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“Well, it’s because the way people perceive warriors and mages is fundamentally different.”

“Different? In what way?”

“Are you seriously asking that, Lord Repenhardt?”

“What could be so different? Both of them end up slaughtering commoners, don’t they?”

Seeing Repenhardt genuinely puzzled, Siris clicked her tongue. It was surprising that this mighty mage, who possessed such incredible knowledge and wisdom, capable of turning back time, couldn’t grasp something so basic.

“It’s about whether people can project themselves onto the character or not.”

In all heroic tales, the one who ultimately becomes the king is always a warrior. No matter how exceptional a mage might be, they are merely a support to the warrior and never the main character. People can project themselves onto a warrior but cannot do so with a mage.

Despite Siris’s explanation, Repenhardt’s expression grew even more confused.

“So, why do people avoid mages so much?”

“Because anyone can dream of becoming a warrior.”

“What’s so bad about mages that no one dreams of becoming one?”

Siris smiled gently, trying to console the aggrieved Repenhardt.

“Anyone can become a warrior, but only those chosen can become mages.”

Repenhardt’s eyes widened, his face showing complete incomprehension.

Anyone can become a warrior? How many third-rate soldiers in the world are frustrated by their lack of talent? And yet anyone can become a warrior?

It didn’t make sense to him at all.

“You need to be born with talent to become great, whether as a warrior or a mage. Without talent, neither can reach the top.”

“It’s about whether you can even begin the journey or not.”

Siris continued her explanation calmly.

To become an exceptional warrior requires, in some ways, even more talent than becoming a great mage. One must be physically and sensorially gifted to become an outstanding warrior. This is undoubtedly true.

However, people do not perceive it that way.

Anyone can swing a sword. It might be clumsy, but anyone can imitate it.

But only those born with talent can begin the path of a mage. Ordinary people can’t even mimic it.

Warriors’ actions are intuitive and easy to understand. Thus, when people see a great warrior, they think:

If I try hard enough, I might not be as good as them, but I could be half as good.

Right now, I haven’t had the chance, but with some luck, I could become a hero on the battlefield too!

That warrior became great through hard work. I should work hard too.

On the other hand, magic was something utterly incomprehensible. Miracles occurred just by moving one’s lips and gesturing in the air.

This difference in perception was precisely what led to the current situation.

When the Demon King Repenhardt led the other races, humans were terrified and stricken with fear.

However, when the Fist King Repenhardt led the other races, humans praised him for his heroic appearance.

The Demon King was merely a terrifying and incomprehensible being. But people could project themselves onto the Fist King, who wielded his own body.

“Magic is a power possessed by a special few, but fists and muscles are something everyone has.”

“Is… is that so?”

For Repenhardt, who had lived solely as a mage and was a genius even among mages, this was a completely foreign concept. However, Siris, who had spent nearly fifty years learning swordsmanship in Elvenheim and meeting numerous human warriors, knew well how humans perceived mages.

Repenhardt listened with a blank expression and then stammered.

“So, can I just go on a rampage?”

Siris smiled brightly.

“Yes, if it’s you, the Fist King Repenhardt.”

“And I shouldn’t use magic openly?”

“That’s right.”

“This is… absurd.”

Seriously, is wielding a sword with bare hands more relatable than killing people with magic? No matter how he thought about it, this seemed more irrational.

“That’s how people feel.”

At Siris’s definitive statement, Repenhardt’s shoulders slumped. It seemed that understanding the human heart was beyond him.

* * *

‘So, I tried it half-heartedly…’

Approaching the castle gate, Repenhardt looked up at the fortress and gave a wry smile.

‘Their reaction really is different.’

In his previous life, he had cloaked himself in all sorts of protective magic and flown to the castle walls, demolishing them with an 8th-circle destructive spell, Arcane Blaster. Each time, both the enemy and his own allies had been terrified of him confronting the fortress alone.

Now, his actions were nearly identical. But using aura for the same feat, the enemies were one thing, but his allies’ reactions were overwhelmingly positive. In the eyes of his cheering allies, he saw awe and respect, rather than fear and aversion.

‘Well, as long as the results are good, it’s fine.’

Shrugging his shoulders, Repenhardt knocked on the castle gate. It was certainly a gate befitting a royal fortress. It stood ten meters high, and its thickness was such that even with a battering ram, it would take quite some time to break through.

“So, then!”

Repenhardt grinned slyly as he bent his knees and drew his fist back. With a shout, he thrust it forward.

“Calamity Horn!”

A golden aura condensed into a single point, generating four consecutive shockwaves. These shockwaves converged at the end of his fist, forming a massive horn of light that struck the castle gate.

Boom!

The castle gate, along with the connected walls, the bastions above, the guards, and even the large buildings nearby, was obliterated. As the entire royal castle shook from this feat, Prince Yubel shouted in an excited voice.

“All forces! Charge! Defeat the traitors!”

“Waahhhhh!”

Prince Yubel’s army surged towards the castle like a tidal wave. Leading the charge were six—no, now seven—aura users who quickly overpowered the castle’s defenders. However, the resistance from Carsus’s forces was formidable. Despite the war being clearly lost, knights loyal to Carsus threw their lives into the fray, casting themselves into the hopeless destruction.

“Prove our loyalty!”

“We shall die as knights!”

“Hail Lord Carsus!”

Carsus’s knights charged bravely, disregarding their lives. Battles erupted all over the castle. The knights, paralyzing their fear with their chivalrous loyalty, fought valiantly. Some even attacked the aura users without hesitation.

“My king! Fulfill your destiny!”

A knight screamed as he thrust his spear at Kalken, who rode a direwolf. But no matter how courageous one might be, it was futile against overwhelming power. A green flash severed his upper body from his lower, sending a fountain of blood into the air.

“Argh!”

Screams and shouts echoed throughout the castle. Blood cascaded over the elegantly decorated terraces, and human flesh added new colors to the beautifully bloomed gardens. Leading the charge, Repenhardt shouted.

“The outcome is already decided! Cease this futile resistance and save your lives!”

He yelled, hoping to minimize casualties on both sides, but his words had no effect on the knights, who were prepared to die. Their eyes bloodshot, they charged at Repenhardt.

“For the true king!”

“We shall die honorably here!”

Two knights spurred their horses forward, thrusting their lances at Repenhardt. The combined force of their galloping and their thrusts created a formidable impact. Clicking his tongue, Repenhardt launched himself to meet them.

“Foolish men!”

Two spears pierced Repenhardt’s body. Of course, spears without even a hint of aura could not harm a body defended by aura. The spear shafts broke, and the knights groaned in pain from the recoil. Repenhardt reached out with both hands and grabbed a horse’s neck in each hand. With a shout, he spun his body.

“Haap!”

The horses flew into the air.

He had thrown the horses by their necks. The horses, eyes wide open, blinked as they soared through the air.

Neigh?

Neigh?

“Aaaah!”

The knights screamed as they fell from the sky. Ignoring the knights who were thrown off, Repenhardt quickly moved to catch the falling horses.

“Oof! No need to kill innocent horses.”

It was probably the first time these horses had ever been held in a human’s arms. As the splendid horses struggled and thrashed, Repenhardt gently let them go. The bewildered horses started running away in all directions.

Neigh!

For some reason, the horses’ cries seemed to carry a hint of reproach. Repenhardt chuckled and looked at the other knights. The ones who had been charging bravely just moments ago were now retreating cautiously.

“Ugh, that monster…”

“How can he display such strength…?”

No matter how reckless one might be, facing such brute strength that could toss horses elicited an instinctive fear. Moreover, the sight of their fallen comrades was truly pitiful. They were all sprawled face down with their rear ends in the air—an undignified position that any knight, who valued honor, would want to avoid.

“Damn! I don’t want to end up like that!”

If they were going to die in battle, they wanted to die gloriously, like knights. The knights started to flee one by one. Repenhardt chuckled and shouted again.

“Surrender, all of you!”

Prince Yubel’s forces quickly took control of various parts of the royal castle. The forces of Carsus fought bravely, but the difference in power was too great. Eventually, the defenders began to drop their weapons one by one in surrender. While the mixed-race aura users subdued the castle, Prince Yubel dashed through the palace searching for Prince Carsus. The dwarf maiden Finia, Repenhardt, and several nobles followed him.

Soon, they arrived at a grand hall. In the center of the hall, bathed in the brilliant afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, stood a man in full armor.

Prince Yubel shouted at him.

“It’s all over! Carsus!”

Carsus looked back at Yubel and gave a weak smile.

“It’s been a while, Yubel.”

The two men who vied for the throne met in the sacred hall where the fate of the crown would be decided.