Chapter 45: The Knight's Despair, Offerings to the Evil God
Reno's pupils contracted to needle points at the blasphemous sight before him.
He recognized that face.
Though it had beco pale and bloated, eye sockets sunken deep, that obese form wrapped in luxurious silk was none other than the lord of Grayrock Town, Baron Ralph.
A living, Empire-appointed noble, a vassal lord who had toasted him at banquets, now like a puppet stripped of its soul, kneeling basely and respectfully before that stitched-face heretic.
This was not provocation.
This was the most naked, most vicious humiliation of the entire noble class, of the Empire's thousand-year laws, of the worldly order established by the Father God!
Reno felt his blood ignite in an instant, then boil, a furious fla surging from his chest straight to his crown, burning his eyes bloodred.
“All forces—battle formation!!”
Reno's roar rang out like thunder across the plains, jolting those soldiers stirring with fear.
“Lionheart Guard! With as your vanguard! Raise shields!!”
“Halberds forward, swordsn rear! Form shield circle!”
“Archers ready! Three volleys! Turn those bastards at the front into pincushions!!”
“Cavalry! Deploy to the flanks! Prepare for my command to flank and charge!”
The orders were clear and cold.
Long training steeped in sweat and blood showed its true value in this mont.
Those thousand heavy infantry were not completely cowed by the terrifying sight before them.
They only let out a unified roar as heavy tower shields emblazoned with the lion crest THUDDED into the cracked earth, instantly forming an impenetrable wall of steel.
Countless polished halberds protruded from gaps between shields, like the bristling spines on a steel porcupine, gleaming with cold killing intent.
Three hundred heavy cavalry deployed to the flanks like two razors about to be drawn, hooves striking the hard ground with muffled, oppressive thunder.
Every knight lowered their cold visors, leaving only a narrow slit, locking their gaze deadly on that filthy enemy ahead.
“First rank! Loose!”
With an officer's hoarse shout, a dark cloud of three hundred arrows rose into the air, tracing a deadly arc and descending with sharp whistles toward Marcus and his corpse army.
However, Marcus rely lazily raised his eyelids, that cruel smile on his stitched face unchanged.
He didn't even assu any defensive posture, simply spreading his arms as if welcoming an insignificant spring shower.
The arrow rain fell.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
The sound of arrows piercing flesh rged into one continuous dull chorus that made hearts race.
Against all soldiers' expectations, those corpse walkers made no attempt to dodge or block.
They simply stood rigidly, allowing those arrows capable of piercing ordinary leather armor to strike their rotting bodies.
Countless corpse walkers were pierced until they resembled straw-stuffed targets, so even staggering backward several steps from the massive impact force of the arrows, colliding with companions behind them.
But that was all.
They did not fall.
They did not bleed.
They did not even emit a single groan representing pain.
They rely stared with those hollow eye sockets burning with crimson ghostfire at the steel formation ahead, then under Marcus's silent command, began taking stiff, sluggish steps forward, dragging their arrow-studded bodies onward.
This scene was more spine-chilling than any bloody charge.
“Second rank! Loose!”
“Third rank! Loose!”
Two more waves of arrow rain covered them, but the result was no different.
The Lionheart Guard soldiers faced this completely unreasonable enemy for the first ti.
Their proud arrows, aside from adding more holes to the enemy's bodies, were utterly aningless.
A fear called “powerlessness” began quietly breeding in the soldiers' hearts.
“Damn it…”
Reno's teeth ground audibly, veins bulging on the back of his hand gripping the sword hilt.
“A bunch of lifeless trash naturally knows no pain.”
A languid, seductive voice ca from behind him.
Fire Mage Lilith swayed her serpentine waist forward.
She extended her crimson tongue, licking her bright red lips, those soul-stealing peach blossom eyes burning with excitent and bloodlust.
“Knight Commander Reno, stop using your antiquated thods for dealing with the living.”
“To handle this trash, you should use thods befitting trash.”
She extended her slender jade hand, palm upward.
A fist-sized, violently pulsing fireball appeared from nothing, illuminating her enchanting face in flickering light and shadow.
“Watch burn them into a pile of pretty glass shards.”
“Lilith! Before the battle line, no unauthorized actions! Return to your position!”
Reno barked sharply—he most despised these self-important spellcasters ignoring military discipline.
But Lilith completely ignored him.
She giggled as if hearing an amusing joke, then with a light flick of her wrist, that fireball shot out as if flung by an invisible catapult, tracing an orange parabola and landing precisely in the densest cluster of corpse walkers.
There was no earth-shattering explosion.
The fireball upon landing spread like viscous liquid, WHOOSHING into a sea of flas over twenty ters in diater!
The orange flas, with an eerie viscosity, clung like marrow-seeking poison to those corpse walkers, burning madly.
“RAAAGH—ROOOAR—”
This ti, those corpse walkers without pain receptors finally emitted piercing shrieks.
Those flas seed not to burn their flesh but to directly scorch the evil undead cores within them.
Billowing gray-black smoke rose from their bodies, carrying a nauseating burnt stench.
Corpse walkers twisted and struggled in the sea of flas, finally becoming charred human-shaped coals that collapsed with crashes.
A single strike cleared a vast area.
“See that, my knight commander?”
Lilith tossed Reno a flirtatious wink, her breath like silk.
“This is what efficiency looks like.”
Suppressed cheers erupted from the Lionheart Guard formation.
Confidence and hope reappeared on the soldiers' faces.
So these monsters feared fire!
However, gray-robed Mage Martin at the formation's center stared fixedly at that sea of flas, the gravity on his withered face increasing rather than diminishing.
“No.”
He spoke hoarsely, his voice like grinding branches.
“Lilith, stop casting imdiately! Look at those burned corpses!”
Everyone looked where indicated.
From those corpses burned to charcoal, wisps of faint gray-black mist barely visible in daylight were rising.
They drifted as if drawn by invisible gravity toward Marcus behind, finally disappearing into his black robe.
And Marcus, after absorbing this mist, showed an expression of enjoynt and intoxication on that stitched face.
He drew a deep breath as if savoring the finest wine.
The evil death energy around him, far from weakening due to his servants' deaths, beca even more concentrated, even more powerful!
“He's… he's absorbing the dead's soul power!”
Martin's voice filled with shock and disbelief.
“Every undead we kill is strengthening his power!”
“Lilith, you're not purifying them—you're offering them as sacrifices to him!”
Lilith's smile instantly froze on her face.
Reno's heart plunged like falling into an ice cavern.
This was an unbreakable death spiral.
The more they killed, the stronger the enemy's leader beca.
How could this battle be fought?
“Haha… HAHAHAHA…”
Marcus released an ugly owl-like mad laugh, filled with triumph and mockery.
“Thank you for your purification, noble mage lady.”
He spread his arms as if embracing a delicious offering.
“Your every attack is presenting my lord with the purest soul sacrifices! Now it's my turn to give you a return gift!”
Before his words ended, he suddenly thrust both hands into the cracked ground beneath his feet!
“Rise! My lord's servants! Fight for your rebirth!!”
The earth began shaking violently.
RUMBLE—
On that empty land before the Lionheart Guard formation, pale, rotting, mud-covered hands suddenly burst from the soil!
Then ca the second, third… hundreds, thousands!
Those warhorses freshly killed under the arrow rain and charges, those townspeople hastily buried after slaughter, even so bones buried underground for who knows how many years—all answered his summons in this mont.
They crawled swaying from underground, eye sockets igniting with the sa crimson ghostfire as the corpse walkers, joining that silent undead army.
The undead's numbers doubled in re dozens of seconds!
This terrifying, eerie scene was the final straw that utterly shattered the Lionheart Guard soldiers' already taut psychological defenses.
“Monsters! They're unkillable monsters!”
“Father God above… are we fighting all of hell?”
A young soldier pointed at a newly erged undead, screaming in collapse.
Panic spread like plague through the solid formation.
So young soldiers began retreating uncontrollably backward, fatal loosening appearing at the shield wall's edges.
“Hold! All of you hold!!”
Reno's roar was like a lion's, he bellowed with all his strength, trying to suppress the soldiers' fear.
“A knight's honor permits no retreat! Rember your families! For the Viscount! For Lionheart City!!”
He knew they could not wait any longer.
Once morale completely collapsed, this thousand-strong elite force would beco lambs for slaughter.
The only solution was decapitation!
Before total collapse, kill that black-robed man!
“All forces! Charge!!”
Reno sharply spurred his mount, becoming the first and only one to launch a suicidal charge toward that mass of undead!
The golden Battle Energy belonging to a Grand Knight erupted explosively, enveloping both man and horse like a golden teor running counter to the darkness!
“KILL—!!”
Three hundred heavy cavalry, infected by their commander's fearless valor, suppressed their fear and released earth-shaking roars.
They followed that golden light, rging into an unstoppable steel torrent that crashed viciously into that undead ocean.
The battle truly entered the clash of blood and bone in this mont.
Cavalry charges were every infantryman's nightmare.
But the undead had no nightmares.
The first rank of corpse walkers before the heavy cavalry's devastating impact was torn apart like paper.
Warhorses' iron hooves trampled them into pulp, knights' three-ter lances easily impaling and flinging them aside.
However, the cavalry quickly discovered sothing wrong.
Their lances pierced enemy bodies but could not truly stop them.
Those gutted corpse walkers still swung rusted weapons, death-gripping horse legs, using nails, using teeth, madly clawing and hacking at knights' armor.
One knight's lance simultaneously impaled three corpse walkers, but those three crawled along the lance shaft, death-gripping him!
The cavalry charge's speed was rapidly dragged down by these fearless “at stakes.”
Once deprived of their vital speed, heavy cavalry beca tin cans, sitting targets.
Countless corpse walkers surged like tides, using claws, using teeth, using everything available, madly attacking warhorses and knights.
Warhorses' anguished cries, knights' roars and screams, the CRACK of crushed bones, the TEAR of ripped flesh—all interwove into hell's symphony.
A towering knight was dragged down horse and all by several corpse walkers—before he could even draw his sword, swarming undead buried him instantly.
The piercing scream lasted only half a second before cutting off abruptly, leaving only teeth-aching sounds of tearing flesh and shattering bone.
Elsewhere, Reno had already collided viciously with a giant monstrosity assembled from countless white bones.
CLANG—!
An ear-splitting clash of tal.
Reno's Battle Energy-infused charging slash struck viciously into the bone giant's massive ribcage composed of countless ribs.
Sparks flew, several bowl-thick ribs snapped with sharp cracks, bone fragnts scattering.
But the giant rely staggered, then its massive fist ford from so giant beast's skull descended toward Reno with howling wind!
Reno's pupils contracted as he desperately spurred his mount aside.
The giant fist grazed his body and smashed into the ground, creating an enormous crater with flying debris.
This beast has trendous strength! Reno felt his palms numbing, arms trembling.
anwhile, Lilith recovered from her initial shock and humiliation.
Being so mocked completely ignited her fury.
“Trash! I'll burn you along with your filthy souls to ash!!”
She raised her staff high, beginning to chant lengthy, complex incantations.
Fire elents in the air began visibly gathering toward her staff's tip, forming an increasingly large, increasingly unstable, dark red glowing terrifying fireball.
“—Dragon's Breath!”
With her delicate shout, a terrifying fla beam over three ters in diater erupted from the staff tip like genuine dragon breath, sweeping across the entire battlefield with unstoppable montum!
Wherever the flas passed, whether corpse walkers or freshly erged skeletons, all vaporized instantly, leaving not even ashes.
The earth was plowed into a half-ter-deep charred furrow, edges lted by high heat into glossy crystals.
This heaven-destroying strike instantly cleared nearly one-third of the undead!
However, Marcus rely watched coldly, lips curling in a mocking arc.
The death aura around him intensified another degree.
He patted the silent corpse walker beside him dressed in luxurious noble attire.
“Go, Saint Ralph.”
He said hoarsely.
“Let these ignorant humans witness the new 'glory' my lord has bestowed upon you.”
Converted Baron Ralph's eye sockets flashed crimson.
He released an inhuman shriek, then with agility completely inconsistent with his obese fra, charged on all fours like a grotesque spider toward the Lionheart Guard infantry formation already showing chaos.
Wherever he passed, lower undead parted way as if greeting a monarch.
“Stop him!”
An infantry centurion roared, leading several guards forward, trying to block this breach.
However, the instant Ralph's body approached them, it suddenly swelled like an inflated balloon filled with rot-water pushed to its limit.
“No good!”
Distant Mage Martin's expression changed drastically, crying out in alarm.
“It's corpse explosion! Scatter quickly!”
But it was already too late.
BOOM—!!!
A suprely muffled explosion.
Ralph's body detonated violently.
What scattered across the sky was not flesh and blood but viscous yellow-green corrosive liquid and deadly poison gas.
That brave centurion and his guards couldn't even scream—the instant they contacted the liquid, their armor and flesh lted like candles, corroded to only sizzling pitch-black skeletons.
More soldiers around them, upon inhaling the poison gas, collapsed clutching their throats in agony, black blood flowing from eyes, ears, nose and mouth, bodies convulsing violently before quickly falling silent.
A previously perfect circular shield formation was thus torn open from within with an irreparable massive breach.
More undead, like floodwater finding a dam breach, poured madly through.
The slaughter escalated again.
Defeat was sealed.
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