Chapter 209
Chapter 209
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 209
Chapter Title: Chapter 5-1. These People Here Are Gifts Prepared for You.
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The elf mage-engineers were remarkable. Not only were they precisely blocking the raining boulders and ballista bolts, but they were also unleashing magical attacks on the enemy, intercepting arrows and steadily inflicting damage on the infantry climbing up.
However, the enemy numbers were overwhelming, and the ceaseless barrage from the entrenched ballistae and catapults placed a heavy burden on the mage-engineers. Meanwhile, the ground in front of the cliff was rising up, carving out a new path.
Seeing this, Judah shifted his gaze to the . He had suspected something when the advancing enemy veered toward the right flank earlier, and it seemed they planned to scale the cliff this way.
Normally, building an earthen rampart was no easy task, but with magic, it was done in an instant.
He had wondered how the red dots on the left flank were climbing the cliff so quickly, but now he saw the method. Staring at the , Judah wrestled with indecision.
It seemed better to deal with the enemies scaling the right flank first, rather than waiting for the Spirit Sword wielder whose arrival time was unknown. At least, that was Judah's judgment.
The unit defending the right flank cliff apparently lacked a Spirit Sword wielder, as they were failing to hold back the red dots. In the frantic chaos of the battlefield, biting his lip, Judah broke into a run. With his body enhanced by mana, he dashed swiftly across the cluttered, hectic ramparts.
No one tried to grab or stop him. As he passed over the gate, he spotted elves armed in a completely different manner from those he'd seen so far. They wore full-body plate armor like knights, shields, and sleek swords.
'Guardians?'
They were stationed not only atop the gate but also behind it. In case the gate was breached, they would hold the line.
His eyes met those of one of the elders controlling the gate. But their gazes lingered only for a split second. As a high-ranking mage-engineer, the elder had no time to spare—he had to keep watching the battlefield and preparing spells.
+ + +
"Kyaha— magnificent!"
Ort burst into laughter from atop his galloping horse. Leading the detachment toward the flank's cliff, he was taking in the spectacle far off: a festival of lightning and magic unfurling toward the massive giant.
Calypso's combat clan—Cheriu, was it?
As soon as the battle began, they had lured the elf guardian away, fighting in a position far removed from the main battlefield. They retreated bit by bit, so distant it almost seemed they were withdrawing entirely.
The giant, dozens of meters tall, stomped once, and the shockwave that should have upheaved the earth in a wide radius shot out in a straight line instead. Blood exploded in a burst from whoever it hit, visible even from here.
Yet they weren't just taking a beating—they were fighting remarkably well. On closer inspection, those dying were all the heavy infantry the duke had provided as support, or mercenaries and adventurers bearing silver plates. Those in robes emblazoned with the Cheriu combat clan's emblem dodged the guardian's attacks with impressive skill.
'Not luck—that's real skill.'
They were holding up astonishingly well. Of course, the occasional sight of the unknowably tall giant stomping to send a linear shockwave pulverizing soldiers and mage-engineers alike into unrecognizable flesh was still common. But the key was that, despite such sacrifices, they weren't being overwhelmingly pushed back.
Above all, bringing in Jeung, the ostentatiously named Thunder Lord, had been a stroke of genius. Rumor had it they had sneaked into the sacred lands revered by the Baekje people, offered massive ritual sacrifices, and forged some contract—though the details were unknown, the duke had known of their pact with the Thunder Lord and drawn them into this war. It was a testament to his meticulous preparations.
It showed just how thoroughly the duke had prepared for this war.
Wondering why they'd bring such a divine beast, here they were matching blows evenly with what he'd thought would be the biggest obstacle: the elf guardian. Against that golem, shrouded in rumors of being one of the Lord's twenty-four fragments.
"Brave, aren't they?"
Ort's eyes curved in a gentle smile. For Cheriu, holding the guardian so desperately wasn't about victory in the war. Elves or forests meant nothing to them. It was surely to claim what they suspected was a fragment of the Lord. Whether from the 1st Continent or the 2nd, the value and power of the Lord's fragments were proven immense.
Even a century later, some fragments' locations remained unknown, and even when located, they were often in places too perilous to retrieve. An irreplaceable treasure worth billions—they wouldn't pass up a chance to obtain one.
But Evilren, the combat clan from the central main force of the same Langgritsa Magic Tower, was different. Whether truly after the elves or testing their researched magic and combat prowess, they were fighting fiercely on the central front.
From this position, the central main force wasn't clearly visible, but traces of Evilren were evident even in the barrage from the positioned ballistae and catapults. Arrows enhanced by magic or ignited on launch, or accelerating mid-flight despite identical firing.
"Mage-engineers were always a bunch of oddballs, past and present."
At least, among those he'd met, hardly any were normal. The Langgritsa Magic Tower was no exception.
"Sir Ort."
One of the Radiants riding close beside him called out. Likely to explain the situation, but to Ort, it sounded like a warning not to get distracted. Maybe that's exactly what he meant. Ort turned with a grin.
"What?"
Meeting his eyes, the Radiant was impassive. Dull as ever.
"We're almost at the cliff. Shall we begin?"
"Already?"
The sheer cliff, carved straight down, was still some distance away. Granted the authority to lead them only because he was a Spirit Sword wielder, Ort didn't know the precise abilities of each individual. If they were heavy cavalry, infantry, archers—clear roles would make command easy. But each had unique skills and experience. The only common thread: all were elites.
As Ort tilted his head, pondering if it was still far, the Radiant who had asked permission nodded confidently.
"This distance is perfect for manifesting my ability."
"If you can do it, go ahead. Me leading you Radiants is just formality. No need to mind me. Fight as you always do."
"Understood. Then."
Soon after, as if his unique ability had activated, a transparent, glass-like path appeared before the galloping horses. A diagonal bridge linking ground and cliff formed, drawing a gasp of admiration from Ort.
What an entertaining power. And dozens of Radiants with such abilities...
Impressed anew by the duke's resourcefulness, Ort spurred his horse. The mount slowed slightly, wary of the translucent path, but after testing it once, it trusted the firmness and picked up speed.
They ascended the cliff—once a worrisome obstacle from afar—with absurd ease. On horseback, no less. Amid the thrill, Ort let out a hearty laugh, quickly swallowed by the battlefield din.
"Oh! Look at that. Came out to welcome us?"
Ort spotted an elf emerging from the forest atop the cliff. More followed, climbing leafless trees to nock arrows. Without warning, arrows streaked toward those ascending the cliff. Not arcing parabolas, but straight shots, precisely aimed downward.
"Arrows are nothing."
Ort scoffed, drawing his sword in a sweeping arc. The sword strike pulverized the incoming volley. Shattered shafts tumbled off the cliff or scattered on the glass path. As horses trampled the powdered remains and surged upward, the elves flinched at the sight.
The Radiants were called a knight order, but not all relied on swordsmanship. It was mere basic training.
Some excelled in archery, others in magic; some even in assassination, ill-suited to knighthood. Like the one creating this invaluable glass bridge for the ascent.
But eclipsing them all was the Spirit Sword wielder Ort. His swinging blade turned arrows to dust, even as they tried to collapse the bridge.
"Hey."
"Yes, Sir Ort."
"They're trying to -boom!- wreck the bridge. You good?"
Mid-sentence, an explosion rocked the path. Smoke cleared to reveal cracks in the glass-like surface. Unease stirred. Ort or the Radiants could survive a fall from this height, but the trailing soldiers would die. Luck might save some, but that's just luck.
"No need for concern. One section destroyed doesn't collapse the rest."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Though if the horses can't leap the gap, they'll plummet to their deaths."
"Can't make a new one?"
"You mean repair the damaged part from a galloping horse? Precision work like that's tough."
"Ha!"
"Not instead, but this is possible."
Glancing aside, the single path had split into triples on either side. No orders given, but the cavalry naturally divided into five streams ascending the cliff.
Naturally, the elves didn't just watch. Some arrows veered toward the split foes, felling soldiers and horses that plummeted with mingled screams. No one could save them.
Ort stood on his saddle and leaped. The horse staggered under the sudden force but kept galloping without falling.
The instant his feet hit the path, Ort dashed forward. Mana gathered beneath him and exploded. The defensive enchantment etched into his leather armor shielded him from the blast.
Smelling scorched air, Ort burst through the smoke toward the clifftop. Faster than any horse, he deflected arrows with his sword and dodged spells. Spotting an elf drawing a blade atop the cliff, he laughed.
"A non-Spirit Sword wielder dares block me!"
Way too dismissive!
In an instant, Ort overpowered the elf, seizing his throat. Slender—it fit perfectly in his grip. He hooked the elf's leg, toppling him, then slammed him to the ground.
"Gah!"
Misplayed the pin; the elf gasped raggedly. Ort hoisted him by main strength and hurled him into a tree. Not killing—just knocking out. The followers would slap on a sealing band. Seeing him slump, Ort leaped toward elves aiming arrows from the branches.
Elf arrows were sharp and deadly. Many climbers had died to them. But they were just a fraction.