Chapter 148. An Invitation to Darkness (3)
“Uwaaack!”
A huge shadow descended from the sky and disappeared.
In its wake, only the horribly crushed corpse of a soldier remained.
“The tree over there is our target!”
“The first one to reach it will be given gold coins!”
Bigrove’s soldiers were storming the Gorge Where Even Tears Dried Up.
They had succeeded in moving without Quiesco noticing by passing through the land of a friendly lord.
“When will they arrive?”
However, while they could deceive Quiesco, they could not escape the eyes of the griffin riders guarding the highest parts of the World Tree.
“I sent a soldier last evening, so even if they come as fast as possible, it will be around dawn tomorrow!”
At the answer of the Quiesco centurion guarding the Spirit Tree, Beronion bit his lip.
‘Too late.’
The griffin riders had discovered a suspicious group approaching the Spirit Tree.
Using their unique elven abilities, they had found out that a wickedly evil entity, never seen before, was hiding among them, and they had quickly sent griffin riders to Norington and Quiesco to request aid.
However, no matter how quickly they had discovered it, their response was late compared to the fully prepared enemy.
“We cannot fall back! This land will become a hope for us, Quiesco!”
The Quiesco soldiers, who had been intimidated by the enemy forces that outnumbered them more than tenfold, steeled their resolve once more after hearing the centurion’s words.
They knew well.
That the reason the land they stood on was gradually becoming richer was because of the tree standing behind them.
And that this land, full of abundance, would become the stepping stone for the people of Quiesco to rise again.
“For Quiesco!”
“For Lady Isabella!”
Although they were few in number, the soldiers who had shared hardships on the cold ground burned themselves up and reformed their ranks.
“They’re coming!”
The soldiers of Bigrove began to charge at them like a tidal wave.
Those blinded by the merits of the battlefield and the promise of gold coins did not hide their desires, slashing and cursing at the Quiesco soldiers.
‘Help me!’
Beronion, watching the scene from the sky, quietly closed his eyes and cried out to the beings that existed but were unseen.
The wind began to flutter Beronion’s hair.
“To those who seek to harm the order of nature, show them your wrath.”
The unseen beings began to reveal their forms at Beronion’s fingertips and gather.
Following Beronion’s will, a small whirlwind began to blow through the battlefield rampant with screams and shouts.
It, which had been rotating slightly at the soldiers’ feet, grew larger and larger according to the will of Beronion and the spirits.
“What is this!”
“A gust of wind!”
Eventually, it began to grow so large that even those who were not qualified to see spirits could recognize it.
“Sweep them away!”
As Beronion swung his hand with fury, a huge storm began to descend upon the soldiers of Bigrove.
“Uwaaack!”
“Get down!”
The Bigrove soldiers, flustered by the sudden and fierce gust of wind, quickly hid behind their shields and lowered their bodies to avoid the wind, but.
“Kuaargh!”
The blades of wind hidden within the gust began to mercilessly sever their limbs.
The fierce and sharp storm, along with the screams of the Bigrove soldiers, began to be stained red with their blood.
‘Damn it!’
Despite successfully blocking the soldiers, Beronion and the griffin riders could not hide their frustration.
Dozens of knights had charged out from Bigrove’s formation and were now rushing towards the Quiesco soldiers.
They ignored the storm created by Beronion and his squad and ran towards a single target.
Towards the young Spirit Tree, trembling in fear.
“How dare you!”
One of the griffin riders attempted a rapid descent to stop them, but one rider alone could not subdue dozens of knights.
“...!”
The void knights, except for the targeted one, quickly scattered and avoided the griffin’s claws.
They dodged and parried the incoming wind blades with their swords and finally succeeded in reaching the Quiesco soldiers.
“Block them!”
The soldiers thrust their shields and swords at the centurion’s desperate cry, but unfortunately, as ordinary soldiers, they lacked the strength to resist the existence known as knights.
“Uwaaack!”
“Don’t fall back!”
The void knights slaughtered the Quiesco soldiers and ceaselessly pushed forward.
Although the Quiesco soldiers blocked their path with all their might, the void knights lightly ignored their struggles and charged towards the Spirit Tree.
“Stop them!”
Beronion, who had taken on the entire burden of creating the storm himself, commanded the remaining griffin riders, but it was impossible for them, numbering less than ten, to stop the dozens of knights rushing toward the Spirit Tree all at once.
Beronion felt a great sense of frustration as he watched the scene.
He wanted to rush to the Spirit Tree himself right now, but if he did, he would no longer be able to hold back the Bigrove soldiers with the storm, and if he stayed here, the void knights would reach the Spirit Tree.
In a dilemma, Beronion heard the young Spirit Tree’s whimpers.
If only they had just one more knight.
If only they had one more knight of a level who could change the flow with his own power.
If only that were possible, he could wipe away the tears of that little one.
“...!”
At that moment, a griffin flew past over Beronion’s head.
“Count Blanc!”
The squad member who had been sent to Norington for aid looked at him with goggled eyes and gave a gesture of success.
“It’s done!”
Beronion turned his head and looked at the figure falling from the griffin.
“Within my sword, I shall contain a weight that never wavers!”
A knight descending from the sky, invoking his Mental World.
He beheaded the void being that was brandishing its ominous sword at the Spirit Tree in one fell swoop.
With a presence that overwhelmed everything.
Even the whimpering young Spirit Tree stopped crying for a moment and looked at the knight standing up in front of it.
“I don’t think I’m late.”
The knight who had fallen from the sky swept back his hair and said to the griffin riders nearby.
“I came here at his request.”
His gray hair, sparkling in the sunlight, came into Beronion’s view.
As far as Beronion knew, the hair color of Count Blanc, whom he had been waiting for, was black.
“The Seeker of the Blue Star has guided me here.”
The gray-haired knight said, shaking a brooch that shone blue.
That brooch was a medal of honor that the young Saintess had personally pinned on the Seeker of the Blue Star who had saved her.
“My name is Gornas Balthazar.”
The Sword Saint of the previous life had arrived here now to protect the young Spirit Tree.
***
“Hmph!”
Hansen parried the sword of a void being rushing at him.
‘Damn it!’
Hansen, who had lost his physical strength but was doing his part with his seasoned experience and improvisation, was in a very bad situation.
“Hah!”
The things that were relentlessly rushing at him, realizing that Hansen’s presence was unusual, repeatedly attacked and retreated, focusing on draining his stamina.
‘These cunning bastards!’
The void beings were making the best decisions with their cold reason.
They flicked their black tongues as they watched the old knight who would soon collapse from exhaustion.
“Kraaaaaaah-!”
However, their laughter did not last long.
Because there was a grayish-white werewolf, crazed and rampaging under the power of the full moon.
The blue moonlight of the full moon made Rakshar stronger but also paralyzed his reason.
However, unlike usual, Rakshar had no intention of controlling the madness flowing through his blood.
“Die! Die---!”
There was a young boy who had pounded on his hut with hands covered in dirt and sweat, with the burning mansion at his back.
Losing his mother, losing his father.
“Just how long are you going to torment my young master!”
He remembered himself, carrying his young master, who had lost everything, on his shoulders and running away.
Being weak, he could do nothing else.
He could only flee from the darkness and malice.
In the midst of countless hardships, his young master had taken the lead himself, but he, who should have been protecting him, was standing behind him.
“Grrrrrraaaaaaa--!”
The gray werewolf, burning with guilt, anger, and pity for Blanc, let himself go and tore at the void beings.
His mouth, which had abandoned reason, was stained with dark red blood, and instead of the broken claws that could not withstand his powerful strength, he tore at the void beings with his newly grown nails.
“Gasp... gasp...”
Hansen watched the struggling Rakshar and Sten and tried his best to find an escape route.
His exhausted fingertips were trembling ceaselessly, but Hansen tried hard to ignore the danger signals his body was sending.
Because he was prepared to offer his old body for a single moment.
“Isn’t it time for you to retire?”
At that moment, a familiar voice he had heard somewhere before came from behind Hansen.
“Isn’t it because you left the knight order without my permission that you’re going through all this trouble?”
In an instant, a shadow rose up behind Hansen.
It instantly leaped over Hansen and the void beings, faster than anyone else here, and cut down the things that were rushing towards Ciella, bypassing the knights.
“With an iron-wall-like stance that cannot be pierced by anything.”
A brown-haired knight who firmly blocked Ciella’s path, chanting the Tolome family’s secret art.
Ciella unknowingly looked at his flapping left arm.
“It is a pleasure to meet you for the first time, Countess. I am Stefan Tolome, the Knight Commander of the Tolome Knights.”
His left arm flapped powerlessly in the wind, but his remaining right arm maintained a powerful presence, cutting down the void beings rushing towards Ciella.
It was a movement that was unbelievable for a one-armed man.
“I have come to repay a life debt.”
The one-armed knight smiled under the blue moonlight.
***
“Gurgle-! Gurgle-!”
Count Lacie was pinned to the wall by Blanc’s sword and struggling, but his movements were not large.
Because his arms and legs, which should have been moving, were all cut off.
Blanc, having opened the bottle with his teeth, poured its contents onto the head of Count Lacie, who was struggling while pinned to the wall.
“This wine is for my father.”
The red liquid flowed down the head of Count Lacie, who was gasping for breath from a pierced lung.
“I will take out the remaining grudge on Bigrove.”
Blanc, having offered the wine for Pallard Cadmus, led his knights and quickly ran towards the secret passage on the third floor.
Having done his best for the things he had to protect, it was now time to confirm their safety.
Behind Blanc and his knights, who were hastily running out of the banquet hall, the gradually rising sun approached.
When the darkness was finally lifted by the sunlight and the banquet that had taken place within it ended, the scene that was revealed was all red.
Amidst the crimson-stained floor and walls were the mutilated corpses of the void knights.
Their faces were all contorted with fear and the powerlessness it brought.
“Gack-!”
There was Count Lacie, dying as he took his last gasp of breath.
In his fading consciousness, Count Lacie thought about where it had all gone wrong.
From the moment he listened to Ensadu?
From the moment he fought with Blanc for the hegemony of the south?
No.
Count Lacie realized that choices and decisions from much earlier had made him who he was now.
That high place he could not reach.
Those shining things he could not have.
He realized that his ruin had begun from the moment he could not stop his greed for them.
***
What will a human at their limit choose?
It was the fate of all mortals to have no choice but to accept their own limits.
The scarred man, who had felt his own limits more than anyone else when he faced the Void in his previous life, was already answering that question.
Blanc held the crying Ciella in his arms and bowed his head to those who had come running to his aid.
Norington had been shaken once again today by the void-stained Count Lacie, but the things Blanc had prepared in anticipation of his limits had answered his call.
“Thank you all for coming to help.”
Blanc knew well that he could not solve it with his own strength alone against the great Void.
It would have been the same even if Ulrich had been standing in his place.
That is why Blanc had struggled so hard, gritting his teeth, to climb to a higher place.
So that he could shout from there for all to hear.
“Please help me. Bigrove is still after us.”
So that he could cry out for help.