Chapter 110 : Absolute Suppression in Battle
Chapter 110: Absolute Suppression in Battle
In York Town, Administrator Piero and the Gentry Families were clashing in secret.
Knight Wolf turned a blind eye to it.
Bishop Corleon of the Church merely observed in silence. As the training sounds of the one hundred eighty guards of the Church grew louder and more synchronized, the movements of those Gentry Families gradually quieted down.
They also slowly began sending the age-appropriate youths from their families into the Monastery of the Church, while Piero, too, gradually sent those with York Town family backgrounds into the Southern Villages, reluctantly sharing a weakened portion of the village guards' power.
As the Monastery of the Church gave the apprentices their first day off to return home and demonstrate what they had learned within the Church, the half-month-long standoff finally came to an end.
Marquis Demitri’s Territory.
Night. Flames soared into the sky.
With a furious roar from Darks, the burning Manor’s main gate was slashed open by the giant sword in his hands.
"Kill those who oppress us, and liberate our fellow companions who suffer from oppression and exploitation here!"he roared.
Behind him, those thin-bodied individuals, whose eyes alone reflected the firelight, shouted loudly, brandishing stolen weapons and charging into the manor.
Suddenly, a wave of force exploded from within the manor, shredding the invading refugees into pieces.
Darks’ eyes abruptly shrank.
"It’s a Knight!"someone shouted with a tinge of fear.
"So what if it’s a Knight—he is still an oppressor, still a barrier to our path toward the Heavenly Kingdom on Earth."Darks bellowed toward the inside of the manor.
Then, suppressing the fear in his heart, he swung his greatsword and rushed in.
It was a Fully Armed Knight.
Outside, a family-crest-bearing cloth wrapped around solid plate armor. The exposed edges of the armor underneath the cloth gleamed faintly with a touch of pale gold.
The Knight held a small iron-bound round shield in one hand, and in the other hand, he wielded a two-handed greatsword only slightly smaller than Darks’ own.
On his head was a helmet like an iron bucket, with only two narrow slits.
Darks could not see the Knight’s face, but through those two slits, he seemed to glimpse mockery.
"Oppressors must all disappear from this world."he roared, swinging his greatsword in a slash.
"Heh."Darks seemed to hear a disdainful chuckle.
Then, without even moving his body, the Knight simply raised his arm and lifted the round shield, blocking Darks’ charge-empowered slash entirely—as if striking a solid mountain, completely immovable.
"I know you lot, a group of rebels from the York Territory."The Knight’s voice was somewhat muffled.
"You’ve been attacking villages here, killing the local gentry, inciting this mob to rebellion."
"I’ve also heard the rhetoric you used to bewitch the mob. I must admit, it’s quite compelling."
"At least, for them."
"But it came from the Church in York Territory, didn’t it? What’s your connection to them?"
The Knight stood motionless, while sweat trickled down Darks’ forehead. His arms began to tremble involuntarily.
"Huff…"Darks forced his breathing to stabilize, then swung again.
Bang, bang, bang.
The Knight stood firm, wielding the two-handed greatsword in one hand and the round shield in the other, blocking Darks’ attacks.
"No need to speak, it’s just the Church after all."
"I recall the lord there has changed—not that cowardly and sly Helvin, but Pegiraov."
"My father once worked with him. Father told me he was a kind and generous man."
"This armor I wear was a gift he gave to my father. It was so precious that my father dared not let the Marquis find out."
"If the lord were still here, and if the werewolves weren’t so rampant, this armor might have remained hidden in the family cellar forever."
"And judging from the fact that you could leave York Territory intact, he truly is a merciful man—he even tolerates a Church in his land that dares to speak such things."
The Knight’s muffled voice remained calm.
Darks halted his attack, panting heavily, and looked at the man before him.
"I don’t care about the Church or some lord’s mercy. All I know is that I must kill you all. Only then can we reach the future we long for,"he said.
"Is that so? Looks like you’re just the Knight who leads the charge. The real leader must be the one behind you."Saying this, the Knight raised his greatsword.
"Then, you’re no longer of use."
As the words fell, the Knight suddenly charged.
Boom! Darks’ body was sent flying, fiercely smashing into the outer wall of the manor.
Marquis Demitri was a textbook war noble. He would never, like Helvin, strictly forbid the use of brick and stone in the construction of manors within his territory.
And even this solid outer wall of the manor was left with a dent from Darks’ impact.
"Kuh…"Darks spat out a mouthful of blood.
He felt several of his ribs break, his spine shattered, and he could no longer feel his lower body. Even grasping his greatsword was difficult due to the pain in both arms.
"Judging by your physical aptitude and strength, you could barely qualify as a Prospective Knight."The Knight slowly approached.
"For someone of commoner origin, that’s already quite impressive."
"If this had been an ordinary Knight’s manor, perhaps you really could have led these commoners to break through."
He stood in front of Darks.
"Unfortunately, you encountered me."
The Knight raised his two-handed greatsword with one hand.
"Any last words? As a reward for your courage, I’ll allow you to speak."
Darks only widened his eyes, his face contorted in pain, coughing up a mouthful of blood from his throat.
"Seems like… you can’t speak anymore.
"What a pity."
"But don’t worry, I’ll be sending your lord down to join you shortly."
Saying that, the greatsword descended.
Pupils shrank, Darks gripped his greatsword tightly, trying to block.
Perhaps because death was approaching, in Darks’ vision, the descending greatsword slowed down.
Even he could clearly see the swing of the powerful Knight.
But now, Darks, with his heavy arms, was no longer able to lift his weapon to parry.
He could only watch helplessly as the sword came down.
Then, it stopped just as it reached the tip of his nose.
"Is this—mercy?"Darks’ pupils trembled.
He felt no relief, only rage.
Still, struggling to shift his head away from the blade’s edge, he slightly raised his head and looked toward the Knight.
Only to see the Knight’s body frozen in place.
Even the fluttering cloak had come to a complete halt.
Darks did not understand the reason, but he knew—this bizarre state was his chance.
So, he struggled, laying his body on its back, using the last ounce of strength in his hands to thrust the greatsword into the gap beneath the Knight’s helmet.
Blood flowed.
Zezel, at some unknown time, sat by the wall, body wrapped tightly.
Extremely small and thin, if not for the color of his face, one might have mistaken him for a pile of stones against the wall.
"You killed a Knight, Darks."he said.
“...” Darks opened his mouth but could not utter a sound.
"No, you will not die." Zezel said.
"This Knight’s armor is a Holy Relic. It will allow you to move like a normal person. It will let you live. It will make you stronger."
"So, you will not die. You still have to lead them in building a true Heavenly Kingdom on Earth."