CH246 Fragments of Schaumer II

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It went without saying that Pangea was an unforgiving realm—where peace was little more than a dream reserved for the truly strong.

Nay, even for the strong, true and uninterrupted peace was nothing but an idealist fantasy. For in Pangea, it was through chaos, battle, and war that even the mighty earned fleeting moments of peace.

At the very pinnacle of those who could enjoy some semblance of peace, safety and security stood the nobility and royalty.

This was because, in theory, anyone with sufficient strength could rise to the ranks of nobility—albeit as a low-born noble. And by virtue of that strength, they could claim a fragile sliver of peace.

Yet it was well known across the continent: to enter nobility was to step into a crucible of ambition. A cruel, relentless world where peace ironically became nothing but a distant memory. For ambition was born of chaos, and it thrived only upon the battlefield.

To survive in the cutthroat realm of Pangea's aristocracy required more than individual might—it demanded the backing of collective power.

And for any family hoping to endure beyond three generations, neither the strength of one peerless figure nor the might of a single army would suffice. Such a family required something rarer: members who were, as a whole, powerful, talented, and unmistakably unique.

The Fury Family was such a house. Their Furor Bloodline granted them talents honed for battle and chaos, while their rebellious, ambitious spirit marked them as uniquely suited to thrive in this unforgiving world.

The Schaumers were no different.

Before the Mad Earl rose upon their ashes, the Schaumer line had stood as a family with centuries of history and renown.

They were a house that had birthed numerous Legends in their prime—most of them unparalleled masters of the sword. From this legacy emerged a bloodline of its own: the Schaumer Sword Bloodline.

Its inheritors were blessed with extraordinary affinity for the sword, forging a clan of sword fanatics renowned throughout the Virellian Empire, and whose Saints and Legends left their mark across the Pangea Plane and even the worlds beyond.

Similar to how the Furor Bloodline granted Alex his Battle Instinct—a natural talent across all weapons and fighting forms—the Schaumer Sword Bloodline bestowed upon its heirs unmatched brilliance with the sword.

The richer a bloodline, the greater the chance its inheritors could draw upon the accumulated knowledge of their ancestors—enough, at times, to reach the exalted realm of Sword Grandmaster and beyond.

Weapon Mastery was distinct from cultivation ranking, though the two were intertwined. More often than not, one's cultivation rank determined the ceiling of one's weapon mastery.

This followed a structure similar to Craftsmanship, which also corresponded to cultivation.

For example, a Class 0 warrior could at best develop Tier 0 swordsmanship. By contrast, one would need to reach Class 6—Legend—before pushing sword mastery to the peak of Tier V, the realm of Sword Grandmasters.

This was because higher tiers demanded more than physical skill. Tier IV and Tier V required the integration of Derived Concepts and even Basic Laws into one's swordsmanship—an achievement possible only for Saints and Legends, whose cultivation granted them such comprehension.

Yet history remembered rare exceptions—geniuses who broke the mould and attained a higher weapon proficiency than their cultivation should have allowed.

Among them, a number of inheritors of the Schaumer Sword Bloodline were historically famous. Their innate affinity for the sword allowed many of them to reach Tier IV Sword Master without ever stepping into the Saintly realm. It was precisely this that made duelling a Schaumer a gamble few dared to take.

And to double down on their terrifying advantage, a Schaumer ancestor once secured a forbidden treasure: the production method of the Domain Prohibition Writ.

This rune scroll, depending on its tier, could ban the use of Saintly or Legendary Domains. Against such a writ, even the mightiest Saints and Legends would be shackled, unable to manifest Derived Concepts or Basic Laws.

Stripped of their domains, they were forced to fight with nothing but Internal Energy and raw combat technique—where the Schaumers excelled.

No one knew from where or whom the Schaumer ancestor obtained this method. But when Earl Drake Fury razed the family, he never uncovered it.

Thus, the Domain Prohibition Writ and its creation method were believed lost to history. And truth be told, many across Pangea were glad of it—for such a weapon threatened the very hegemony of Saints and Legends.

Jared, however, never imagined that the boy deemed too insignificant for Drake Fury to kill decades ago had escaped with such a treasure… and that he now dared to use it.

"Do you regret it? Not killing me when you had the chance?" Casper Schaumer taunted coldly. "Don't worry—I won't make the same mistake. I will wipe out every last one of the Furor Bloodline."

Jared didn't respond.

Instead, he dismounted from his horse.

"Neigh~"

Terror, his loyal warhorse, cried in protest. But one stern glance from Jared silenced it. With a sound closer to a pitiful whine than a neigh, the beast obeyed, pulling back as ordered.

Casper dismounted as well. Not out of honour—never that—but simply because he would fight better on foot.

The moment the horses withdrew, Casper struck.

Thing!

Steel rang as Jared intercepted the blow with the long shaft of his war axe. Even stripped of their domains, their Saint-level Internal Energy infused every movement. The sheer force behind strike and block unleashed a shockwave that rippled out nearly fifty metres.

Casper pressed forward, his blade flashing again in a ruthless follow-up. Jared barely adjusted, using the broad axe head to catch the strike.

The instant steel met steel, Jared's instincts flared.

Casper's blade clung unnaturally against the axe, his hips twisting with predatory precision. With a brutal parry, he shoved the axe upward, exposing Jared's torso.

The sword lunged for his midsection—only for Jared's eyes to blaze with sudden resolve.

Muscles tensed, he resisted the momentum with sheer force, wrenching his weapon downward in a punishing smash.

'As expected of a Schaumer. His momentum is monstrous,' Jared thought grimly.

Steel shrieked. Jared countered with a horizontal slash, but Casper hopped and barrel-rolled over the strike, flowing seamlessly into a spinning thrust. The blade kissed Jared's cheek, drawing blood.

The two separated for a heartbeat.

Jared exhaled sharply. 'He refuses to give me a single breath.'

Casper was already on him again.

The duel grew fiercer, weapons crashing in a storm of sparks. Jared's axe gave him reach, yes, but its weight slowed him. Casper's sword was faster—unyielding, relentless, every strike carrying that trademark Schaumer momentum.

After six blistering exchanges, Jared was forced to brace his axe shaft horizontally, thrusting it outward to halt the charge.

But even that was read.

Casper twisted, angling his blade with perfect timing.

'He hooked the inside of the axe head?!' Jared realised in shock.

The Schaumer prodigy had exploited the weapon's very shape against him. With a sharp rotation, Casper's blade locked against the curve of the axe, wrenched it free, and sent Jared's war axe spinning skyward.

For the first time in decades, Jared Rivia stood disarmed.

"This is the end, Jared Rivia!" Casper roared, eyes alight with vengeance.

His sword thrust forward—

Blood sprayed against the inferno-lit battlefield. A fissure a hundred metres long split the earth behind Jared, carved by the sheer force of Casper's blow.

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