Miracle Card Shop: All My Cards Can Be Actualize - Chapter 344 A Skirmish

344  A Skirmish

— Meanwhile, Shogun Castle Courtyard —

In the courtyard, the clash between Atlanteus and the shogun’s forces raged on unabated. The inaugural upload of this chapter took place via /n/ov/el/b/in.

Around Atlanteus, the fallen bodies of the shogun’s soldiers littered the ground. Some lay unconscious, while others remained lifeless, their breaths forever stilled.

As for Atlanteus himself, he bore numerous wounds, his body a testament to the ferocity of the battle. Despite his injuries, the morale of the surrounding shogun soldiers only seemed to rise, bolstered by their numerical advantage. They held firm in their belief that sheer numbers would eventually overwhelm Atlanteus, regardless of his superior skill.

Little did they know, Atlanteus had intentionally held back, still awaiting the signal from Oceanos indicating Koyuki’s safe rescue. He dared not unleash his full arsenal, fearing it might force the shogun to resort to using the hostage. Thus, he had played the role of bait, diverting attention away from Koyuki and creating chaos to aid Maria in her rescue mission.

However, Atlanteus knew his limits. As a Grand Artificer, his prowess lay not in direct combat but in the ingenious creations of his artifacts. While skilled in battle, he was no match for the likes of Momotaro or Heracles without the aid of his inventions. Yet, now his primary weapon, the micro laser blade, lay dormant on the ground, its energy depleted.

Faced with this dilemma, Atlanteus pondered his options. Should he continue the charade, retreat, or unleash his full arsenal to turn the tide? Exhausted, he knew he couldn’t maintain the stalemate much longer.

Then, a cold voice crackled through his communication device, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.

“Lord Atlanteus, the package is secured. You may retreat or proceed with full force. We will commence the assault in three minutes,” the operator announced.

A savage grin spread across Atlanteus’s face as he laughed aloud. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” With a swift motion, he pushed a button on the head of his cane.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeez

A sharp, ominous sound pierced the air as a cylindrical object plummeted from the sky. Small jets attempted to slow its descent, but as they detached, the object continued its free fall, hurtling towards the ground below.

The soldiers surrounding Atlanteus quickly retreated, leaving him alone at what seemed to be the epicenter of the impending event.

Booooom!!

The massive object crashed to the ground, sending plumes of dust and dirt billowing into the air. As the dust settled, a large cylindrical structure, roughly four meters tall, came into view.

In a swift motion, Atlanteus darted inside the now-opened front armor plate of the object.

A sense of foreboding washed over the shogun as he watched the events unfold. It felt as though things were about to take a drastic turn for the worse.

“Stop the old man! Now!” the shogun commanded, urging his guards to halt Atlanteus. They opened fire, but their bullets merely bounced harmlessly off the sturdy exterior of the cylindrical object.

Suddenly, with a deafening boom, the armor plate of the object exploded, injuring several nearby soldiers in the process.

Dust swirled like phantoms as a colossal figure rose from the chaos. Towering four meters tall, a mechanized titan clad in silver sheen armor gleamed under the dying sun. Its sleek form belied its imposing presence, agile movements belying its heavy weaponry.

From within the suit, Atlanteus’ voice echoed, amplified and distorted, booming down like a thunderclap: “Playtime’s over, you damn brat!”

With a metallic hiss, hidden compartments across the suit sprang open, revealing an arsenal of nightmares. Miniguns whirred, autocannons spat fire, and micro-missiles danced into the sky, their guidance systems hungry for life.

The Shogun swore under his breath, the gravity of the situation slamming into him with the force of a battering ram. The once disciplined ranks of his soldiers dissolved into panicked chaos before the merciless hail of lead. The autocannon on the titan’s arm swept through them like a scythe, leaving a bloody swathe of ruin in its wake.

High above, the staccato explosions of micro-missiles painted the night sky with flashes of death, turning castle battlements and soldiers alike into fleeting shadows.

Driven by desperation, the Shogun and his remaining guards retreated like rats fleeing a burning ship. Their destination: the basement, where Koyuki remained captive, a last, fading hope against the mechanized juggernaut that threatened to crush their world.

The shogun along with his personal guards use the trap door, a secret passage as a shortcut toward the basement where his last hope was kept captive.

Initially, the shogun had intended to seize this opportunity to humble Atlanteus, to show him the folly of overestimating his abilities. Yet, to his astonishment, the old man had turned the tables, summoning his mechanized suit from who knows where and wreaking havoc upon the castle and its defenders.

However, amidst the chaos, a twisted smile crept onto the shogun’s face as he envisioned the destructive potential of the colossal suit. If he could capture Atlanteus and seize control of the suit, allowing his scientists to reverse-engineer its technology, he could amass a battalion of these mechanized behemoths and claim dominion over the world! The prospect of global supremacy tantalized him.

As he retreated toward the familiar corridor leading to Koyuki’s prison chamber, a figure emerged—a youth, appearing to be in his late teens or early twenties, stood before the door. This young man, clad in a tidy black suit, exuded an air of seriousness that belied his youthful appearance. With his arms crossed and a katana sheathed at his side, he seemed poised and composed.

“Forgive my bluntness, but the path beyond me is off-limits,” the youth spoke, his eyes opening to regard the shogun with respect as he stepped forward, offering a slight bow.

“Greetings, Hojo-dono,” he said courteously. “Would you kindly remain here with me? My lord requests your presence once this… skirmish has concluded.”

“Insolence! How dare you presume to detain Hojo-sama!” one of the shogun’s guards bellowed, stepping forward to shield his master.

“I apologize if my words seem disrespectful or arrogant, but I do not serve Hojo-dono. Therefore, addressing him with such formality is the extent of my politeness as a Shogun of this realm,” the youth stated matter-of-factly.

The shogun remained silent, simply nodding at his guards, who swiftly advanced toward Momotaro with remarkable speed. These were the elite of his guard, master swordsmen for whom Nobunari Hojo had paid a high price to secure their services.

Observing the unfolding events, Momotaro seemed unable to react to the guards’ swiftness.

Slash!

In a blur of motion, a blade swept through the air, but Momotaro had seemingly teleported behind the guard who had swung at empty space moments before.

“Impossible…” the guard gasped in disbelief as blood gushed from his torso, his body collapsing to the ground, eyes wide with shock at his sudden demise.

Though Momotaro appeared unmoved, some of the shogun’s guards with keen eyesight glimpsed the swift blur of his arm and sword, noting the subtle shifts in his body and movement during the clash.

“Impossible… a sword… a sword saint!?” one of them murmured incredulously.

Witnessing this display, Nobunari swallowed nervously, realizing his guards were outmatched. Suppressing his fear and displaying a bright smile, the shogun addressed Momotaro with admiration.

“Superb skill! Incredible swordsmanship! May I have the honor of knowing your name, sensei?” Nobunari spoke warmly, despite having lost his finest guard to Momotaro’s prowess, now regarding him as a sensei. Such mastery of the sword was beyond the reach of an ordinary warrior.

“My name is Momotaro,” the youth replied.

“Momotaro! The same name as the great demon slayer of legend! You truly live up to that name, sir! May I inquire about your esteemed clan or family?” the shogun inquired, his smile genuine.

Momotaro offered a faint smile, his amusement evident to Nobunari and the guards, devoid of any mockery or malice, merely reflecting the situation he found himself in.

“No, Hojo-dono. I don’t belong to any clan. I’m simply a son of a farmer; after all… we are neither noble nor samurai,” Momotaro replied honestly.

“Oh… I see…” Nobunari feigned sympathy, his expression mirroring his words. He then continued his inquiries.

“May I inquire where you learned such exceptional swordsmanship? Your style is unlike any I’ve encountered before,” the shogun asked.

“Indeed, Hojo-dono. It’s a self-taught style that I devised to combat opponents stronger than myself,” Momotaro answered, opting not to delve into specifics and allowing the shogun to interpret as he pleased.

Upon hearing this, the shogun’s mind teemed with excitement. What a discovery! A solitary sword saint without clan ties or allegiance to any samurai faction! Such individuals were the most easily swayed; offering noble status to this sword saint could secure a formidable ally. The absence of nobility was an advantage; the shogun could trust that Momotaro would not engage in political maneuvering. Moreover, he sensed that this youth harbored no interest in politics either.

“How about this, Momotaro-sensei?” proposed the shogun eagerly. “How about serving me? I’ll offer you a great reward, along with a noble title!”