Building a Kingdom and Conquering the World-Chapter 114 "You are younger and shouldn’t be looking at an elder from so high up, right?"

The sharp blade was stained with Luther's blood but failed to sever his hand, thanks to Luther's skillful and timely use of Mana. The old general managed to create a protective layer around his hand right when the sword was about to touch him. It was proof of his extensive battle experience and mastery over Mana.

Noticing his attack had failed, Alonso tried to pull his sword back and cut off the old man's hand, flooding his circuit with Mana. However, even after spending a significant portion of his Mana, Luther retained enough strength to handle a lone Fifth Stage Warrior, able to easily suppress him.

"Ahhh!" – Alonso shouted as a blueish aura covered his body. However, despite channeling every ounce of strength to pull the sword, the blade remained immobile in the enemy's grasp, like a futile attempt to move an entire mountain out of its place of rest.

Suddenly, Alonso felt the sword's handle abruptly twist in his grasp, like a rope burning his hand, as Luther's figure rotated rapidly, blurring before his eyes. And, at that moment, the sound of something tearing through the freezing air reached his ears, like a spear hurtling toward his head.

Alonso's danger sense, inactive ever since he inherited the throne, suddenly jolted back to life, like an emergency siren warning of an inevitable tragedy about to strike. It was so intense that Alonso instinctively ducked, loosening his grip on the sword as he felt his right knee sink slightly into the snow beneath him.

At that precise moment, when his knees touched the cold and soft snow, Alonso felt something brushing past his hair and hitting the crown atop his head. From the corners of his eyes, he saw the golden glow of his crown, the symbol that accompanied all previous rulers of Aritreia, disappearing into the grey forest that surrounded the whole White Merchant Road.

However, Alonso had no time to mourn or be angry at the sudden loss of this herloom. Sensing another attack coming at him, the crownless king swiftly shifted his body, directing his energy to his knee and feet. In a strange movement, he jumped backward, dodging Luther's punch, which had descended toward him like a powerful hammer about to hit the hot iron on an anvil, sinking his fist into the snow.

Alonso's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and fear as he stabilized his body only a few steps away from the old man, who slowly withdrew his sunken fist from the blanket of snow in an almost emotionless act.

"He seems weaker, only slightly stronger than a Fifth Stage, but I can't defeat him alone" -Alonso thought to himself as he opened and closed his hands, feeling a burning pain in his palms due to the abrupt rotation of the sword when Luther twisted his body while firmly holding the sword in his grip.

He could never defeat the old general by himself without putting his own life on the line, akin to a pawn sacrificing itself. At this moment, Alonso finally understood why his father and the king of Luak had never dared to invade Stahl and seize its mines. There was a monster watching over it and killing it would come at an enormous price, and those egocentric and bucolic nobles would never sacrifice their lives for the greater good of the king or the kingdom. No person desired to jump to their deaths, not even with a mountain of gold laying before their eyes.

"Latrel... I will hang your entire lineage on top of the walls and place your cursed head under my throne." - Alonso cursed the person who had sworn loyalty to him but abandoned him as soon as he charged towards an unrecognizable future.

If Latrel and the other nobles had assisted him, the odds would have been in his favor. "I will also extirpate the families of those traitors" - Alonso cursed, remembering the faces of the other nobles who betrayed him, promising to get revenge – "I can't win, I need to retreat."

Alonso's eyes quickly scanned the surrounding, searching for a way out, a way to retreat with his life. He didn't want to die here; it wasn't worth it. He decided to retreat and wait for the future. The old man was old, and he would only live for another twenty years. There was time. He only needed patience.

However, when he took away his gaze from the old man and surveyed the surroundings, a sense of desperation overcame him. Most of the nobles who had joined him in his charge against Stahl's cavalry laid lifeless on the white blanket of snow. The breathing ones were caught in a desperate struggle, trying to break free from a tight encirclement, overwhelmed by the superior numbers of Stahl, nearly nine times their size. Their fates were already sealed, and it was a matter of time before they met their ancestors.

Alonso then turned to the other side, hoping to see the huge army that accompanied him from Aritreia, assembled with villagers and other trained troops that didn't hold the title of nobles. However, all he encountered were his retreating forces and hundreds of lifeless bodies scattered on the white blanket of snow, their scared eyes covered by the gentle falling snowflakes. Not a single corpse could be sent intact to their families; some had arrows lodged in their backs and chests, while others bore ghastly injuries inflicted by swords.

Those who survived seized the window of opportunity created by Alonso to escape, running as fast as they could, paying little heed to the king's life or death. The once-narrow White Merchant Road, previously packed with his mighty army, was now filled only with the painful and desperate cries of those loyal nobles that followed him.

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The image of the surroundings left Alonso desperate, allowing him to understand that his chances of getting help were inexistent. He was a king, but without the presence of one.

"It seems you didn't inherit the loyalty of your soldiers or nobles from your father. I pity you, truly. It reminds me of my liege..."- Luther's voice reached him as if he were whispering right next to his ears, causing Alonso's hair to stand on end - "But well, he is not such a pitiful person anymore."

Alonso quickly turned his gaze back to where the old man stood, only to be met by two gleaming red eyes, resembling a burning abyss ready to embrace a new sinner soul. The old man's pristine white hair now bore stains of warm blood, like the everlasting snow of the north.

Alonso's eyes unconsciously darted to the surroundings behind the old man, and his vision settled on Biff, the burly noble who had aided him before, lying lifeless on the ground. Biff's head was detached from his body, his vacant eyes unaware that life had already left him, not understanding how he died.

Alonso couldn't help but swallow hard. He was about to open his mouth when Luther's bloody hand clamped over it, forcing him down on his knees until he was a level lower than the old man. In this position, Alonso could only gaze up and see Luther's face. frёeωebɳovel.com

"I am getting old, and my back hurts..." - Luther's voice echoed like the voice of a demon as the old man gave off a laid-back smile - "You are younger and shouldn't be looking at an elder from so high up, right?"

The fear within Alonso's eyes was palpable, almost visible to the outside world as he gazed up at the old man, whose smile resembled that of a loving grandfather.

"Hmmm! Hmmm!" - Alonso's voice was muffled by Luther's bloody hand, and when he attempted to open his mouth, the strong taste of iron invaded him. It felt horrible.

The terrified and desperate eyes of the King of Aritreia betrayed his previous action of courage, a king who dared to charge at the most powerful warrior in these northern parts. Now, he didn't hold the countenance of a king that ruled over countless lives, he looked like a small mortal being who desired nothing more but to live.

Alonso wanted to join the chorus of his soldiers and beg for forgiveness, plead for his life. However, Luther's hands tightly held his chin and prevented him from uttering a single word, only his eyes seemed to tell and ask to be spared.

Alonso could feel the old man's Mana surrounding his arm, its quality surpassing his own. Despite his desire to summon his Mana and counterattack, the Mana emanating from the old man infiltrated his body, slowly obstructing his circuits, rendering him unable to get away from this situation.

"Come on, you don't need to look at me with such fear." - Luther said, his voice now serious and filled with killing intent, like a demon descending on the battlefield - "I will not kill you, as my liege might need you in the future. And don't worry, the blood and the corpses of those who betrayed you will only serve as nourishment for my liege's lands. Not even one of them will escape, they are far away from home. However, this small favor doesn't mean that your future will be easy."

Luther's hands clenched Alonso's chin tighter, breaking his jaw in a loud cracking sound. It seemed so loud that it drowned all the sounds from the battlefield - "You dared to enter my liege's lands; don't expect to leave without missing a single piece."