his shield and pulled out two curved daggers from somewhere in his clothes. The blades gleamed as he spun them in his hands.

The first attacker came from the left, swinging a heavy sword. Hobbren ducked under the blow and opened the man’s throat with one smooth cut. Blood sprayed across the rocks as the fighter dropped.

The second and third came together from behind. Hobbren didn’t even turn around—he threw one dagger backward without looking. It caught the second man in the eye, dropping him instantly. Then he spun and caught the third fighter’s sword between his remaining dagger and his bare hand, somehow stopping the blade cold before driving his knee into the man’s stomach hard enough to lift him off the ground.

"Impossible," one of the surviving mercenaries whispered.

The fourth attacker hesitated, seeing his comrades fall so easily. That hesitation cost him his life. Hobbren picked up a fallen spear and threw it like a javelin, pinning the man to a tree trunk.

"Keep fighting!" Marcus yelled, but his voice cracked with fear.

Four more men rushed the old warrior. Hobbren grabbed an axe from a dead mercenary and a sword from another. Now he had a weapon in each hand again.

The first swing of the axe took off one attacker’s arm at the shoulder. The man screamed and fell, clutching the spurting stump. The sword caught the next fighter across the chest, cutting through his leather armor like paper.

The third man tried to stab Hobbren in the back. The old warrior twisted away from the blade and brought the axe down on the attacker’s head. The skull split like a rotten fruit.

The fourth fighter turned to run. Hobbren threw the sword, and it went right through the man’s back, coming out his chest. He took three more steps before collapsing.

’This isn’t human,’ Marcus thought, taking a step back. ’This is a monster wearing human skin.’

Only six mercenaries were left now, including Marcus himself. They’d started with twenty-eight skilled fighters. In less than ten minutes, the old man had killed over twenty trained killers.

"He’s just one man!" Marcus shouted, trying to rally his remaining troops. "We can take him!"

But even as he said it, he didn’t believe it. The survivors were backing away, their weapons shaking in their hands.

Hobbren looked at them calmly. He wasn’t even breathing hard. There was blood splattered across his clothes, beard and face, but none of it was his own.

"Five more," he said quietly, counting them. "This is getting boring."

One of the remaining mercenaries broke. He threw down his sword and ran for the valley entrance, screaming. Hobbren picked up a throwing knife from the ground and sent it spinning through the air. It caught the runner in the back of the neck, and he tumbled forward into the dirt.

"Four," Hobbren corrected himself.

The last four fighters looked at each other, then at Marcus. They were all thinking the same thing—this job wasn’t worth dying for.

But before they could surrender or run, Hobbren was moving again.

He grabbed a long spear from the ground and charged. The first mercenary tried to block with his sword, but the spear went right through his guard and his chest. Hobbren used the man’s body to knock down the second fighter, then pulled out the spear and stabbed downward, finishing him off.

The third man swung desperately with a mace. Hobbren caught the weapon’s handle, twisted it out of the attacker’s grip, and brought it down on his skull with a wet crunch.

That left only Marcus and one other fighter.

The last mercenary looked at the bodies scattered around the valley, looked at the blood-covered old man, and made his choice. He dropped his weapons and fell to his knees.

"Please! I surrender! I have a family!"

Hobbren walked over and looked down at him. For a moment, it seemed like he might show mercy.

Then he picked up a fallen axe and brought it down.

"Should have thought of that before you tried to kill someone," he said simply.

----***----