The Legendary Spearman Returns-Chapter 235Side Story

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Side Story Chapter 235

A series of loud explosions pulled Anna back to consciousness. She slowly opened her eyes, but quickly turned deathly pale.

“Nnngh... Wh-What in the world...?”

Every part of her body still hurt terribly—backlash from one of the strongest elemental spirits ever brought to Igrant being violently un-summoned. However, what Anna’s bleary eyes were showing her made her forget all of that.

“The Demon Realm...?”

It was hell on earth. The entire tunnel was scorched black; some places still smoldered like embers here and there. However, not a single spark had landed near Anna, as if she were surrounded by a wall.

There was only one possible explanation for all of this.

“...Kireua!” Anna immediately began running. It didn’t take long for her to reach the end of the tunnel.

Anna slowly came to a halt when she saw Kireua lying on the ground, entangled with an exceedingly beautiful young woman.

“That little shit.” Anna gave Kireua a death glare. She’d coughed up blood, fallen unconscious, and still came running for Kireua, and yet, he looked like he’d just had a good time with another woman.

“Alright,” Anna declared as she rolled up her sleeves. “Today is the day you die, Kireua.”

Just as she was about to lift her foot, a shiver ran down Anna’s spine. She froze.

‘Murderous energy!’

Anna slowly turned, trembling like a mouse in front of a snake, and realized that the murderous energy was coming from the woman. She was telling Anna not to interrupt her.

‘For crying out loud! It’s our first time meeting each other, so what’s her deal!’

Anna had to hold in a scream.

The mysterious woman was strong. Well, not many people could kill one of Anna’s elemental spirits, after all. Despite Anna’s indignation, it was time to retreat—or it would be, in normal circumstances; if Kireua was in danger, Anna couldn’t walk away even if it cost her her life.

A storm erupted around Anna.

“That one over there is my man,” Anna said, her teeth bared. “Why don’t you get away from him now?”

The woman stayed silent. Anna began summoning more of her elemental spirits.

‘If I go back right now, Joshua Sanders will kill me for sure,’ she thought, denying the emotions surging within her.

At that moment, Kireua pushed the woman away and stood up.

“Stand down, Anna.”

“Hey! Are you okay?”

Kireua nodded. “Of course.”

Anna heaved a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been able to get a good look at Kireua; now she could tell he was covered in scorch marks.

“What do you want from me?” Kireua demanded from the woman.

The woman tilted her head.

“Why did you save me?” Kireua asked.

The woman took three steps away from him and raised her fists, drawing her mana into her arms. She shook her head, sending her ponytail bouncing from side to side.

“I don’t want to be called a coward after I win.”

“...I didn’t know there was still a martial artist in Hubalt with honor,” Kireua murmured.

From the level of the woman’s mana, Kireua was certain that the woman in front of him was stronger than any of Hubalt’s knights he had met so far—although Bel was, of course, an exception. His martial prowess was unmeasurable.

“What is your name?”

“Isaac,” the woman answered.

Her name was unique—rather masculine—but Kireua learned one more important fact from her introduction. The names of Hubalt’s paladins usually ended with “-an,” which meant that she wasn’t from the Great Temple.

“And you aren’t Joshua Sanders,” Isaac abruptly said.


“Don’t feign innocence. The only reason I’m answering your question is to verify your identity.”

Kireua was silent for a moment.

“If you’re confident, then why don’t you find out yourself?” he teasingly asked.

Isaac raised two fingers. “I have two reasons why I believe you aren’t the real man.”

Kireua was curious enough to hear her out.

“The first reason is that the Martial God wouldn't be anywhere near as weak as you.”


“The second reason,” Isaac continued, as if her hurtful comment meant nothing, “is that I heard your lover there calling you ‘Kireua’.”

“L-Lover?” Anna stammered.

Kireua simply shrugged. “I can’t deny that.”

“Can I take that to mean my speculations are correct?”

“You aren’t going to believe me anyway, are you?”

The woman paused for a moment to sort out her thoughts.

“Are you Kireua Sanders, the Second Prince of Avalon, and the Martial God’s Son?”

“Yes, I’m Kireua Sanders.”

“Hey!” Anna snapped, taken aback. “You shouldn’t say yes right away!”

“You saw everything. We’ve been made.”

“You should’ve played dumb until the end regardless. The Combat Emperor is working his ass off right now. Are you trying to waste the old man’s efforts?” Anna demanded, narrowing her eyes.

The reason why Anna was angry right now was the effort they’d put into their diversionary operation. Kireua, wearing the Martial God’s face; the Combat Emperor; and the other knights were going to conquer the land around Hubalt’s capital one plot at a time. The army in the palace would eventually sally out to stop them, weakening the security in the palace.

That was where Anna and Kiruea came in: they would infiltrate the palace to cut off the head of the Emperor of Hubalt—but they had been compromised before even getting into the palace.

“It’s fine.” Kireua shook his head.

“What, exactly, is supposed to be fine?”

“Ask your elemental spirits. This woman here is the only one here except for us.”

“...That means...”

“Once we kill her, no one will know we’re we’re.”

“You’re going to kill me? Not happening.”

Kireua smiled crookedly in reply. “I wonder where your confidence is coming from, Isaac.”

“You already know where.”

Kireua somehow knew that Isaac’s arms had moved slightly. He furrowed his eyebrows and followed his instincts.

The moment Kireua raised his sword, a mana strike fired from Isaac’s fist slammed into the blade.

“...Oh.” Isaac’s eyes gleamed sharply. “You know a thing or two about fighting, huh?”

“Let me ask you a question before we begin fighting. How are you related to Bel?”

Isaac’s face twisted, the first expression she’d made the entire time. “Don’t... ever mention his name in front of me.”

“Come on. It’s weird. You use close combat techniques that are exactly the same as Bel’s, and you expect me to not—”

Dozens of punches howled through the air so fast they sounded like one.

Kireua swung his sword hard. Compared to the barrage of mana strikes coming at him, Kireua used only one. But then, Kireua’s attack was somehow divided into several strands.

Their mana crashed into each other in the air.

‘He... He’s stepped into the next level!’ Anna trembled with excitement. It took at least an advanced Master to divide a mana strike after it had been launched.

Kireua’s level came as a surprise to Isaac as well.

“You’re not a hopeless weakling after all.”

“So I’m a weakling who has a hope of getting better?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Isaac agreed before readying her fists again.

“Hold on!” Kireua quickly raised his hand.

“...What is it now?”

“You seem to have a grudge against Bel just like me—”

When Kireua mentioned Bel again, Isaac unleashed a great wave of murderous energy.

“Wait, wait! I can give you three reasons to let me go!” Kireua hastily shouted.


“What do you think? Are you interested?”

Isaac growled. “What kind of bull—”

“Why are you in such a rush? Don’t you have a lot of time right now? From the looks of it, you have to stay in this dank cave even after you kick me out, don’t you?”

Kireua’s incisive analysis quelled Isaac’s anger.

Kireua grinned. “Just give me five minutes to persuade you.”

* * *

In the palace’s council chamber, Kurz’s fury kept the nobles from lifting their heads, though they exchanged nervous glances.

“What in the world are you all doing?” Duke Jook shouted at them. “All you have to do is locate Joshua Sanders, not capture him. What is so hard about that?”

“Umm... we found the location of the Combat Emperor and the rest of the invaders, but Joshua Sanders’s whereabouts are unknown.”

“We don’t need the others! Finding the Martial God is our only objective right now! Do you really not get it?”

“Your Grace, why don’t we send more troops out to the streets? Since our elite forces must remain in the Palace, we only have common soldiers to work with,” one of the nobles whined. “There’s a limit to what we can get done.”

Jook's eyes lit up. He was waiting for someone to suggest that.

“Your Majesty,” Jook cautiously began, “although I’m ashamed to say this, perhaps we should send more troops into the field? The fact that the Martial God is nowhere to be seen bothers—”

“...No, I think this may have been his plan all along.” Kurz shook his head.

“...My lord?”

“He’s always been like this. After creating a diversion to empty out his target’s home, that damned Martial God robbed them blind.”

The nobles' eyes widened.

“Then is he...?” Jook trailed off.

“Hmph. He’s waiting for us to send more troops from the palace. The Martial God is just a coward. He won’t even show up here otherwise.”

“Indeed!” The nobles nodded their heads fervently in agreement.

Kurz relaxed into his throne, confident that he’d figured out the Martial God’s endgame.

“His plan will be useless so long as we maintain our course. Once he sees his people being hunted one by one in the meantime... Hehehe. It’ll be quite a sight.”

Reinforcements were coming to the capital from nearby military camps. Thousands of elite soldiers and knights were going to arrive at the capital in three days.

“No matter how smart he tries to be, I’m still one step ahead of him. Hehehe.”

“A magnificent deduction, Your Majesty! I never expected the Martial God’s plan to be this cowardly...”

“We’ve been too scared of the Martial God. Well, it’s not like he really fought the army of a million people head-on, did he?”

“All he did was run away from them. Gosh, why in the world have I been so worried about a guy like that...”

The fact that the Martial wasn’t going to show up boosted the nobles’ spirits and made Kurz’s smile grow.

Then a black aperture suddenly opened in the empty wall behind the throne, admitting a handsome man with black hair who absolutely under no circumstances ever should have been there.

He walked boldly up to the throne and declared:

“Not necessarily.”

Kurz’s jaw dropped to the floor. “Jo-Joshua Sanders?”

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