Chapter 385
Bwooo—
The sound of a water buffalo horn echoed loudly from the Burgos camp.
A message was sent to all soldiers: their king had arrived in person. This news was meant to boost morale, to fill them with confidence in victory, and to urge them forward.
The main force, spread out on the left and right flanks, all dropped to their knees and bowed deeply toward the center. Timothy’s desertion was quickly pushed aside; only the king’s participation remained in their minds, pounding at their hearts.
A war where the king himself fights—there was no way they could lose. More than that, victory would almost certainly save their lives, allowing them to survive and return home to their homeland, alongside their king.
“General! His Majesty has arrived!”
“Yes. I know.”
Much time had already been lost.
So Damon set aside all formalities and ordered an immediate joint attack upon the king’s arrival. Every second counted if they were to enter the capital swiftly. The recent earthquake was one thing, but above all, they intended to finish this before the massive army from Bariel could arrive.
The general signaled to raise the banners. Then, once again, the water buffalo horn sounded.
Bwooo—
“We will advance while maintaining formation!”
“Left wing, hold your shields firmly and focus on defense!”
As they advanced with shields on the left and weapons on the right, naturally the shield-bearing left wing would be the first to meet the enemy.
The clash between the enemy’s left wing and their own would determine the battle’s outcome—whichever shield line broke first would tip the scales. So the general ordered the soldiers to tighten their formation.
The king would likely participate but not enter the fray directly. He would watch from behind. This was the perfect chance for Damon, as a warrior, to demonstrate his skills directly to the king. The disgrace from Timothy’s desertion was a stain he only wanted once.
Boom! Thud!
“What about the necromancers?”
“Yes. Each necromancer’s control over their summoned creatures has a limited effective range, so we’ve positioned them accordingly. Half will strike alongside the left wing soldiers to break the enemy lines first, and the other half will provide support from behind.”
The general stroked his beard and lit a cigarette. The smoke, deep in his lungs, always tasted good—but burning it while pretending to face death was something else entirely. When you think it’s your last time, everything takes on a deeper hue.
“You’ve considered the mages’ attacks, I assume.”
“Yes. We’ve given strict orders to the necromancers. Last time, the red-haired magic swordsman pierced through our ranks, didn’t he? Instead of responding one by one, we instructed them to cooperate and cover each other, moving in pairs at minimum. As long as the core isn’t destroyed, their power is unlimited, so we’re using that to our advantage.”
“What about Hasha, the necromancer?”
“He’s positioned on the left wing.”
“Is that so?”
“May I ask why?”
On the night Timothy fled, Hasha’s summoned creatures caused a commotion, delaying their discovery. Hasha claimed the necromantic link had been severed and then restored, but something about it felt off. Timothy’s repeated insistence on interrogating Hasha before disappearing only added to the suspicion.
The general continued smoking, then shook his head.
“Keep a close watch on Hasha. If he shows any unusual behavior during the battle, report immediately. Depending on the situation, summary execution is authorized.”
“Summary execution…?”
His subordinate hesitated, taken aback.
This was the battlefield where the king was present. The necromancers’ abilities could decide the outcome, yet the general was willing to enforce summary execution? This was unlike the man they knew.
The general stubbed out his cigarette and warned sharply.
“That’s because the king is here. We can’t afford any problems. Do I really need to explain which weighs heavier—the benefits gained from the necromancers, or the stain on my honor in a battle where the king fights alongside us?”
“No, sir. Understood.”
“Good. Now then.”
With all preparations complete, he solemnly donned his helmet and mounted his horse.
“The mages will come first.”
“Yes, General.”
“Sound the water buffalo horn. Let’s move out.”
“Sound the horn! We advance!”
Bwooo—
Thud! Thud thud!
Soldiers gripping shields as large as their bodies steeled their resolve. Among them, the summoned creatures lingered. The foul stench left some gaps in the formation, but that was acceptable—it was a deliberate spacing to guard against the mages’ area attacks.
As the general spurred his horse forward, the soldiers maintained formation and began to advance.
Clack clack!
“Forward!”
“Waaaah!”
In the distance, the violet waves of Klipoford appeared. They, too, sent soldiers forward to oppose Burgos. Their main goal was to hold the barrier, so their battle would take place near the Burgos camp.
As the horses galloped swiftly, a subordinate’s report came through.
“They’re coming! The mages!”
“The mages are here! Prepare yourselves!”
Crash!
Bariel’s mages soared into the blue sky. They shed their robes, momentarily confusing those counting their numbers.
Among the fluttering garments, a man with red hair appeared.
“Whoa! It’s him again!”
“They’re here! The red-haired man!”
Without hesitation, Beric descended toward the summoned creatures, and nearby soldiers unleashed a volley of arrows. The sunlight caught the Idgal on their weapons, making it look like stars were raining down even in broad daylight.
“Too slow!”
Swish! Thud!
Beric felt his heart pounding as he swung his sword. He could see the arrows clearly—his body was in perfect condition. Thanks to Ian’s magic infusion, no doubt, but the scent of blood was what truly stirred him.
Kraaaang!
“Ugh!”
The Burgos soldiers raised their shields in unison, bracing for Beric’s fall.
Beric crashed down, his spine hitting hard, letting out a short yell as he rolled. Through the gap, spears thrust upward—also coated with Idgal.
“Kill him! Raise your spears!”
“Huh? What? Hey?”
Beric barely kept his balance, running atop the shields, stepping carefully like crossing stones to dodge the spear tips.
But no matter how much he dodged, unless he dropped down, he couldn’t escape their attacks.
He unleashed his magic, slashing downward with his black sword. The tightly packed shield wall cracked, and he fell to the ground.
“Ugh!”
“Hold the line!”
“Guys, clear a path! I’ll cover it!”
“Push forward! It’s just one of them!”
“Front line, keep your shields up! What about the mages?!”
“They’re moving toward the summoned creatures!”
Swish!
Beric acted against his words—he said he wouldn’t kill if they cleared a path, but he moved first.
His sword strikes scattered the formation, but still, he was like a beast dropped among ants. So many swarmed him that his arms and side were slashed repeatedly.
“Damn it!”
Clang! Clang!
If they kept this up, the mages would wipe out the summoned creatures. How long did he have to keep fighting like this?
Beric climbed over the soldiers and looked toward the summoned creatures. But what was this?
“Hey! What are you guys doing?”
“Shut up! Beric! Just keep doing what you’re doing!”
“Patch up the gaps? No way! I’m going in! I’ll kill them!”
“Shut up! Follow Ian’s orders! The mages handle the creatures!”
“Those guys probably only know how to slice steaks! They can’t fight properly!”
“Quiet!”
Two mages were drawing magic circles in the air, trying to restrict the summoned creatures’ movements, while the others slowly approached, cutting off Tief’s tongue.
Frustrated by their lackluster attacks, Beric raised his head.
“Iaaaan! Those guys suck at swordplay! Can you hear me? Are you nearby?!”
Clang! Clang!
“Ugh!”
“Don’t retreat! Anyone who does will be punished under military law!”
“Advance!”
Beric fought off soldiers while searching for Ian, but it was no easy task. He had no choice but to keep breaking formation and approach the summoned creatures.
Attacked endlessly from all sides, Beric opened his magic again and swung his sword. But the soldiers, now trained, planted their shields firmly in the ground, ready to block his strikes. Whether Idgal could counter this, he didn’t know—but at least they wouldn’t be knocked back.
“How can you stop me with that crap, idiots!”
Swish!
The black sword flashed and exploded, but it couldn’t break through the shield wall.
A strange tension hung between the nervous soldiers and the confident Beric—a brief silence amid the chaos. They exchanged glances, then charged at each other again.
“There’s a chance! Kill him!”
“Yeah. It’s blocked. Damn. I was the idiot.”
Swish! Swish!
Blood spurted from the necks of soldiers falling with their helmets. Beric’s red hair was soaked—whether it was sweat or blood, he couldn’t tell.
When was the last time he’d been pushed to such extremes? Probably that alleyway fight with Ian in Bratz. Back then, he hadn’t unlocked his power or wielded the black sword, so he’d practically been drenched in blood.
“Brings back memories. Not so bad.”
Thinking of it as a month’s worth of training, Beric didn’t notice the smile creeping up his lips as he kept pushing through the gaps in the shield wall.
By that point, Clifford’s soldiers had also drawn closer to Vargas’s side.
“Woooah! Let’s go! Bariel is coming to help us!”
“Defend our homeland with our own hands!”
“Let’s punish the invaders harshly and protect our country!”
“Woooah!”
The general watching the whole scene frowned deeply. The left wing was a chaotic mess, led by that red-haired brat. And the right wing?
“The right wing…”
It was noisy as well, but the tone was different. If the left wing was like fireworks bursting unpredictably, the right wing was like a cold poison, silently killing.
Either way, the situation wasn’t looking good. They hadn’t even faced Clifford’s forces yet.
“Summoners!”
“Yes, sir!”
The general raised his hand and shouted, signaling his subordinates. Even if they couldn’t completely crush Clifford’s army, taking out a few mages would surely please the king.
They moved busily, soon blowing trumpets to alert the summoners.
Sssshhh!
At once, the composite monsters lowered their bodies, focusing on snatching the mages. Tief’s long tongue flicked and twisted with uncanny flexibility, like a toad desperately trying to catch flies.
The mages dodged incoming Idgal arrows and Tief’s attacks simultaneously, redoubling their efforts.
It was frustrating, but Beric’s words made sense. Since most weren’t battle-hardened except for those on external duty, they were struggling.
“Damn it!”
Just then, one mage was caught by Tief. The monster grabbed his wrist and was about to slam him onto its back. Even if it meant being devoured, the monster was changing tactics based on past experience.
No matter how skilled the mage, their body was still human. Being thrown onto a back covered in venomous stingers meant certain death.
“Hey!”
“Ugh!”
Sssshhh!
But in that instant, Ian sliced through Tief’s tongue in a flash. It happened so fast no one could track the attack with their eyes. All they saw was the golden gleam of his eyes and his hair, confirming it was Ian.
“Summoners’ positions confirmed.”
Ian relayed the message magically to the mages.
This was what everyone had been waiting for. Using the signal from Hasha’s composite monsters and his own location, they roughly pinpointed the summoners’ whereabouts to take them out.
Better to have the summoners bleeding than to deal with the impure substances that would spill if the monsters were destroyed.
“Ian!”
Zzzzz… zzzzz…
Ian activated a magic circle high in the sky near the summoners’ positions.
Idgal arrows rained down like a heavy storm to stop him. The mages, shielding Ian who was defenseless, kept up their protective barriers.
Sssshhh!
But at that moment—
An arrow slipped past the mages’ defenses and grazed Ian’s shoulder. He sensed something unusual and turned his head.
In the distance, a yellow wave was approaching.
“…Eriphoni.”
King Eriphoni smiled, narrowing his eyes.
“Hmm. Looks like you arrived just in time. Let’s hurry and finish this. There are too many floating in the sky—I’ll have to hunt them all down myself.”