A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Bray froze when he saw the seashell embedded in the tire.

"What kind of seashell is this?" Bray took the seashell out.

However, after taking it off, the tire immediately deflated.

“…” Both Bray and Dorothea fell silent.

After a tire is punctured, never remove the puncture site, as it will cause air to leak out.

"Dorothea, you know how to fix magic vehicles, right?"

“If the engine blows up, I do have a way to fix it,” Dorothea said.

"But unfortunately, I don't know how to repair tires."

"..." Bray touched the bitter thing he had taken out with a wronged expression. This thing felt very hard to the touch. It wasn't the shell of a normal living creature.

So don't shed your shell everywhere.

“Let’s walk,” Bray said.

"..." Although Dorothea also got out of the car, the way she looked at Bray was as if she wanted to kill him.

"Have you noticed that we see Bronze-type creatures here less frequently than we did on the Western Continent?" Bray asked Dorothea behind him, stepping on the dry mud.

"I don't feel anything." Dorothea followed leisurely behind Bray with her eyes closed.

She didn't want to find her way, so she basically just followed wherever Bray went.

Of course, if Bray can't find a water source, Dorothea will have to consider coming herself.

“We’ve only seen the demon once since we came here from the shore,” Bray said.

"And it seems they didn't even pay attention to us, they just left."

That demon was quite lucky; if it had been trying to cause trouble for the two of them, it would probably be down there by now.

"I just want to find a place to take a bath. These little things don't matter," Dorothea said. She didn't care whether it was a demon or an angel; nothing was more important than finding her a place to bathe.

"Don't you have any weapons that can produce water?" Bray asked.

"For example, those that can cast water-based spells."

"Yes." Dorothea nodded. Her armory contained all sorts of weapons, including those that could manipulate water elements.

"Then why bother finding a water source? Just use the water produced by that weapon."

“Your life is utterly boring.” Dorothea opened her eyes and glanced at Bray.

"This is a form of rest."

"..." Bray was a little confused by Dorothea's words.

Well, he didn't understand why Dorothea was so insistent on taking a bath in a proper place.

If it were him, he'd probably just wash it with some water.

---

While Bray and Dorothea were still arguing about the water source, a battle was taking place in the nearby forest.

A brown-haired youth led a group of people, lying in ambush in the woods.

The young man was probably in his twenties.

The large swords crisscrossing behind the young man were particularly eye-catching.

However, the heavy greatswords seemed to be nothing to the young man; even running with them on his back was an easy task.

Everyone, including this young man, wore cloaks that could conceal their appearance.

They looked like a group of assassins.

However, they are not.

"..." The brown-haired youth made a gesture to the people behind him.

He held up three fingers.

Then I took one back.

Finally, they took one back.

After all the fingers were retracted, everyone roared and charged in a certain direction.

“Go back to your abyss!”

These people were charging towards a group of heavily armored demons.

The brown-haired youth drew two greatswords from behind him and charged to the front.

As the youth charged forward, the greatsword dragged across the ground, carving two deep furrows.

“They are rebels. (Demons and)” One of the heavily armored demons remained calm in the face of the sudden charge, instead speaking calmly to his companions.

“Ah, those foolish Black Iron races.” (Demon language) Another demon sneered.

"Thump!!!" A heavy thud rang out, and the demon's shield stood up neatly, then it raised its giant axe.

"Swoosh—" Those who charged forward were easily cleaved in two by the axe.

Of those at the very front, apart from the young man, none survived.

But the others behind him did not panic at all in the face of the bloody scene.

"Don't be afraid! Follow Carlogaris!" a man carrying a heavy cannon shouted to his companion.

"We have never been afraid!!!"

"Are you kidding me! We probably wouldn't be here!"

As if they were committing suicide, these people charged toward the demons.

Even though their weapons couldn't penetrate the enemy's defenses, they still managed to stab them, only to be killed by the demon's counterattack.

"What is this? A struggle?" (Demon language) A demon uttered a mocking voice after killing a vulnerable human.

"Shut up." But the words of the brown-haired youth beside him interrupted his mockery.

"You are not allowed to insult them." A black greatsword slashed down, and the demon's exquisite shield was easily torn apart as if it were made of paper.

Along with it was the rude demon who was torn apart.

"Boom!!!" After shattering the shield, the greatsword slammed into the ground with undiminished force, making a huge noise that shook the demons so much that they almost lost their footing.

"It's you! The leader of the rebels!!" A demon, recognizing the other party upon seeing the two black greatswords, roared in the Common Tongue.

Carlogaris, the last bulwark of humanity in the Middle Continent.

“I am not the leader, I am one of them,” Kalogaris said, shaking his head after severing Roar in two with his two greatswords.

After he finished speaking, he looked around and saw that there were about 100 people who had come with him.

But now only a few remain.

Is he the leader? No, he's not qualified.

Everyone knows they can't defeat the demon, yet they still fight alongside it.

These people knew from the beginning that they were not very useful; they were only there to create more opportunities for Carlogaris and prevent him from dying at the hands of demons due to any mistakes.

Kalogaris is very strong; he can fight these demons all by himself.

But even the strongest person will have a day when they make a mistake.

If that day comes, Carlogaris will die because of it.

Then all humanity in the Middle Continent would lose their last hope, which is something no one can allow.

Kalogaris was protecting them, and they were protecting Kalogaris with their lives.

If Carlogaris were a competent leader, he would have a way of preventing people from sacrificing themselves needlessly.

Unfortunately, he isn't, and he knows it himself, which is why he's frustrated.

"Nimije, are you still alive?" Carlogaris glanced at the man holding the heavy cannon.

"Boom!!!!" The man fired a shot, blasting away a demon that was trying to attack Carlogaris.

“Isn’t it normal for me to be alive?” Nimitz clicked his tongue.

"Don't look around. Everyone is waiting for you to come back. Don't die because of carelessness."

“I know.” Carlogaris swung his sword backhand, cleaving the last demon in two.

“I really know,” he said in a deep voice.

Carlogaris slowly sheathed his two greatswords and glanced at the corpses around him.

"That way, the demon's vanguard squad is dealt with."

“Their offensive can be slowed down for a few more days.” Nimitz and the few survivors picked up the demon’s equipment, intending to take it back to their base.

"Only a few days?"

“What else did you think?” Nimitz glanced at Carlogaris.

"You've done a great job. Even if there's a powerful demon, we won't be afraid with you around."

“But if it’s just me…” Carlogaris murmured.

"Alright, everyone, quickly move the demons' fighting gear back!" Nimitz glanced at Carlogaris and then changed the subject.

“We can get the blacksmiths to make something else.” “Swords alone probably won’t be enough to protect everyone,” Nimitz said to Carlogaris beside him, dragging the captured equipment.

“You’re right.” Carlogaris lowered his eyes, looking somewhat dejected.

No matter how sharp a sword is, it is still just a weapon used to kill enemies.

But people need more than just swords; they also need shields to protect them.

Carlogaris, however, was not that shield.

It should be said that no one can act as a shield for everyone right now.

“Don’t do that, you need to provoke him even more.” Nimitz slapped Carlogaris hard on the back.

"If you are enthusiastic, everyone will be enthusiastic; if you are frustrated, everyone will be frustrated."

"You might think this is an exaggeration, but it's true."

"..." Carlogaris fell silent; this burden was simply too heavy.

At the end of the Second Era, a large group of powerful beings emerged in order to survive.

The harsher the environment, the more likely it is to give rise to powerful individuals.

Perhaps adversity is more conducive to developing talent.

One after another, powerful Black Iron-type warriors emerged, forcefully pulling the Black Iron-type warriors back from the brink of death.

Without them, the Iron race would have been wiped out by the Bronze race long ago.

Kalogaris was one of the strongest among them, a standout among the powerful.

No matter how powerful the Bronze Saints were, none could defeat him; to this day, Carlogaris has never been seen to be defeated.

Therefore, he was placed in high hopes by the survivors of the Central Plains, who were even willing to risk their lives to defend that hope.

As long as Carlogaris exists, it means that someone in the Central Continent is capable of killing the Bronze Race, which also proves that the Bronze Race is not invincible.

Everyone has courage as long as it is not "invincible".

But no matter how strong your personal abilities are, it's useless.

An individual's strength cannot save the Black Iron race, because no matter how strong one person is, they cannot defeat a group of powerful beings.

The racial catastrophe facing the Dark Iron race today cannot be solved by individual heroism.

“I know you have a heavy burden.” Nimitz was a good friend of Carlogaris, and he understood that the man was carrying a heavy load.

Compared to those burdens, the weight of these two greatswords was nothing.

“So I think we need a ‘shield’,” Nimitz said with a smile to Carlogaris.

“Shield…” Carlogaris was a little surprised because Nimitz had the same idea as him.

“However, as a shield, an individual has its limits, so I want to create an organization.” Nimitz had envisioned an organization long ago.