Shield of the Rose

Under the pitch-black night sky, a giant bat-like black shadow skimmed silently past treetops.

Snow accumulated on the branches during the day fluttered down in cascades as wind generated by the shadow’s passage shook the treetops.

Suddenly, the black shadow latched onto the canopy of a tall tree towering above its surroundings, swaying twice before coming to a halt.

The tree shuddered violently, shaking off snow clumps that pelted the ground below like a hail storm.

Snow on surrounding trees fell in equal measure under the impact.

Grasping the umbrella-like tree canopy, Richie deployed a massive net. Unfolded completely, the net spanned several mu in area, pure white in tone, appearing from above like a fresh snow layer.

Though “Yaksha” was an ultra-light armor, it weighed several hundred kilograms, capable of snapping sturdy branches underfoot. Yet supported by a giant net spanning several mu of canopy, the weight distributed across countless branches without breaking a single stem.

Detaching the glider temporarily, Richie lay flat across the net with limbs spread, planting one foot against a thick tree trunk.

Though the net supported his weight, it swayed unstably; anchoring against the main trunk restored stability.

Lying on the canopy, he gazed into the distance.

Faint light shined from afar—the target he had been seeking continuously.

Haigert’s intelligence had gone outdated: the city held by the Second Corps lay in ruins. Searching the Chabern Mountains per Haigert’s guidance yielded zero trace of the Second Corps, yet flying south, he discovered agreed signal markers.

Fallen dead trees arranged in groups of three—ends joined at one point, branching apart at the other—appeared ordinary to ground observers, yet formed clear arrow symbols from an aerial view.

Following these arrow markers, he reached this location. Earlier from a thousand meters altitude, he spotted a town ahead housing troops, displaying Republic flags and armor models.

Richie refrained from approaching in haste.

Just as chubby staff officer Paro suspected, Richie remained uncertain whether it represented a trap.

In truth, Haigert seeking his aid stemmed partly from Richie’s evasive capability: absent Quasi-Glorious tier masters, zero opponents threatened his safety. Equally, accepting the assignment stemmed from Haigert’s promise that should conditions turn dire, Richie held authority to flee independently.

Scanning a five-kilometer radius, confirming zero human presence, Richie at last set his mind at ease.

His most vulnerable period occurred during ground landing breaks lasting several hours.

To locate this resting spot, he had circled the sky multiple times.

Soaring in the sky consumed vast Aura reserves; though achieving Ace rank elevated Aura strength and control far above former levels, while Yiluo’s continuous refinements extended glider flight range from two hundred kilometers to nearly five hundred, such distance remained modest across a expansive battlefield. Taking Haigert’s three-hundred-kilometer perimeter around Red Valley as an example, full coverage demanded immense range.

Setting “Yaksha” into alert mode, Richie relaxed his body completely.

Alert mode represented a newly added function, inspired by his visit to Raz’s secret observation post. Under this mode, the curved horn atop Yaksha’s head operated continuously, sweeping its directional receptor to capture subtle surrounding movements.

Thus he maintained constant vigilance while securing rest.

Relaxing completely, his depleted Aura circulated along “Celestial Hearing” pathways.

That manual offered poor Aura recovery, yet he cared little.

An exceptionally pure stream of life energy flowed continuously into his body through his perineum, crown, celiac plexus, and occipital points.

That capability originally belonged exclusively to Randy, yet he now possessed it as well.

Squad 105 members had discussed the phenomenon privately, arriving at a hypothesis.

Knight and Psion bloodlines inherited from prior civilizations were viewed as distinct lineages, yet phenomena on Richie and Randy led female knights to suspect both lineages derived from a unified origin.

Possessing knight strength alongside Psion abilities, converting external energy into Aura or mental energy rapidly—that represented the true archetype of ancient warriors.

Paired with that hypothesis came another deduction: the ancient civilization perished through total war.

Recalling ruined cities, the plausibility of that deduction proved high.

With current armor destructive power, two medium squads fighting in a city sufficed to level a medium town, whereas ancient warriors possessed strength far exceeding current knights, capable of vaporizing cities as collateral damage from single strikes.

Aura infused with mutated energy resembled ropes rather than threads, circulating slower than un-consolidated Aura, yet yielding far superior efficacy.

Completing an initial circulation circuit, subsequent control proved unnecessary, for Aura circulated automatically along established pathways.

Withdrawing his focus, Richie conducted internal searches through his body, trying to locate an exit path leading beyond his physical form.

He wished to discover the secret Nora had mentioned.

Nora never lied or spoke meaningless words; suggesting he expand internal perception beyond his physical body held genuine purpose.

The dilemma lay in Nora offering scant explanations, omitting instructions on how to expand internal perception beyond physical bounds.

Richie’s internal perception differed from ordinary internal vision: rather than pitch darkness illuminated by faint Aura glows, his organs, muscles, and vessels appeared visible, down to individual skin pores and hairs.

Yet during internal perception, his body resembled a closed world, where skin, hair, and nails formed an invisible barrier marking the boundary of that enclosed realm.

He had attempted internal perception of his eyes, yet internal vision differed from optical sight, leaving his eyes un-reactive to external scenery.

Exploring without results, Richie felt mild anxiety.

Suddenly a series of chimes startled him—an alarm set on his audio receptor.

As Richie thought: “What occurred outside?”

At that exact instant, his consciousness exited his body.

Not merely exiting his physical body, but expanding beyond his armor.

The sensation felt bizarre yet familiar—familiar because it mirrored feeling un-armored.

Surrounding objects appeared blurry: near items displayed outlines, while distant items formed vague shadows, resembling high myopia paired with astigmatism.

Yet differences extended further: vision possessed zero blind spots, though one sector appeared clear while opposing sectors formed blurry shadows.

Richie froze in shock, recalling descriptions of a similar phenomenon.

Searching his memory, realization struck him.

Richie stood completely dazed.

It was “Field”—the signature capability possessed exclusively by Honor Knights! Recalling rumors of “Field’s” magical properties, Richie tried focusing on a nearby leaf to make it move.

Waiting long moments, the leaf remained still.

Richie’s mood dropped from the peak to a low valley.

He doubted whether the phenomenon qualified as “Field”—or at best represented an incomplete form.

Right then he recalled the alarm sound from moments ago.

A shudder ran through Richie, his heart beating wildly.

This location was dangerous; seeking power aimed fundamentally at self-preservation, yet lingering here reversed priorities.

Achieving Ace rank had induced over-confidence once more.

With his mind disrupted, darkness enveloped his vision, and upon waking, his consciousness returned inside his body.

Everything returned to normal.

Beside rhythmic chimes from the audio receptor, footsteps echoed periodically.

Richie’s heart settled at last.

Disabling the alarm, he engaged the directional beacon device.

Moments later, two gliders skimmed treetops to approach his location.

Both gliders were larger than Richie’s unit, flying slower. Each glider carried two personnel—one positioned close to the frame like Richie’s flight posture, the second suspended from a steel cable underneath.

Refraining from landing in the woods, both gliders skimmed past to approach a nearby slope. Nearing impact, lower personnel dropped to touch ground, pulling steel cables tight to halt the gliders before upper personnel jumped down to touch ground.

The sequence executed with clean precision.

Packing gliders rapidly, the four figures entered the woods.

Richie jumped down from the tree canopy.

Opening Yaksha’s faceplate, Richie asked the four figures: “You arrived late; did something occur?”

“Your landing location sat surrounded by mountains, blocking signals so the beacon couldn’t locate your coordinates,” Randy explained.

It represented no one’s fault, for hiding on the canopy was risky enough without climbing exposed mountain peaks.

“These devices require further refinements,” Merlin raised one end of her glider, showing scratch marks along the wingtip and a dented leading edge: “Our kite-style flight method needs improvement as well; altitude remains low, causing unavoidable bumps.”

“Unavoidable indeed; had time permitted to master ‘Wind Master’ for free flight like him, who would choose being towed like a kite?” Rosa remarked. Between the two gliders, one was piloted by her and the second by Merlin—the sole members beside Richie cultivating “Wind Master”. This team, joined by Randy and Nora, formed an independent column alongside two other columns.

One column executed a feint toward the north led by Haigert personally.

In Richie’s view, Haigert possessed theatrical talent, for watching that column’s maneuvers convinced onlookers of a retreat to the rear.

Thousands of wounded soldiers occupied the center, guarded by heavy forces on all sides, encircled by outer knights. Reconnaissance knights guarded far perimeters—twenty kilometers ahead and behind, ten kilometers along flanks.

That column acted covertly, departing at 2:00 AM to sprint from the mountains without pause. Surrounding enemy forces monitoring the region were caught off-guard, lacking time to coordinate before pursuing tracks across the snow.

None suspected that Haigert’s column contained merely a single medium squad of battle-ready knights, while remaining knights feigned readiness inside suits, collapsing under single strikes in actual combat.

Battle-ready knights comprised the second column led by Claude.

Haigert wished not to bypass trusted subordinates, yet old friend Claude served as guest officer rather than direct subordinate.

Regrettably, Haigert’s trusted subordinates perished or sustained injuries during the prior night’s battle.

Weighing options, Haigert deployed Claude.

Among undamaged personnel, only Squad 105 members out-ranked Claude in fittingness, yet their special status prevented Haigert from commanding them directly.

Deploying Claude held another rationale: trustworthiness. Claude shared acquaintance with Second Corps Commander Mosalai, who trusted Claude completely.

Trust surpassed talent in strategic importance.

Haigert, Mosalai, and Claude knew one another from the Knight Academy. Mosalai out-senior-ed them by several classes, yet sharing similar temperaments and backgrounds brought them close.

Graduating from the academy, Mosalai joined regional knight corps, Haigert followed the same path, while Claude remained in Peines.

Sharing proud temperaments and unyielding natures, distinct environments shaped contrasting career paths.

Mosalai acted prudent, Haigert acted unconstrained, both winning favor from regional leadership before joining the Junior Army. Joining during the Junior Army’s lowest ebb when members departed, both earned rapid promotions.

Three years later as border conditions worsened, leadership loosened constraints on the Junior Army, elevating both into the youngest corps commanders across the Republic.

Conversely, Claude in Peines interacted with high officials, who valued his talent yet disliked his uncompromising nature against political corruption. Sidelined continuously, an Ace Knight was assigned to police duties before being exiled from Peines to Polmo.

Yet exile to Polmo turned into his career turning point.

As Haigert executed his plan, Varedin Supreme Commander Corsak stared with a gloomy expression at a recording inside his office.

A light point shone amidst dark night skies, surrounded by vague shadows. The supreme commander inspected the blurry footage repeatedly.

Beside Corsak stood another individual—head wrapped in bandages, one arm in a plaster cast.

“Rash! Extremely rash! You should have retreated immediately, abandoning the operation!” Corsak slammed his desk.

Though scolding Anderson without mercy, Corsak intended zero punishment, for under identical conditions he would choose to attack as well.

It stemmed from confidence in personal strength alongside reluctance to abandon the feint force—an act earning permanent career blackmarks under any commander.

When intelligence of the defeat arrived, Corsak inspected Anderson’s record, developing favor toward him. He had resolved to sideline Anderson temporarily before assigning important duties once defeat impacts faded, unaware Anderson harbored monumental intelligence.

Scolding Anderson, Corsak paused, his tone turning sinister.

“How many others know of this detail?”

Anderson sighed in his heart, having anticipated the supreme commander’s question.

“Only personnel retreating alongside me know. I grouped them into a single squad, ordering silence. They are trusted knights who understand the intelligence’s weight.”

Corsak stared at Anderson, recognizing his plea for subordinate knights.

His mind evaluated options rapidly: executing knowing personnel offered absolute secrecy.

Yet was it worth the cost?

The Monstoke Republic was meat on a chopping block, its secret technologies destined for exposure to Alliance nations within half a year. Disheartening subordinates over temporary secrets proved unwise.

Corsak looked at Anderson, developing higher regard for his character.

Until meeting him, Anderson bore defeat blame silently without leveraging the intelligence for self-exoneration—intelligence worth losing a corps over.

Pondering options, Corsak decided to grant Anderson face.

“Listen: I’ll issue orders grouping those personnel into an independent unit… assigned under the Secret Operations Bureau under your command. The unit reports directly to me, and I’ll arrange a secret base for you.”

Corsak gained an inspiration: though the secret faced exposure in half a year, holding exclusive knowledge allowed them to strike before Alliance partners.

“Rise from where you fell! You’ve witnessed Monstoke’s flight technology, grasping its value better than others. Upon completing reorganization, your unit will focus exclusively on this objective,” Corsak ordered.

“Yes, sir!” Anderson stood at attention to answer.

“Dismissed.”

Corsak waved his hand, ordering his adjutant to retrieve all intelligence regarding Haigert once Anderson departed.

Haigert was a modest figure in Monstoke’s Junior Army, yet represented an unknown name to Alliance leadership—serving as a corps commander of Ace rank within a third-tier nation.

Even with Haigert inflicting defeat on Imperial forces, Corsak paid modest attention initially, viewing small victories as inconsequential against Imperial power.

Yet Anderson’s recording forced Corsak to evaluate Haigert closely.

Intelligence regarding Haigert arrived on Corsak’s desk shortly after.

Material filled a dozen pages, detailing Haigert’s life up to his Acting Corps Commander appointment.

Yet Corsak found missing answers.

The data revealed zero rationale for Haigert participating in high-secrecy programs.

Varedin had paid modest attention to Haigert, missing his failed tactical experiments and joint creations with Richie.

A laboratory and clothing shop appeared unworthy of high-level focus.

Right then, his adjutant delivered additional intelligence files.

“Intelligence personnel extracted these files just now.”

Files lay un-organized on the desk.

Corsak picked up a page—an operational report highlighting Haigert’s name in red ink.

He understood intelligence officers had searched archives to recover associated documents.

“They expect me to organize these files for them?” Corsak felt exasperated.

Suddenly his expression froze, picking up a page recording front-line troop movements.

Important names and locations were written in colored ink, where beside Haigert’s highlighted name stood a red-ink location—Polmo.

Corsak read carefully, his brows furrowing.

“The unit fleeing Polmo vanished upon entering Haigert’s defense zone—why was this un-reported to me?!” Corsak roared, his voice echoing to lower floors.

His anger was justified, for Monstoke’s sole item drawing high-level Alliance interest was new magitech armor development.

“Neglecting such vital intelligence qualifies as dereliction of duty!” Corsak’s eyes flashed with anger.

Beside anger lay deep suspicion.

A unit fleeing Polmo crossing battlefronts to reach Haigert held underlying reasons.

Did Polmo test not only new armor models, but that mysterious flight craft as well?

Corsak recalled discussing Polmo’s breakout with the “Dwarf Inspector”, where they assumed underground tunnels enabled the escape. Now he realized zero tunnels existed, for entry and exit occurred through the sky!

Corsak searched through the file pile, focusing on sensitive terms like Polmo, Yiluo, new armor, and observer nations.

A hat-sized metal disc hung from the highest tree canopy, trailing a fine wire connecting to Randy’s armor headpiece.

Five Yaksha armors possessed distinct appearances: Richie’s suit featured a curved horn, Randy’s suit featured a hat-shaped plate, Merlin’s suit featured thorn chains, Nora’s suit featured curved ram horns, while Rosa’s suit retained original styling. Richie stood beside Randy holding a marked map dotted with red locations and numbers.

“F7 and H12 host two large squads; A17 to D9 host scattered small units; K3, G5, H8…” Richie read coordinates—his scouting results—transmitted continuously by Randy to distant Psions mapping the data.

Shortly after, Psion maps matched Richie’s document.

“Transmission completed on that side,” a Psion stopped writing, looking up at a horse-faced officer with a high forehead.

That officer was Mosalai, acting with caution distinct from Haigert. Inspecting map markers, his brows furrowed into deep lines.

Had Haigert not guaranteed accurate intelligence, he would dismiss the document as fake.

His corps had possessed the highest reconnaissance knight numbers in the second war zone, lending units to Haigert’s assault corps, yet had failed to achieve such comprehensive intelligence.

“Order forces to prepare,” Mosalai instructed subordinates after long thought.

Current conditions forced his hand: map markers proved Alliance forces had finalized encirclement rings, leaving him to survive two weeks at most before total annihilation.

Officers under Mosalai understood their predicament, executing orders without complaint.

The quiet town turned bustling as soldiers ran through streets, armor mechanisms clanking as knights prepared for breakout or death.

Mosalai boarded his armor—resembling Haigert’s heavy suit with skeleton gaps.

“Dear Commander, what are our odds of breaking out?” a youthful voice echoed through the channel.

The pleasant voice proved un-distinguishable by gender—belonging to Mosalai’s daughter.

“Feeling nervous?” Mosalai’s tone turned gentle.

“It’s my debut battle!” the girl acted spoiled.

Mosalai held zero words, usually feigning strictness to restrain her mischief, yet lacked heart to scold her amidst uncertain battle prospects.

“One detail puzzles me: why hasn’t Haigert come personally to rescue us? Even if absent, why deploy this unknown Claude rather than Martin or Skava?”

Mosalai smiled bitterly, harboring private doubts.

“Watch your words,” Mosalai chided gently, explaining: “Claude is far from simple; I knew him at the Knight Academy. In talent, he out-ranked Haigert and me, though encountering poor fortune… yet he remains a trusted comrade.”

Just as Haigert evaluated, Mosalai trusted Claude, knowing his uncompromising nature held him back despite superior capability.

While others prepared, Richie and Nora hid in the woods.

Richie stood against a tree, Nora wrapping her legs around his waist, hands gripping the tree trunk that bore deep scratch marks.

Both acted with quiet intensity.

Richie’s shaft penetrated deep into Nora’s body, his testicles inserted into her anus alongside a trailing wire.

Though vibration intensity was set to minimum, the stimulation proved intense; others would achieve multiple climaxes with limp legs.

Increased experience expanded appetite, fitting intimate routines; after days of practice, both adapted to intense stimulation.

Adapting to intense stimulation rendered standard intimacy bland. Richie worried not about Squad 105 knights, but feared Emily’s group couldn’t endure his touch.

After an unknown duration, Richie felt a strong urinary urge, his glans shuddering.

Suddenly sharp pain surged from his shaft base, startling his mind. Knights were formidable, yet that area possessed zero physical resistance.

Before reacting, his body turned numb as a fine finger pressed his shaft base.

“Stay still; no one wishes to damage your precious asset, which belongs to everyone rather than you alone,” Randy’s voice echoed from behind.

Randy held a syringe filled with pink medicine, pushing fluid into Richie’s body.

As fluid entered, Richie’s lower body felt on fire.

It represented internal heat rather than desire, surging from his testicles to circulate between his perineum and tailbone.

Thoughts raced through Richie’s mind.

What medicine had Randy injected into him?

Did Randy’s group resent his interactions with other women?

Richie knew medicines existed to restrain male infidelity.

Sensing Richie’s tension, guessing his thoughts, Randy laughed aloud, holding her syringe steady.

Richie felt terrified while immobilized, listening as Randy explained: “Rest assured; this is medicine we procured to treat male reproductive health.”

Randy omitted the source out of embarrassment, for Trisli provided the medicine.

Knights experienced lower fertility rates than ordinary people; ancient empires maintained superior knight numbers through specialized fertility research.

“Must it be injected right now? This easily induces impotence!” Richie complained.

“Unavoidable; this medicine requires injection during peak arousal, and as for impotence…” Randy laughed softly: “Rest assured; medicines exist for impotence as well. Besides…”

She licked the needle site at his shaft base: “Can this shaft suffer impotence? If it did, fewer girls would suffer.”

Nora kept silent per routine, though playful eyes exposed her prior knowledge of the prank.

Richie disbelieved medicines required peak arousal injection.

Before planning revenge, he felt his testicles kneaded firmly.

Nora deployed that move—an unexpected turn to Richie.

Testicles represented the second most fragile body part beside eyes; kneading them inspired painful, swelling heat that felt baked over fire.

Sweat dripped from Richie’s forehead, forming tiny pits in the snow.

Nora raised her brows, discovering a detail.

Leaning to Richie’s ear, she whispered: “You’ve discovered the secret I mentioned; I sense your change.”

“It’s ‘Field’? Recon knights acquire ‘Field’ upon rank breakthrough?” Richie sought confirmation.

“Yes,” Nora answered simply.

Richie understood that seeking details required asking specific questions for Nora to confirm.

“Because scout knights possess stronger mental energy than ordinary knights?”

“Highly probable,” Nora paused, adding: “Extremely probable.”

Richie knew Nora’s habits; adding words proved she shared the view.

Possessing an incomplete “Field” validated selecting “Celestial Hearing” for bottleneck breakthroughs; he would select “Celestial Hearing” for Honor rank breakthroughs to acquire “Domain”—a formidable combat asset.

Suddenly another thought surfaced in his mind.

If scout manuals yielded vast benefits, why not attempt Psion manuals?

Haigert mentioned knights cultivating Psion manuals without Aura conflict, for Psion manuals boosted mental strength exclusively. The flaw lay in slow progress and modest efficacy for knights.

Cultivating scout manuals resembled gambling, whereas cultivating Psion manuals resembled planting a home garden for modest gains—though rare individuals cultivated grand results.

Yet Richie’s mind grew active, contemplating pursuing both paths simultaneously.

He wished to let Nora test the path as well.

Suddenly Richie looked at Randy behind him.

Randy appeared fitting to test the path—perhaps proving most suited for it.

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