Chapter 66
Chapter 66
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: 21. Knight Beyond Knights (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Dusk had settled over the castle gates, where two hundred knights stood in formation. Leading them was my heavily armored uncle.
"Man, that armor suits you."
"Does it? Thanks."
They were about to plunge into a horde of fourteen thousand orcs, staking their lives on the battle. Yet my uncle's voice was calmer than ever.
The others were the same.
The Black Spear Cavalry knights had their visors down, so their expressions were hidden, but their demeanor was remarkably steady. There was only a fitting tension in the air.
The Winter Castle knights were no different. If anything, they looked itching to fling open the gates and charge out right then and there.
"Your Highness."
A knight covered in wounds approached and handed me the reins of a pure white steed. I leaped up and settled into the saddle.
"It's a precious northern purebred warhorse that won't flinch even at the sight of monsters."
I turned at the sudden boasting, and the knight grumbled gruffly.
"Bring it back alive. A few scratches are nothing—just another medal."
Northern men were all so steadfast. I couldn't help but laugh.
As I urged my horse forward, the captain of the Black Spear Cavalry, Kuen Lichtheim, casually made space beside him. It was right behind my uncle.
"Prime spot there."
He spoke as if doing me a favor and winked one eye.
I chuckled at the untimely playfulness and steadied my breathing.
Countless gazes bore into me. I deliberately didn't look around.
I didn't need to. I could see it all anyway.
Their faces, what they wanted to say.
The hopes and longings in those pouring stares prickled my skin.
"Your Highness."
A slender voice pierced my ear then. It was Adelia.
Unfortunately, the blade I'd honed with the most care couldn't join this fight.
It didn't fit the situation.
I'd only planned to include Adelia if the reinforcements reached Winter Castle. The idea was to hold a defensive siege until evenly matched, then fling open the gates and charge out all at once to push back the orcs and behead the Warlord. But the central lords' silence had scrapped that.
A mission like this—diving into the heart of the enemy lines, assassinating the Warlord, and breaking out—didn't suit her.
She couldn't ride a horse properly for starters, and she had no sense for situational awareness. If I took her, nine times out of ten she'd lose control, rampage, and die amid the orc swarm.
"Your Highness... please come back safe."
Her expression shifted constantly.
One moment she'd bite her lip with resolve, the next her eyes would tremble in fear. She wavered between the pressure of her [Timid] trait and the bond of [Subservience].
If her [Slaughterer] or [War Maniac] traits triggered here, she'd likely follow me without fail.
But letting the girl who'd inherited the Sword Marquis's full talent perish in a place like this wasn't what I wanted.
"Come back, and we'll see."
I leaned down and patted her shoulder. Whistles rose from around us. The knights tossed out their crude jokes.
"Grown men acting like kids. Total babies."
"Jealousy talking!"
The knights burst into laughter at my retort.
But the laughter didn't last.
Drurrruk.
Soldiers wheeled out massive contraptions to the gates. Wheels as tall as a man, stacked two or three high, with jagged blades protruding from the sides—utterly menacing.
Kiririk, kiririk. The heavy rumble of the wheels drowned out the knights' laughter completely.
The sharp tang of oil stung my nose.
"Prepare."
At my uncle's command, the soldiers manning the gates flexed their arms. Those gripping the wheels swallowed hard.
"Open the gates."
No sooner had the quiet order ended than the gates began to rise with a grinding screech. Beyond them lay a snowfield littered with corpses.
"Roll 'em!"
Vincent shouted from the ramparts, overseeing the scene. The soldiers grunted as they shoved the wheels forward with all their might.
Kurrr.
Dozens of wheels thundered through the open gates, tumbling into the distance amid the heavy roar.
"Ignite!"
Rangers loosed flaming arrows. The accelerating wheels erupted in flames with a whoosh.
"Chaaarge!"
My uncle bellowed with full force.
The two hundred knights spurred their mounts as one.
Orcs loitering right at the castle's doorstep screamed as they were crushed like drums underfoot. Two hundred horses thundered after the flaming trails left by the fire wheels.
"Loose!"
Arrows filled the sky. Ballistae boomed, and every siege weapon from the walls painted the heavens.
All those projectiles plummeted at once.
Orcs screamed and fell. The suicide squad trampled the dark green corpses and pressed on.
At last, they reached the range beyond arrows and ballistae. The fire wheels had long since shattered and fallen aside.
No more support.
From here on, they had to carve their path with their own strength.
Click.
The Black Spear Cavalry knights gripped crossbows. They burst to the flanks of the formation and unleashed a volley.
Ping!
Strings snapped, bolts flew.
Orcs roaring across the battlefield toppled like dominoes. The cavalry discarded their crossbows and couched their lances.
My uncle raised his sword.
Flash.
A blue blaze erupted. The dark green wave was engulfed in azure light. The world turned red. And a path opened in that crimson sea.
"Kuaaaagh!"
The dark green tide surged to refill the gap. That's when the Black Spear Cavalry accelerated.
In an instant, the lancers shot to the front, couching lances and lowering their stance.
One hundred as one, one as one hundred.
Those honed lance tips battered the orcs.
Boom!
Blood sprayed, severed limbs flew everywhere.
The cavalry crushed the orcs beneath them and charged on. When their momentum finally flagged, the suicide squad's formation shifted.
Before I knew it, I'd spurred my horse and lowered my stance, as if an invisible hand pushed my back.
I surged past the slowing lancers. Orcs loomed ahead.
My uncle scattered an aura blade.
The dark green wave churned again. Winter Castle knights hurled the short hand axes at their waists in unison. The orc lines crumbled helplessly.
No room to squeeze in—a perfectly organic motion.
The path forged by knights who'd forsaken transcendence unfolded before my eyes.
Excitement surged. I recited a verse. Hundreds of rings resonated in response.
A new path opened ahead.
I—we—simply charged down it.
And at last, we arrived.
At the heart of the fourteen-thousand-strong army, where the largest banner fluttered. Where the dark green tribe's king, the orcs' hero awaited.
We reached the Warlord.
Orc elite guards, each worthy of leading a tribe, blocked our way. Gripping swords and spears pulsing with red fighting spirit, they roared and charged.
"Breakthrough!"
My uncle shouted. Before he finished, the Black Spear Cavalry couched lances and surged ahead.
The mighty lances that had crushed the dark green horde clashed with the orc elites.
Boom!
For the first time, the black lancers' unstoppable charge met a solid wall.
Orc elites burst like bloody pulp in all directions. Lancers tumbled from horses, impaled and flung into the air.
Their black warhorses screamed and collapsed a beat later. Riders skewered by lance and sword groaned beneath them.
More lancers leaped over, thrusting fiercely. Blue flashes from them clashed with the orcs' red auras.
The explosion hurled elites and lancers alike.
Another wave of lancers vaulted over. The scene repeated endlessly.
And the red curtain woven by the orc elites tore apart.
Beyond it sat the dark green sovereign on a throne of bones. He gripped his spear and rose.
A horrific presence crushed the surroundings.
I gritted my teeth and recited a verse. Countless rings lent their power.
My uncle thrust his sword.
A blue light more brilliant than any I'd seen burst from the tip.
Boom!
A monstrous explosion and shockwave. Pristine snow scattered.
I charged without hesitation into that snowy mist. Into the flashing red and blue world.
The soul flame ignited.
I leaped from my horse and swung down. One of the red arcs filling the sky veered to block my blade.
The gut-wrenching impact blurred my vision.
Sky and earth flipped countless times. I slammed into the ground, dusk grinding into my face. I pushed myself up.
Piiiing.
My ears rang as if plunged underwater. My stomach churned. I couldn't hold it—wretch—I vomited. Wiping my mouth, I regripped my sword.
[...]
I reignited the blue flame that had guttered out.
A massive spear thrust at me.
As I moved to parry, something flashed past.
A pitch-black warhorse.
Black steeds streaked by endlessly. Black Spear Cavalry.
One lancer vaulted from his mount.
"...!"
The man's face shouting at me looked familiar.
Kuen Lichtheim, wasn't it?
The cavalry captain who'd winked playfully—he winked again, mouthing something at me.
"...!"
I stared blankly at his face. Then realized too late it wasn't a wink.
One eye was an empty socket. The lid torn, twitching constantly.
Ah...
"...Ha!"
He yanked me roughly. The vise on my collar snapped me awake.
"Prince Your Highness!"
The hoarse bellow pierced my ears. I startled and looked around.
Nearby, Black Spear Cavalry and Winter Castle knights held back the surging orcs. At the center: my uncle and the Warlord.
Boom!
Red and blue flashes clashed and parted repeatedly. Watching, I steadied my breath.
"Hah!"
Exhaling, I expelled the Warlord's invading fighting spirit in one go. My muddled mind cleared instantly.
Kuen slapped my back hard.
"Go!"
I launched forward. Toward the heart of the battlefield where uncle and Warlord clashed.
"You're late!"
My uncle, battered in moments, shook his sword fiercely. The Warlord staggered back from the blow.
I stood beside him, gripping my sword tight.
The Warlord's aura felt like it was shredding my skin. I resisted that overwhelming presence with every ounce of my current power.
"Late, but now let's do this right!"
I gritted my teeth and shouted. Then recited the verse.
My modest achievements piled on this frozen land, woven with the Ballerhards' centuries of longing—the [Winter's Poem].
My uncle chanted the war poem in sync, spinning his rings furiously.
In an instant, the beast's presence faded, fighting spirit rising in my heart. Blue flames surged in the dusk. At the same time, my uncle's dimmed aura blade blazed fiercer.
Boom!
The Warlord stomped the ground. Crimson fighting spirit like a tsunami engulfed everything.
In that red world, my uncle and I fought like madmen.
And we lost.