Shield of the Rose

Soft, rhythmic moans echoed within the compact underground chamber. The sound possessed an intoxicating melody that would ignite undeniable desire in anyone who heard it.

At the center of the room, two naked bodies were intertwined, writhing and thrusting in intense, continuous motion.

Surrounding them, several female knights lay scattered across straw mats. Some bore expressions of complete satisfaction, while others flushed with vibrant anticipation.

After an unmeasurable passage of time, the woman beneath Richie extended her legs straight, her toes tensed to points, as her pale, smooth thighs trembled uncontrollably.

Moments later, the intense rhythm gradually subsided into stillness.

Withdrawing from her tight, slick body, Richie sat cross-legged on a straw cushion, his brow slightly furrowed.

The female knights watched quietly from the side, none daring to interrupt his concentration.

Within Richie’s body, a complex blend of various Aura attributes swirled alongside a unique energy absorbed from Randy.

Most of these foreign energies felt as smooth and enduring as fine silk. In terms of pure quality, they far surpassed his native Aura.

As his internal Aura cycle circulated, these newly acquired energies gradually dissolved like snow beneath bright sunlight. The dense, silk-like threads melted away, dispersing into a refined, intangible form.

Though the temporary density diminished, the newly generated Aura proved exceptionally pure, devoid of any harsh elemental attributes.

Unfortunately, what came swiftly also departed rapidly; the newly generated Aura dissipated at a rate he could clearly perceive.

After another lengthy period, the rate of Aura dissipation finally slowed down.

Richie halted his internal circulation and shook his head toward the surrounding women.

“Don’t be discouraged. This is completely normal—we’ve all experienced bottleneck periods,” Jiulin comforted him from the side.

The youngest of the three sisters scoffed softly, “Is there really any need to be so gloomy? Most knights who manage to reach a bottleneck stage would be too thrilled to sleep!”

She was referring to her own past experience. In fact, aside from Rosa and Nora, whose exceptional aptitudes and specialized disciplines guaranteed eventual advancement to Ace Knight status, the three sisters had considered reaching an Ace Knight bottleneck an unattainable dream. When they had first encountered their own bottlenecks, their excitement had been beyond description.

Richie smiled weakly. Because his personal advancement path had progressed with unprecedented smoothness, he couldn’t empathize with the ecstatic joy ordinary knights felt upon reaching a bottleneck. Instead, he felt deep anxiety over his currently sluggish Aura growth.

Comparing his current progress to his past trajectory: when he first awakened as a knight, his Aura grew at a walking pace; after acquiring his first dual-cultivation manual, it accelerated to a sprint; once he obtained Lina’s superior dual-cultivation discipline, his Aura surged like a wild steed at full gallop. As more female knights joined their shared practice, that steed upgraded from a thoroughbred to a legendary mount capable of traversing thousands of miles a day. But now, he felt his Aura growth crawling like a snail, yielding only minuscule progress with each intense dual-training session.

“Even though it’s a bottleneck, when I advanced from apprentice to official knight, it didn’t feel like this,” Richie grumbled.

His complaint elicited soft scoffs from the women.

“Advancing from apprentice knight to official knight—you call that a bottleneck?”

Jiulin smiled warmly and explained, “The beginning of a knight’s path is the easiest. The success rate from apprentice to knight is nearly one hundred percent. But advancing from an official knight to an Ace Knight has a success rate of less than one-twentieth. The vast majority of knights remain trapped at that barrier for their entire lives. And moving from Ace Knight to Honorary Knight is even harder.”

Her words brought Merlin’s thoughts to the prodigy Trisli.

The success rate of advancing from Ace to Honorary Knight varied by nation. Established empires possessed proprietary secrets. In Trisli’s homeland, the Oulm Empire, roughly one out of every hundred Ace Knights successfully attained Honorary Knight rank. The ancient Parkington Sacred Kingdom boasted an even higher ratio.

The Republic, however, presented a disappointing contrast, lagging several times behind the ancient empires and even trailing behind its aggressive neighbor, the Varedin Empire. The Republic was widely regarded as wealthy but militarily weak, and its low ratio of Honorary Knights remained a primary reason.

Lina set her sights even higher: “The real difficulty lies further up. Advancing from Honorary to Glorious Knight presents two distinct bottlenecks at once, one of which involves the mind and spirit. Whether one breaks through depends entirely on fortune and comprehension.”

The other female knights lacked Lina’s lofty perspective, with the three sisters taking a pragmatic view: “There’s no need to break through both at once! Breaking through even one is incredible. A pseudo-Glorious Knight might fall short of a full Glorious Knight, but compared to an Honorary Knight, the difference is like night and day!” the eldest sister remarked with obvious admiration.

“Don’t limit your vision,” Lina interjected. “I ignore most of what my old man preaches, but one principle he stated is undeniably true: the breadth of your vision dictates the height of your achievement. If you believe becoming an Ace Knight is your limit, then that is as far as you will ever go.”

Within Squad 105, only Lina possessed the stature to lecture the three sisters. Amusingly, while the sisters and Lina clashed most frequently and rarely cooperated in battle, they always took Lina’s tactical and philosophical advice to heart.

Slowly rising to her feet, Lina walked toward the adjoining washroom as the evening’s dual cultivation came to a close.

Passing by Richie, she paused momentarily: “Rushing won’t help. The more anxious you become, the harder it is to break through.”

“You’re not the first to tell me that,” Richie gave a self-deprecating smile. “My master was the first, and Commander Haigert said the exact same thing.”

“In that case, simply treat each session as enjoyment. Relax your mind, and the breakthrough will come naturally when the time is right.”

In the past, such advice would have suited Richie perfectly, but his perspective had shifted.

Having witnessed endless casualties, some people grew numb while others developed an intense dread of death. Richie embodied a mix of both: on the battlefield, sword strikes and gunfire failed to rattle him, as his mind focused entirely on combat maneuvers and eliminating enemies.

Outside of battle, however, a nagging apprehension plagued him, convincing him that his strength remained insufficient.

This insecurity had grown increasingly pronounced as each female knight in their squad achieved Ace status.

Stepping out of the underground chamber, Richie found the night air crisp and dark.

Although Squad 105’s compound was partitioned from the main military encampment, Richie and the women no longer spent whole nights in the underground room, returning to their respective quarters after training to maintain military decorum.

“Someone’s outside,” Nora remarked, glancing out the corridor window.

The group gathered near the window to look out.

Beyond the compound perimeter wall, a solitary figure paced back and forth in the darkness.

Recognizing the silhouette, the female knights lost interest immediately. “He’s looking for you,” Lina patted Richie’s shoulder.

Richie recognized him as well—it was Commander Haigert.

Haigert obviously couldn’t enter unannounced. Though he knew Richie’s secrets and what Squad 105 conducted in the basement, such matters were kept to private banter between friends; publicly, he maintained complete ignorance.

Furthermore, Dana stood guard outside. Though she shared an intimate relationship with Richie, as his master, she rarely engaged in romantic indiscretions before the other women, sharing perimeter guard duty with Robin.

Glancing up at the pitch-black sky, Richie felt a surge of mild annoyance—it was already past midnight.

Still, since Haigert had personally come looking for him, he needed to address him.

Exiting the compound, Richie walked directly over: “Searching for me at this hour?”

Haigert’s expression remained relaxed and unbothered, displaying his usual casual demeanor: “Nothing specific. I felt restless and took a walk, eventually finding myself wandering over here.”

It was true, though not entirely candid; halfway over, he had realized he was heading toward Squad 105’s compound, and could have turned back at any moment.

“Care for a cup of something warm? As long as it isn’t alcohol,” Richie offered. He had nowhere pressing to be, as returning to his quarters was merely a formality.

Dual cultivation provided restorative benefits equivalent to light sleep, keeping him energized without full rest.

“I have coffee and tea at my post,” Haigert accepted readily. Pacing outside had crystallized several strategic thoughts in his mind.

At the center of Red Valley’s garrison, Haigert’s command headquarters remained brightly illuminated.

The area was partitioned by a knee-high wall of stacked sandbags, leaving a single entry checkpoint.

In other corps, Richie often observed officers and soldiers stepping over low barriers carelessly. But in Haigert’s encampment, no soldier dared breach regulations.

Despite holding the post of Acting Corps Commander, Haigert’s quarters were modest, containing only a folding desk and a filing cabinet beyond standard furnishings.

Leaning lazily back onto his cot and offering the sole chair to Richie, Haigert dispensed with formality.

After dispatching an adjutant to brew coffee, Haigert lowered his voice: “I need your assistance with something. Inspecting the recording devices in those suits of armor isn’t appropriate for me or you directly. But a few individuals can do so without scrutiny—namely Yiluo and Trisli…”

“I knew you’d bring me a difficult request,” Richie chuckled. He had executed a similar maneuver when passing recording data of his swamp battle against Varedin Honorary Knights in Polmo to Haigert, though Squad 105 lacked their current high-level prominence back then.

“Don’t act like it’s a monumental hurdle. I know it’s simple enough for you,” Haigert countered, aware Richie would negotiate.

“Why not approach them yourself? Given your current stature, Yiluo would certainly grant you face.”

Richie spoke accurately; as a prominent figure among the Young Faction officers and Acting Corps Commander, Haigert represented an ally Yiluo’s faction sought to court.

With a wry smile, Haigert admitted, “I prefer not to owe them major favors. Returning a favor to their faction carries too high a strategic price. I’d much rather owe you.”

“Because owing me costs less, or because you don’t intend to repay it at all?” Richie teased lightheartedly.

Had Richie just arrived in Peines, he wouldn’t have grasped the political nuances. But now he understood completely: high-ranking commanders avoided asking favors from foreign figures whenever possible.

“I’ll ask on your behalf,” Richie agreed, confident of success.

“My thanks,” Haigert smiled, adding, “There is one more matter I need your help with.”

“You certainly know how to work a man to the bone,” Richie grumbled playfully.

“Hear me out before refusing,” Haigert explained quickly. “I’ve been formulating a plan to rescue our corps trapped in Polmo. Those corps commanders are mostly old friends of mine or affiliated with the Young Faction.”

Richie understood the situation well. The Second Theater served as the stronghold for the Young Faction, with Theater Commander Wallen maintaining close ties to its leadership.

Wallen’s strategy had proven effective: when the enemy launched their sudden offensive, four theaters were overwhelmed, requiring massive reinforcements to stabilize. Only the Second Theater held its ground, allowing Wallen to retain his command title.

However, High Command had allocated no additional reinforcements to Wallen, forcing him to secure acting corps commander titles for his trusted officers to reorganize existing forces.

“How can I assist? My squad might be recalled to Peines at any moment,” Richie noted.

“I don’t require your entire squad—just you alone,” Haigert clarified. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to engage in direct ground combat. Individual martial prowess has limited impact in large-scale corps engagements.”

Richie realized immediately that Haigert sought his unique aerial capabilities.

Evaluating the proposition, Richie recognized that he currently commanded the skies without aerial opposition.

If Haigert merely required high-altitude reconnaissance, the mission carried minimal risk. Furthermore, rescuing those trapped corps commanders would bolster Haigert’s operational strength, solidifying his command structure with seasoned, loyal officers.

In knightly culture, a life-saving debt carried immense weight. If Richie participated in their rescue, those commanders would owe a debt of gratitude to both Haigert and Richie directly.

“I’ll help you,” Richie agreed without further bargaining.

Leaving Haigert’s quarters, Richie headed toward Yiluo’s research precinct.

The area was heavily guarded with high perimeter walls to protect sensitive magitech components. Given Richie’s status as the lead field tester and secondary authority behind Yiluo, sentries admitted him without hesitation.

Inside, researchers bustled about under bright lights, cataloging data from recent combat tests.

“You actually found time to visit me?” the stout Yiluo greeted Richie, his eyes slightly bloodshot from long hours.

With the prototype testing virtually complete, Yiluo led Richie into his private laboratory.

Inside, a sharp, acidic scent filled the air. At the center stood a large glass tank filled with liquid, containing a bare “Yaksha” frame without armor plating.

“Is this for me?” Richie asked, intrigued by its biological, streamlined aesthetic.

“Remember when your female companions synthesized that activated metal?” Yiluo explained. “You were the first to suggest utilizing bio-derived materials for armor construction.”

Inspecting the frame, Richie noticed its smooth, organic contours, devoid of standard industrial springs or hydraulic dampers.

“What base material did you use? Leather?” Richie inquired.

“Leather possesses insufficient bio-activity, so I used live bio-materials—primarily intestinal and diaphragmatic tissue,” Yiluo answered nonchalantly.

Richie winced slightly at the thought of wearing internal organs.

Noticing his reaction, Yiluo chuckled: “Uncomfortable? Do you like paper currency?”

“Currency? Of course.”

“Your nation’s paper notes are crafted from processed linen rags, yet you handle them without complaint,” Yiluo remarked with a grin. “Theoretically, this frame self-repairs like your master’s knight blade and offers superior responsiveness. But we won’t know its true performance until field testing.”

Shifting to his primary errand, Richie requested, “Can you provide me a copied set of the streamlined combat recordings?”

Yiluo agreed readily, offering a condensed forty-four-hour compilation for Haigert to review.

Later that night, Richie sat before dual recording projectors in a quiet room, watching the wall-projected footage.

The first-person perspective displayed fluid, high-speed combat maneuvers. Recognizing the elegant combat style, Richie identified the pilot as the prodigy Trisli, whose agile movements manipulated enemy knights into friendly fire.

Watching her fluid maneuvers, Richie felt a surge of admiration, though he refrained from blindly copying her style. Master Dana had instilled fundamental techniques and practical combat reflexes in him, emphasizing that individual style must suit the knight’s core traits.

Reflecting on his personal growth, Richie recognized the root of his current bottleneck: he had yet to define his definitive core path.

While his divine technique, True Light Wheel Cut, delivered overwhelming power, it could not serve as the core discipline for breaking through. Core breakthroughs required dedicated personal disciplines, whereas dual-cultivation methods served secondary functions.

His options were limited:

His early heavy defender discipline was low-tier and long abandoned.

Wind-Control Art allowed aerial flight—a unique and valuable trait—but remained in an intermediary stage of development. Locking it in as his core path now would limit its ultimate potential.

Heavenly Hearing served scouting functions, offering specialized sensory utility without enhancing offensive power.

As he pondered his choice, distant artillery blasts echoed through the night sky—signal guns warning of an enemy attack.

Richie bounded to his feet, locked the research room, and dashed back toward Squad 105’s quarters.

The compound hummed with urgent activity as the female knights prepared his equipment. The silver “Yaksha” armor stood ready by the transport vehicle with its hang glider attached.

Donning the Yaksha, Richie launched down the runway into the snowy night.

Ascending to six hundred meters amidst heavy snowfall, Richie observed distant armor searchlights through his observation scope, estimating an approaching enemy force of at least four hundred suits—a full battalion.

Suspicious of such an overt front-line advance, Richie suspected a diversionary tactic reminiscent of the Battle of Morena.

Opening his comms channel, he contacted Calli: “An enemy battalion is advancing brazenly from thirty kilometers south-southwest. I suspect another concealed force is maneuvering elsewhere.”

Calli grasped his implication: “Shall I contact Haigert?”

“Yes, advise him to maintain high alert across all sectors,” Richie requested.

Resolving his internal hesitation, Richie felt his mind clear. Choosing to act decisively rather than overthink political fallout, he banked sharp into the night sky, soaring toward Sector Six to hunt for the hidden enemy force.

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