Episode 157
It was impossible.
No matter how much of a genius the “Black Prince” of the Saxon family was, or how impossibly strong he was for his age, what Dale was demonstrating now surpassed even the realm of monsters.
Thud!
The cavalry of the Temple Knights charged with their lances, only to be effortlessly repelled by the heavily armored infantry clad in the armor of the undying.
Elsewhere, the lines of Lancaster and York clashed, and even among the nobles, the balance of power began to shift.
There were areas where the Church was pushing forward, and others where the Saxons were breaking through. The lines twisted and turned, clockwise and counterclockwise, and in such chaos, only one thing mattered.
The central axis that held the lines together.
Guarding that center was the Shadow Lord and his Black Armor Company, while the Black Valkyrie and Shub’s tendrils held off the Master Templars in the sky.
This was war. No matter how exceptional Dale was, he couldn’t oversee every skirmish across the vast battlefield.
There was a vast difference between observing the battle from afar and being in the thick of it.
Just then, a report came in from afar: the Blue Rose Knights were retreating, pushed back by Lancaster’s Rose Cross Knights.
Even amidst the chaos, messengers hurriedly moved between units, delivering reports, and Dale made his decision.
“Relay this to the entire Black Armor Company.”
The Shadow Lord spoke, swinging his sword, Peacemaker, at the Templar charging at him.
“Maintain the wedge formation. Our heavy infantry will break through the enemy’s central line.”
“Understood, Captain!”
Sir Yones shouted, and the command spread through the chain of command to the thousand-strong heavy infantry.
“Inform the Night Raven Knights on the left flank and the Grave Guard.”
Dale instructed the waiting messenger.
“Once we break through the center, I’ll give the signal. Until then, hold your positions and do not advance.”
Typically, the strongest cavalry would be placed on a flank to break through and encircle the enemy in large-scale battles.
But this was no ordinary battle. The Master Templars in the sky could maneuver freely, and if they charged the flanks, Aurelia alone couldn’t hold them back.
Yet they fought desperately above Dale’s head for one reason.
Because the “Black Prince” was there.
By positioning himself at the forefront, Dale ensured the enemy couldn’t ignore him. If he were defeated or captured, the battle could end instantly, but Dale continued his tightrope walk for one reason.
It made reading the enemy’s intentions easier.
An enemy leader stepping forward was never something to be ignored, especially when considering the power of an extraordinary force like Dale in this world.
And so, the Shadow Lord and the renowned Black Armor Company began to move.
From the center where the two forces clashed, they aimed for the enemy’s heart.
They weren’t cavalry, so they lacked speed and maneuverability.
Yet the presence of the steadfast heavy infantry advancing through the fierce battlefield was undeniable.
Above all, the weight of the Shadow Lord, leading as the standard-bearer of the black armor, was immense. Once infamous as the Black Prince, he now charged toward the heavens, like a demon’s army advancing skyward.
Desperate to hold their lines, the Church’s Templars dismounted and formed defensive formations.
“Gatling style, 20mm.”
At that moment, behind the Shadow Lord, a dozen black barrels began to take shape.
The first weapon of mass destruction to change the course of war.
A barrage of darkness rained down.
But the enemy was no mere rabble. They wouldn’t be easily wiped out by a hail of bullets.
As expected, the white mages’ chants began, and the celestial realm’s protective light descended upon them.
Simultaneously, the blood angels fighting desperately in the sky began to descend.
They dodged Shub’s tendrils and Aurelia’s sword, aiming for Dale, clad in his dark armor.
“My lord!”
Lady Shadow’s cry rang out, but Dale remained unfazed. As if expecting it, he turned.
“I’ll handle the sky.”
“Protect the captain!”
Dale muttered briefly, and the hundred-strong Black Armor Company swiftly formed a defensive formation around him.
At the same time, the black barrels behind Dale tilted upward.
Black bullets rained down on the blood angels.
They spread their wings to dodge the bullets, and Shub’s tendrils seized the opportunity.
Thwack!
A tendril pierced through a blood angel’s wing.
“Aaah!”
The blood angel screamed in agony as he plummeted toward the ground.
Toward the Shadow Lord’s feet.
“Just because you fly with wings in the heavens, do you think it will save your life?”
The Shadow Lord asked the fallen angel. Before he could answer, Shub’s tendrils struck again.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
The blood angel’s crimson wings began to swell grotesquely, as if hundreds of worms writhed beneath them.
“Praise… praise…”
The Master Templar, reborn as a dark angel, began to murmur.
But it was not a hymn to the goddess of sisterhood and compassion.
It was a dark, unspeakable praise to the “Mother of Ancient Darkness.”
And it was only the beginning.
From the dark armor enveloping the Shadow Lord, black tendrils emerged once more.
The “Black Death” began to consume the blood angels, one by one, like plucking flies from the air.
“Target the enemy leader! Focus all power on him!”
Seeing Dale systematically slaughtering the Master Templars in the sky, the Church grew desperate.
“Protect the captain! Do not break formation!”
What was that black armor of blood? They didn’t know. But the Church knew one thing for sure: that armor’s darkness was the perfect counter to the Master Templars’ “blood armor.”
This made them even more anxious. The Shadow Lord’s single-minded breakthrough, and the shift in the battlefield’s flow that the Black Armor Company would bring.
The ongoing skirmishes weren’t meaningless. They maintained a precarious balance of power.
In this situation, the Shadow Lord’s presence was like tipping the scales.
“Summon all of Lancaster’s Aura Masters on the right flank!”
“Gather all reserves to the center! Break through the Black Armor Company at all costs!”
Orders clashed with orders, and in the already chaotic situation, the Church’s battle lines began to tangle.
“We die where we stand!”
“Do not let them break through!”
Yet the Black Armor Company’s defensive stance, clad in the armor of the undying, remained unbroken.
And when Dale, alongside Aurelia and Shub, began to consume the “blood angels” in the sky, the tide of battle finally began to turn.
The celestial realm, conjured by the 7th-circle white mage Borenius, was gradually swallowed by the darkness of a winter night.
The celestial light was fading.
A mage’s realm reflects their heart. As one of the few 7th-circle mages on the continent, his realm was a “heaven” in itself.
The undefeated mage, whose soldiers never lost when he conjured his celestial realm.
Except against the Empire’s monster… the otherworldly hero.
His realm, which should have been invincible, was being devoured by the world of a mere fifteen-year-old.
As a mage against a mage, and as a leader and warrior commanding the battlefield.
From the rearmost position, where he accelerated his seven circles, Borenius could sense it.
As the celestial realm was swallowed by the darkness of a winter night, the Black Armor Company began their steady advance toward the heart of the church’s forces.
On the left flank, the Night Ravens of House Saxon moved in unison, mirroring the central assault.
The central and left wings launched a direct offensive against the celestial forces, leaving the church’s troops sandwiched in between, their fate all but sealed.
Reports came in that the Lancaster knights had broken through the Saxon flank and were attempting an encirclement, but by then, it was too late to matter.
“No, no…!”
Borenus had been certain of victory. They had the advantage in both numbers and quality of troops, and he believed the gap in magical prowess was equally in their favor. He was wrong.
Despair tightened its grip on Borenus’s heart as the celestial light faded like the fleeting dusk.
It was then that he heard a voice behind him.
“So, you were here.”
Borenus turned, his breath catching in his throat.
A young boy stood there.
“Ah, to think the mercy and grace of the Sister Goddesses still linger in this land.”
The boy’s eyes were covered with black bandages.
“Identify yourself!”
Several knights, tasked with protecting Borenus, readied their swords at the sight.
Few could enter this realm where two high mages wove their worlds. The Templars, wary, demanded answers, but the boy merely laughed.
“I have no business with the dogs of Sistina.”
With a snap of his fingers, the knights collapsed as if their strings had been cut. It was instant death, and not even Borenus, a 7th-circle white mage, was spared.
The celestial light vanished.
The hymn of magic, meant to echo endlessly, fell silent.
‘What is this…?’
A feather-like stillness descended, and in that moment, the Shadow Lord held his breath.
‘Surely, they don’t intend to surrender now.’
The celestial world conjured by the 7th-circle white mage dissipated, but that was not the end.
Another ‘world’ began to consume the space, swallowing the celestial light in darkness. Yet, it was not the winter night of Dale.
“Ah, we meet again at last.”
A voice emerged from the darkness.
The Templars blocking Dale’s path parted like the Red Sea.
“My daughter, and the false blood of Saxon.”
Between them, the silhouette of a young boy appeared.
It was the same boy, his eyes hidden by black bandages.