Chapter 129
-KWAZIK!
― KWADUDEUDEUK!
― KWAANG!
Sounds of clashes and ruptures echoed from all around. The entire frontlines had collided.
The ground on which they stood had been frozen solid by frost. Normally, ordinary soldiers would have perished instantly—frozen to death by such frost. But...
At this moment, no one was affected by it.
A mage at the rear was delivering warmth to everyone. This was thanks to the presence of Ceres.
Even after casting such a powerful spell, she still had enough strength left to share her heat with all her comrades.
However, that was only sufficient to block off the Death Knight's frost. The squad members who got close to the creature learned firsthand that the threat posed by the Death Knight wasn't limited to just 'frost'.
― JJEOEOEOEK!
A Death Knight with a core was no mere frost-bearing dead. The blows it dealt were nearly as powerful as those of a Swordmaster, and most squad members would need a miracle just to block a single strike from it.
Even so, there were those who stood out—Frederick, who coordinated with Barnes; 2nd Fortress Commander, Hern, and Alexander.
In addition, Milon, on horseback, cut through the dead, leading his knights and disorganizing enemy ranks.
― KWAAAK!
A Death Knight's greatsword narrowly grazed past Barnes. Immediately after, Barnes rolled across the ground and drove his sword into the creature's ankle.
― KWAAAH!
But the Death Knight instantly grabbed Barnes's body with its hand. Even though he was wrapped in heat, frost began to slowly form on Barnes's collar.
The monster pressed down as if trying to crush Barnes. But the next moment, Frederick's sword pierced the beast's wrist.
― KWAZIK!
Perhaps losing its grip, the Death Knight released Barnes. Seizing the opportunity, Barnes drove his sword deep into the creature's knee.
As blue blood spurted out, the Death Knight's body showed an opening, and Frederick landed another attack.
― BUUUUNG!
Of course, they had to pull back again. The creature was the dead—mere injuries didn't significantly diminish its fighting power.
Above all, even the greatsword swung defensively by the Death Knight was threatening to them.
The enemy was immortal and wouldn't die unless its head was cut off. On this side, even glancing blows could be fatal.
― KWAZIK!
At that moment, a spear flew in from somewhere, piercing the Death Knight's forearm.
It was a precise throw that targeted the gap left by the broken armor after the last exchange. From afar, Milon—still mounted—stared at the Death Knight.
― DAKAK!
His warhorse leaped over the dead and charged toward the Death Knight. The creature raised its greatsword at Milon.
But at that moment, Frederick and Barnes launched a pincer attack from below. While the Death Knight wavered for a moment, Milon's sword flashed.
― CHWAAAK!
The Death Knight's head was severed in an instant. Milon raised his visor.
"Where is my lord?"
"Kaaak, ptooey. Now doesn't seem to be the time to worry about that guy, does it?"
Frederick spat out bloodied spit. The dead had already surrounded them in layers.
Though they had launched an offensive through the breach Ceres created, the number of the dead was simply overwhelming.
Yet, even in this chaos, Milon on horseback could quickly confirm where his lord was.
― SHUAEAEAAK! HWALEULLEURUK!
A golden flame blazed vividly among the ranks of the dead. There, someone moved so swiftly among them it was hard to even see.
The Death Knights encountered couldn't even put up a proper resistance; with every flash of the golden blade, a head fell.
Most were low-grade entities with just one or two cores, making this possible.
Milon smirked.
― CLICK.
He lowered his visor again and charged toward the direction where his lord was.
But just then—
A group suddenly screamed and plunged into the dead's ranks.
"For Incencus!"
"My life for God!"
Their true identities were the paladins supported by the Order.
Wearing thick armor and forming layer upon layer of shield walls, the paladins charged at the dead in unison.
Even if one among them was dragged away and killed by the dead, there was no sign of agitation.
To them, the walking dead were blasphemy incarnate. Just wielding their swords against such unholy beings bolstered their morale.
The paladins cloaked themselves in their sacred power. Not enough to block the frost, but it boosted their strength and vitality, and healed minor wounds.
At their head, commanding, was—the Knight Commander, Alexander.
It seemed no boast when he'd told Erich he had grown even stronger; there he was, dueling a Death Knight alone.
Even as a greatsword crushed his shield or barely missed him, Alexander's sword effortlessly stripped away the dead one's armor.
Like peeling an onion, Alexander's blade carved a quick line.
― CHWAAAK!
The Death Knight's head flew off. White-bearded Alexander curled his lips slowly into a smile.
"Allflame! Press harder! This is the time to prove your devotion!"
"Oooooh!"
Inspired by Alexander's valiant fight, the paladins' morale soared. Their faint glow gathered and seemed almost to shine like radiance.
Yet, there were those who cut quickly past the paladins—the Fortress No. 2 soldiers under Hern.
Famous for their mobility tactics, they swiftly overwhelmed enemies.
When the vanguard blocked the enemies' attacks, those in the second rank would dart out and sever enemy necks.
This was a feat possible only for the Fortress No. 2 squad, long-accustomed to working with Hern. Dual-wielding swords, Hern displayed rapid swordplay and tore through the ranks of the dead.
"Don't fall behind those crazy zealots! We move ahead of everyone—!"
Even amidst the noisy battlefield, Hern's voice rang out.
Soon, with momentum encouraged, the fortress's troops sliced through the dead army's center.
There was no hesitation in the advance led by their commander.
At the same time—
― KWAAANG!
Once again, an explosion ripped through the dead. Those caught in the blast lay on the ground, their limbs torn and groaning.
― GRRRRR...
It was Ceres's magic, hitting the mark once more. Her spell was turning the tide of the battlefield.
A chain of explosions scattered the snow and formed a misty fog. Through the opening, the barbarians poured in with battle cries.
"For the Goddess!"
"Smash those dead bastards!"
The barbarians were not used to group warfare. But their individual valor was far above average Imperial soldiers.
Hrung-ga struck with his club, shattering already-cracked skulls among the dead.
Even when facing a Death Knight, he could now handle it with the seasoned strength of a headhunter.
Every time his club, imbued with the power of cutting winds, swung—
― CHWARRRR---
Blue blood spattered, limbs were crushed. Glowing yellow, Hrung-ga surveyed the area with fierce eyes.
He then let out a breath of amazement.
[... Such crazed strength.]
Hrung-ga's gaze fell on Mikhail, who was calmly walking among the dead. Any dead that rushed him inevitably lost their heads.
Mikhail merely rested his hand on his sword. Without even drawing it, his power sliced through the dead's necks with pinpoint precision.
But when he encountered Death Knight-grade entities—
― SEOGEOK!
Mikhail's hand moved slightly, and the sword slipped back into its scabbard.
A clean strike—not only that, the lingering aura cleaved the dead behind as well.
The secret art that Mikhail taught Erich was originally his own, so it was only natural for him to use it as easily as breathing.
― KWAGAGAGAGAK!
Mikhail's slash cut through the ranks of the dead. A deep fissure remained in the path of his blade, impossible to believe wielded by a human.
He dispatched the dead charging at him without even a glance, all the while observing the battlefield.
"... This won't take long."
The corners of wrinkled Mikhail's mouth twitched. As planned by Erich, victory here was assured.
The dead, split in two by Milon's knights at the forefront, were now being encircled.
Losses were heavier in areas with more Death Knights, but every time, special units stepped forward to take them on.
With that, the ranks of the dead always collapsed, and regular troops piled into the breach.
Mikhail had to admire Erich's command. Not just swordsmanship, but battlefield tactics, executed to perfection.
Just where had this impudent disciple been and what had he been up to all this time?
Moreover, even now, Erich managed to maintain clear tactical objectives.
"... Their aim seems to be buying time. That might just be their weakness."
Mikhail's eyes narrowed. The fact that the dead's ranks were tightly packed and strung out sideways would lead to their defeat.
If they broke through the center, it would be encirclement and annihilation—just as Erich had said.
Mikhail slowly upturned his lips.
"... A guy like August..."
― JJEOEOEK!
Mikhail grabbed a charging dead by the jaw and slammed it straight to the ground.
― KWAGAGAK!
A small slash severed its neck. The dead couldn't possibly withstand Mikhail's strength.
Soon his gaze turned to where Erich's golden flame was burning.
He was deep in enemy territory before he knew it.
*
― KWAZIK!
Erich pulled his sword from the Death Knight's head. Its shattered face, blue blood and brain matter oozing, writhed in agony.
But Erich deftly beheaded the struggling creature and caught his breath for a moment.
"Hoo..."
He had more aura left than expected. Not only did he use it efficiently, but thanks to absorbing cores, his aura had increased significantly.
Erich scanned the battlefield and sensed the fight would soon be over.
'All that's left is to capture Albrecht.'
But King's words nagged at him. According to what he'd heard, Albrecht was a Swordmaster.
But even if he was, it was unknown what level he had reached.
Moreover—
The fact that the enemy was trying so hard to buy time, sacrificing so many dead, made Erich anxious.
If there was something for which the enemy would go to such lengths to stall—this "something" would surely trouble Erich's force like never before.
"... Hm?"
Just then, Erich suddenly looked off into the distance.
He saw some of Milon's knights, who had penetrated deep into enemy lines on horseback, frozen solid where they sat.
― KWADUDEUDEUK!
'Ceres's energy should have been protecting them...'
The frost was unbelievably thick. Erich narrowed his eyes.
"... Looks like this won't end easily."
Setting the thrill of victory aside, Erich began clearing the dead around him to move forward.
But before he could act, the dead abruptly withdrew. The Erich unit, seeing their vanguard frozen, also pulled back to regroup.
The next moment—Erich's eyes widened. The being before him was no ordinary Death Knight.
'Necromancer...?'
And not just any necromancer, but one incomparably more powerful than before.
The frost emanating from it made even Erich, shrouded in aura, feel a chill to the bone.
Soon, Erich realized the identity of the necromancer standing before him. There were ten cores embedded in its chest.
Even by the standards of the Great War before his regression, this was an opponent almost too powerful to handle.
But what truly shocked Erich was something else.
Though its body was shriveled and frozen, its face blue... nevertheless—
That necromancer's face was familiar to Erich.
'... Laurenti!'
The master of the Mage Tower had returned—as a necromancer.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Boss fight!
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】