The Empire’s Assault (3)
A piercing whistle sliced through the dark night sky as arrows rained down.
“Wh-what the…!”
“The arrows are coming ba—ugh!”
Thud, thud, thud!
The arrows, returning with twice the speed they were launched, pierced through their owners’ armor, embedding themselves deep within. Blood splattered between the gleaming armor plates, and with screams, the front line crumbled.
Torches danced erratically, mirroring the soldiers’ staggering movements. Through the flickering red glow, a warrior’s shadow silently slipped in.
Crash!
A hand axe came down, splitting a helmet and embedding itself. Dalen pressed harder.
The armor and the body within tore apart with a sickening rip. The axe, redirected from the chest, swung sideways, cleaving the neck of a nearby soldier.
“Ugh…!”
A helmeted head spun through the air, the face frozen in terror. Dalen stepped forward, brushing past the airborne head. His axe sliced through the night air once more.
Slice!
An arm fell uselessly to the ground. Before a scream could escape, a head followed suit, tumbling down.
Dalen deflected a black axe blade aimed at his neck, then delivered a swift punch to the face of a soldier screaming like a demon.
He struck with the axe handle, shoulder-checked, tripped, and then kicked the fallen soldier’s head, snapping the neck as he advanced.
Amidst the chaos of arrows reversing course, Dalen’s steps were unstoppable as he plunged into enemy lines.
He tore through the enemy’s ranks without hesitation, driving straight into the heart of their formation.
There was no need to waste time annihilating the enemy here. Instilling overwhelming fear to clear a path and then rushing to Falcion with his companions was the right call.
With the city under siege for three days, wasting strength and time would only play into the enemy’s hands.
“Argh!”
A dozen soldiers blocking his path fell, bleeding onto the cold ground in an instant.
Crunch!
As Dalen’s fist caved in a soldier’s chest plate, a sharp intent targeted his lower waist.
Clang!
Even as he raised his axe to block, he was pushed back slightly. It wasn’t just a matter of strength; it was the destructive power of the sword’s aura.
”…!”
The man, surprised at how easily Dalen blocked him, tried to hide among the other soldiers.
With a light step, Dalen caught up, deflecting the instinctive thrust of the sword and reaching out with his left hand to grab the helmet.
Crack!
“Ugh…!”
The helmet crumpled as if resisting for a moment. Dalen frowned.
His strength had reached a formidable level, thanks to the blacksmith’s remains. No ordinary armor could withstand his grip for even a moment.
“Black iron armor, huh.”
Even in the darkness, the crushed helmet’s material was instantly recognizable to him.
The metallurgy knowledge left by the blacksmith was deep enough to handle dragon bones, providing him with profound insights into other materials as well.
”…And a magic sword too.”
He kicked up the fallen sword with his foot, catching it in his hand. The seemingly ordinary sword was imbued with a high-level wind enchantment.
It wasn’t just the sword’s aura that had momentarily pushed back Dalen’s axe.
A group clad in indistinguishable black iron armor, wielding magic swords and manipulating sword aura with ease.
Dalen knew the name of such a group.
“Did they sneak in among the soldiers? The Dawn Knights.”
”…Impressive intuition.”
A chilling voice slipped through the charging soldiers. Dalen broke a thrusting spear and turned his head.
It wasn’t hard to spot the voice’s owner.
The man standing idly among the soldiers looked like an ordinary soldier, but his presence was unmistakably distinct, as if he had given up hiding his aura.
The man raised his sword, pointing at Dalen, and shouted.
“Dawn Knights—devour him!”
The Dawn Knights.
Among the Empire’s knight orders, numbering in the tens of thousands, they were one of two orders created for a special purpose.
They specialized in missions that ordinary knights wouldn’t even consider, such as infiltration, espionage, and assassination.
At the same time, they demonstrated how a knight who mastered control over their body could become a perfect assassin.
‘Their main task is to strike key figures on the battlefield or blend in with soldiers to sow chaos.’
An unseen sword is far more dangerous than one openly brandished.
The Dawn Knights’ equipment was indistinguishable from that of other Imperial soldiers.
Only when their seemingly thin armor deflected arrows and swords did one realize something was amiss, but by then, it was too late. The sword techniques and aura would have already silenced the witness.
“Ridiculous.”
Thud!
Dalen swatted away a flaming sword with the back of his hand, grabbing the retreating knight by the collar and slamming him down.
“Where did the decision come from to pull an entire unit and even send the knight commander just to capture me?”
“It was the command of Sisella and his emissary, the bishop.”
”…Madmen.”
Crunch!
The neck beneath his foot snapped, blood soaking his boots.
Clicking his tongue, Dalen looked over the soldiers’ heads at the man still standing still.
Though his face was hidden by a helmet, Dalen knew exactly who he was.
The commander of the Dawn Knights. A top-tier assassin and swordsman, and a transcendent of the fifth rank.
He was also a priest of Sisella, a deity of the pantheon.
The moment he shouted, the soldiers’ demeanor changed, revealing their true nature.
“For the pantheon! For Sisella! For the Empire!”
“Argh!”
“Die! Die!”
The chaos and fear from moments ago vanished as the soldiers charged, disregarding their own lives.
Their eyes rolled back, and a divine glow flickered above their heads.
A divine magic that not only instilled courage but also numbed reason and instinct. It was more akin to a curse. The soldiers, brains fried with euphoria, rushed in like moths to a flame, only to be mercilessly cut down.
Swoosh—!
As limbs fell and bodies were cleaved, sword aura-laden attacks relentlessly pierced through.
Each strike precisely targeted vital points, with the sword’s enchantments forcing open even nonexistent gaps to aid the assault.
Though seemingly simple, countering them wasn’t easy. The Dawn Knights were all superhumans with their own domains.
Even a fifth-rank transcendent, capable of crushing them head-on, would find their stamina and strength drained by the relentless assault.
“Tsk.”
Dalen clicked his tongue lightly.
Hundreds of soldiers. Dozens of superhuman knights. A fifth-rank knight commander.
And supporting them were mages and priests.
Since he would have to join the battle immediately upon reaching the labyrinth city, he had planned to conserve his strength until then.
But with this level of force, it was a fight that couldn’t be quickly resolved without opening his domain.
‘But on the flip side… it means the Empire’s forces are that much more divided.’
These were forces that should have been fully committed to attacking the city.
By diverting a significant portion here, the siege’s momentum would inevitably slow.
In that case, rather than just shaking off the pursuit and heading to the city as originally planned, it was better to decisively annihilate the enemy forces here.
The moment Dalen stopped breaking through the enemy’s depth, his companions, having reached the same conclusion, ceased their light harassment of the mages and began casting large-scale magic.
[Sink.]
Not an incantation, but a declaration.
The mystery imbued in the bones of the earth dragon transformed the archmage’s will into a spell.
“What, what is this!”
“It’s a swamp! Be careful!”
“Argh! My leg! There’s something in the swamp!”
In an instant, the ground within a radius of several hundred meters collapsed, turning into a swamp that clung stickily to their legs.
Inside the swamp, which swallowed them up to their waists, unnaturally fast-growing stalagmites skewered the soldiers like kebabs.
Soldiers, eyes wide with pain as their lower bodies were shredded, gasped for breath before meeting their end.
Standing alone on solid ground, Dalen surveyed the scene with a detached gaze.
“Only the knights and priests remain.”
”…”
The only ones who survived the large-scale magic that engulfed the area were two groups.
The knights, who leaped out of the swamp with superhuman agility and strength, and the priests, who had retreated to the rear and barely escaped the range.
Turning his head, Dalen spotted Felber in the distance, casually raising his staff.
It had only been a few days since the grand mage received the blacksmith’s gift, yet he had already mastered it as if it were his own.
That meant I needed to step up my game too.
“Exi.”
The moment I uttered the activation word, a faint ripple spread through the air.
It was a resonance of power that felt alien, almost more like sorcery than magic.
Considering its origins in the ancient Sandstorm Dynasty, it was practically a form of shamanism.
The Sandstorm Dynasty, masters of golem creation, were also adept at the Soul Foundation, which imbued objects with spirit and will.
The Tanryeong, inherited from Delukahim, was a crystallization of that intricate process, condensed into a single incantation.
A faint hum filled the air as the knights’ swords began to tremble in their hands.
The moment they were imbued with will, the swords struggled to break free from their old owners, eager to heed their new master’s command.
Of course, unlike controlling arrows in mid-air, the knights’ grip made it difficult for the swords to escape.
And that’s exactly what Dalen was counting on.
“Lux.”
The second activation word echoed across the swamp.
Instantly, the humming swords fell silent.
“What…?”
One knight, straining to maintain control over his sword, inadvertently lifted it as its resistance slackened.
Crack—BOOM!
Before his eyes, the blade fractured and exploded, engulfing him in a massive blast.
BOOM! CRACKLE!
Explosions erupted throughout the swamp.
Flames consumed everything within a several-meter radius, while frost storms froze their owners solid.
A knight, electrocuted, collapsed with charred breath, while another, sliced by wind blades inside his armor, was sucked into the swamp’s depths.
In an instant, nearly a hundred knights met their end. The knight commander stood dumbfounded, watching the chaos unfold.
Dalen, resting a bloodied axe on his shoulder, spoke calmly.
“Correction. Only the knight commander and a few priests remain.”