The Sword Emperor Transmigrates

Hmm, it’s closer to Bright Sound Transmission, isn’t it? Though I exposed my presence significantly during the spar with Izmel, Wade not only located my position but also transmitted a telepathic message without any perceptible delay.

Indeed, even among the commanders, this was a level of prowess that set him apart as a monster of a different league.

Leonard marveled at the technique but promptly followed Wade’s instructions. Activating his lightness art, he leaped forward in a single bound, covering dozens of meters in just a few strides, heading directly for the office.

Since a red alert had been issued, breaking the usual speed regulations was of little concern. After all, if military discipline were so rigid as to hinder the army itself, it would truly be putting the cart before the horse.

In less than a minute, Leonard reached the office and announced, “Did you call for me?”

“Mmm.” Wade nodded, seated as usual at his desk, unshaken by something as dramatic as a red alert.

“It seems you’ve adapted well to the Order of the Red Dragon,” he remarked, signing a few documents and setting them aside before turning his golden, glassy eyes toward Leonard.

Those eyes revealed no emotion and glimmered faintly like clear crystal. This man was the commander of the Order of the Red Dragon, the strongest knightly order within the Cardenas family.

The man’s lips moved with an air of casual indifference, “You not only helped William overcome his stagnation, but you’ve also exceeded my expectations several times. To be honest, I’m a bit taken aback.”

“I wasn’t complimenting you,” Wade retorted, immediately increasing the tension in the room. “While I’m certainly grateful for what you’ve done for my son, your presence in the Order of the Red Dragon is both an asset and a disruption. The frequency at which our knightly order takes on missions necessitates our units to have more cohesion and skill than the units of the other knightly orders. While your addition undoubtedly enhances our unit’s capabilities, the disharmony it introduces is unavoidable.”

Unlike individual excellence, the elite coordination of a unit becomes more exclusive as its efficiency increases. After all, its tactical superiority relies on being inscrutable to outsiders, from silent hand signals and formation adjustments to seamless cooperation without verbal communication.

This level of cohesion required time and effort, regardless of one’s individual strength or power.

“…There’s no helping it, then,” Wade murmured, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. “You’ll continue to follow me directly. You can expect to frequent only the most perilous zones of the Corroded Realm. Will that be acceptable?”

The role of a knight commander was to counteract Demigod Tier threats. Merely staying by such a figure’s side was inherently life-threatening. But for Leonard, this was no deterrent. In fact, it granted him a legitimate excuse to stay close to Wade, whom he believed held the key to unraveling the mystery of the Yellow Dragon.

“Of course. I’m not so poorly trained that I can’t take care of my own life,” Leonard replied without hesitation.

“Hmm.” Wade donned a faint smile that vanished almost immediately. Then, in a voice devoid of emotion, he said, “I assume you don’t know the specifics of this red alert.”

“That’s correct.”

“Let me explain briefly. I’ll only say it once, so make sure you remember every detail.” Wade picked up a report from his desk. “The source of this red alert is a Corroded Realm called Nastrond, which translates to ‘Corpse Shore’ in the ancient tongue. It is a domain of an Outer God said to have felled the World Tree in the distant past.”

“If it’s Corpse Shore… that suggests that Undead will appear,” Leonard deduced.

“Exactly. Nastrond is notorious for ensnaring souls tainted by sin and torturing them for eternity. Consumed by hatred for the living, these souls will inevitably attempt to escape Nastrond by seizing the bodies of the living.”

As Wade described the enemies they would face in Nastrond, he retrieved an ancient document.

The Outer God who ruled Nastrond had once sunk its venomous fangs into the roots of the World Tree, Yggdrasil. It was an Outer God actively encroaching upon the world, one that previous generations of the Order of the Red Dragon had painstakingly studied to pass on a considerable amount of information.

This ancient document detailed these findings.

“The Outer God ruling over that domain is known as Nidhogg—‘The Hateful Attacker’ or ‘The Scornful Slayer’—and he has a dragon-like form. Outer Gods rarely descend directly into a Corroded Realm due to the extreme corruption levels required, so there is a low chance of encountering him on this expedition.”

This did not mean that the Corroded Realm would be less dangerous. If an Outer God descended directly, the entire empire would be in jeopardy, not just the Cardenas family. Encountering the god’s avatars or apostles would demand the full mobilization of the Order of the Red Dragon.

Leonard, who had experienced the overwhelming presence of an Outer God while in Atlantis, understood just how insurmountable such a foe could be. Its presence alone, devoid of malice or hostility, had immobilized countless Master Rank warriors. Against such an entity, even a Demigod Tier expert stood no chance against it.

“According to the ancient document, Nidhogg commands seven apostles, each a Demigod Tier beast. If anything within this Corroded Realm could serve as its core, these apostles are the likeliest candidates. Judging by the corruption levels, we estimate that no more than two are present.”

Even the Outer God apostle they had defeated in Atlantis, Pablo, had been a mere plaything compared to Nidhogg’s true apostles, who had served him loyally since the ancient era.

Leonard cautiously asked, “If there are two Demigod Tier beasts, shouldn’t we request support from the knight commanders of the other orders?”

“We’ve already requested reinforcements. They’ll arrive within the hour,” Wade replied. “I’m referring to the Wickeline family, not our Cardenas family. In large-scale battles, Grand Magi are more effective than knight commanders.”

“You don’t mean… a Class 9 mage is coming?” Leonard exclaimed.

“Precisely.”

Just as the Cardenas family had Demigod Tier knight commanders, the Wickeline family had Class 9 Grand Magi. These were the mages who had founded and led the Arcane Society. There were five in the current generation, and they were collectively revered and known as the Pentagon. In terms of utility, they surpassed the Demigod Tier, offering unparalleled versatility and value aside from killing or destroying enemies. They were a more valuable resource than knight commanders.

“Let’s go. With almost the entire Order of the Red Dragon deploying, we can’t afford to waste more time.”

“Understood,” Leonard responded.

As Wade left the office, Leonard followed closely, suppressing the growing curiosity bubbling within him. A Class 9 Grand Magus—a being who transcended mortal limits from an entirely different perspective than a Demigod Tier knight. Leonard had never encountered high-level shamans or sorcerers even in his past life; they were truly unfamiliar to him.

* * *

An hour after the red alert was issued, the Red Dragon Knights’ garrison was abuzz. Nearly a thousand personnel had assembled on the parade ground. Among them were over two hundred official members in the Transcendence Tier, and the rest were apprentice knights at the peak of the External Force Tier.

This force alone could obliterate all nations outside the Arcadian Empire and still have power to spare.

It was this very knightly order that had dispatched just ten knights to raze the Kurdish Kingdom to the ground, punishing them for audaciously sending a kidnapping squad to the Galapagos Island. No further explanation was necessary.

…The tension is palpable. With so many gathered here, one would expect a surge of confidence, but the mere mention of the Corroded Realm had stirred such dread.

Even the seasoned Red Dragon Knights, hardened by countless battles, wore grim expressions. It was said that when a Rift intensified and transformed into a Corroded Realm, the danger level did not increase by one or two levels but leaped by nearly ten.

Anyone who had entered a Corroded Realm and returned alive would never forget the experience.

Leonard recalled a conversation he’d had with William.

“Entering a Rift feels disconcerting, but the Corroded Realm is on another level. It’s as though you’ve stepped into the maw or stomach of an Outer God. The whole world feels as if it’s poised to devour you. You can’t trust the ground beneath your feet, and even the air seems laced with poison, making you hold your breath involuntarily.”

This world’s laws, which governed and nurtured all life, never actively opposed or suppressed anomalies such as unique traits and the like. They simply strove to restore balance.

External laws operated differently. The Corroded Realm perceived intruders as impurities, much like a stomach that digests food. Its mechanisms seek to dissolve and eliminate anything foreign. Those who’d experienced this hostility from the world would never forget the sheer terror.

It’s said that anyone who isn’t properly trained can lose their sanity within minutes of stepping into the Corroded Realm.

As he imagined the incomprehensible dread, Leonard scanned the faces of the Red Dragon Knights lined up in formation. From his position behind Wade on the platform, he inadvertently looked down at the assembled warriors.

“There’s no need for grand speeches,” Wade said, his voice as steady as ever. “Just carry out the duty we’ve always had. Some of you may die or be injured. Some of you might never see the faces of those beside you again. It’s a familiar yet deeply unpleasant truth.”

For Cardenas knights, death was an ever-present companion. Even in Rifts far less dangerous than a Corroded Realm, casualties were common.

Many Red Dragon Knights had lost a friend they’d once shared drinks with or felt the warmth fade from a comrade’s back as they fought together. Yet the resolve in their eyes never wavered.

“But just as we always have,” Wade continued, “we will cut down those fools in the beyond and return victorious.”

There were no cheers. No one was roused to erupt with emotion.

The thousand Red Dragon Knights simply accepted his words as a given because Wade, who’d never known defeat, had spoken to them. They trusted implicitly that any battle he led would end in victory.

“Hmm.” Wade turned his gaze in a particular direction.

Leonard was the first person to react after him. The world’s laws were distorting, imperceptible to normal senses. When its form began to resemble a spatial portal, someone’s presence abruptly materialized.

Reinforcements from the Wickeline family had arrived.

“Yaaawn…”

The figure who stepped through the shimmering distortion of space had long jet-black hair like polished ebony. A broom absurdly large for her petite frame dangled from her back, and a pointed hat obscured her face. Some could have thought of a witch when they saw her.

The Wickeline Grand Magus, looking drowsy, said, “Hello, Wade. It’s been sixteen years and three months.”

Though she looked like a teenager, her attitude toward Wade betrayed her true age. She was likely someone of equal or near-equal status.

Wade’s expression didn’t change. “Cruella. I thought you might show up.”

“Well, if it’s Nastrond, it means Undead. Who else but me could handle it?”

“You’ve memorized all the spatial coordinates for the Corroded Realm, I assume?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then open the spatial portal. We’re heading out immediately.”

With a look that suggested that she found everything a chore, Cruella pulled the broom from her back. It seemed the broom functioned as a staff.

“Huh?” The moment her eyes met Leonard’s, her previously drowsy gaze sharpened.

Leonard’s Dragon Eyes reacted instinctively.

This is?!

There was a saying, “When you look deeply into someone, they look deeply into you too.”

Sight itself could establish a connection. Even an ordinary person without heightened senses could often feel when they were being stared at. For a Class 9 Grand Magus like Cruella and a knight like Leonard with Dragon Eyes, no further explanation was needed.

Though it lasted only seconds, the exchange of information between the two was immense.

This is absurd. She’s lived for at least 400 years?! While the paths of mages and knights differ, such longevity approaches immortality.

Realizing Cruella’s true nature, Leonard involuntarily stepped back.

But Cruella closed the distance and donned an incongruously playful smile. “An exceptional talent, aren’t you? Not just ‘eyes,’ but ‘heart’ too? Even the dual layers in your soul’s age rings intrigue me. No wonder Wade keeps you close—it all makes sense now.”

As Leonard was hesitating to respond, she said, “Let’s talk later. I’m looking forward to it.”

She then refrained from pressing further.

Cruella turned back toward Wade and began twirling her broom in the air, humming a tune. Leonard could tell this wasn’t idle behavior.

…It’s some kind of incantation. The world’s laws are trembling. She doesn’t even appear to be exerting herself.

This was different from the Multi Teleport spell shown by Calantha or the Mass Teleport Leonard had previously experienced.

The magic circle of a Class 9 Grand Magus was beyond even Leonard’s comprehension, despite him possessing a Dragon Heart. After all, magic at that level was nearly indistinguishable from what ancient dragons once wielded.

“Warp!”

At Cruella’s invocation, the spatial magic enveloped every knight in the parade grounds, teleporting nearly a thousand individuals across thousands of kilometers.

Before Leonard could comprehend the spell’s sheer scale, he was sucked into the portal’s shimmering vortex.

Through the narrowing field of vision, he caught one last glimpse of Wade’s calm expression.

Thus began the expedition to the Corroded Realm Nastrond.