Chapter 439: The Knight

Inside the Rockhold Fortress, within the mage tower that controlled the magical focal points, a fierce but brief battle had just ended.

The once radiant and magnificent Arcane Hall, glowing with magical brilliance, was now a scene of utter devastation. Explosions triggered by the attackers and bursts of magical energy had left shocking damage everywhere—walls pockmarked with craters, floors torn apart by blasts, and steel supports that once held rune stones now melted into twisted heaps of molten metal sprawled across the ground. At the hall’s entrance, two arcane statues that had once guarded the chamber lay shattered into lifeless obsidian fragments scattered about. In the center of the hall, the massive circular magic array was reduced to faint scorch marks vaguely shaped like human figures and scattered pieces of armor.

Sir Mariland arrived at the scene as quickly as possible, standing dumbfounded at the hall’s entrance, staring at the ruin before him in silence.

“The fighting was concentrated inside the tower,” the mage advisor beside him reported, “There’s no sign of combat outside the tower or at the nearby outposts. The attackers’ tactics were strange—unlike anything we’ve seen before. They unleashed a rapid series of explosions in a short span, leaving scorch marks and blast damage everywhere. The guards seemed to have been killed before they even had a chance to react. Also, we found this next to the remains of one of the obsidian golems.”

Mariland looked at the object the advisor handed him: a twisted, broken blade—part of a sword or dagger. Along its side were faint runes and embedded alloy components. Judging by its craftsmanship and design, it was definitely not made within Rockhold Fortress, nor did it resemble any standard weapon issued in Ansu.

Only the blade remained; the hilt was missing.

“Cecile’s weapon!” a southern knight who had followed Mariland exclaimed the moment he saw the broken blade, then quickly explained, “General, this is an extraordinary weapon. Its magical blade generates intense heat, capable of slicing through lightly armored soldiers and their armor in an instant. One of my own men was killed by a weapon just like this…”

Hearing this, Mariland suddenly recalled another recent event: Viscount Carol’s fatal fall from the terrace. There were no signs of a struggle on the terrace, so it was assumed the viscount had slipped and fallen on his own.

The banquet had been the previous night, and since then, Viscount Carol had not been seen. Everyone had assumed the always anxious viscount had simply retired early due to his low tolerance for alcohol.

The attack had taken place inside the mage tower, catching everyone off guard and killing them in the hall. Outside, there was no sign of battle.

The Cecilians were inside the city—and had been for some time. They were either hiding among the tower’s guardians or had already earned their trust.

The forces guarding the mage tower and the inner city walls were the southern nobles’ troops, specifically under Lady Ropeni.

A deep sense of dread gripped Mariland’s heart, accompanied by the distant sounds of unrest and faint explosions coming from the direction of the city walls.

This was a war… a real war?

“There’s a traitor inside the city… Where is Lady Ropeni?!” Mariland demanded.

The nearby guard knight answered immediately, “The lady hasn’t been seen on the walls since this morning. Her personal guard is also missing.”

Mariland shouted an order, “Send out a search party at once—”

Before he could finish, a disturbing howling noise suddenly echoed from the upper levels of the mage tower. Mixed within the howl were sounds of something breaking. The knights and soldiers present instinctively looked up, but Mariland and the mage advisor both paled—they knew what the sound meant.

It wasn’t the tower itself—it was something connected to it: the fortress’s magical barrier.

The barrier linked the fortress walls and every mage tower within the city. When the shield weakened, the first to react were the magical crystals atop the towers.

Without hesitation, Mariland led his men rushing outside.

The mighty Rockhold Fortress was now filled with rising howls, accompanied by a deep, rumbling roar—the sound of the city’s protective shield trembling on the verge of collapse. The air inside the shield vibrated in resonance with the shaking walls. The faintly glowing magical barrier was now covered in ripples, pale cracks spreading from the top of the walls up into the sky. By the time Mariland burst out of the mage tower, the ripples had already covered nearly two-thirds of the sky.

This seasoned knight had never faced such a hopeless situation before. Yet, at this moment, he calmed himself. Fixing his gaze on the disintegrating magical shield, he pressed a hand to the hilt of his sword and asked the mage advisor in a low voice, “Master, how long will the shield hold?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe less,” the advisor replied. “I’ll lead the surviving battle mages to the walls to recharge the shield with our own magic. That might buy us three to five more minutes.”

“Don’t waste magic,” Mariland interrupted. “Using manpower to fight that kind of weapon is pointless. Let the battle mages conserve their strength for fighting inside the city.”

He then turned to his most trusted subordinate, the guard knight who had served him for years.

This knight was likely one of the strongest warriors in Rockhold Fortress besides Mariland himself.

The city’s shield would hold for twenty minutes. After it fell, the southern walls—reinforced with metal—could withstand the Cecilians’ “Heavenfire Explosions” for at least several dozen minutes. Even if the enemy’s “Heavenfire” crossed the walls and entered the city, it would only destroy surface structures inside the second wall. The magical focal points and main runes of the shield were buried underground.

There was still something to be done before the walls collapsed completely.

“Hold this city,” Mariland ordered his guard knight. “Also, find Lady Ropeni and her missing guards. They’ve likely betrayed us. Once confirmed, they must be dealt with before they cause more damage.”

The guard knight’s eyes widened. “General, what are you going to do?”

“I swore on my family’s honor to defend Rockhold Fortress to the death. Now it’s time to fulfill that oath,” Mariland said, gripping his sword hilt firmly, each word clear and resolute. “If I succeed, the Cecilians’ assault may be stopped. If I fail, your loyalty ends—you take the survivors out the North Gate, to the capital, and report everything about Rockhold’s fall to Prince Wales.”

“General! I’m going with you!” the guard knight said immediately. “I swore to follow you on the battlefield forever. To flee now is neither knightly nor noble!”

“The era of noble wars is over!” Mariland stared hard into the guard knight’s eyes, then his tone softened. “The era of noble wars is over.”

…

Knights with courage stepped forward. Under the fortress commander’s lead, a knightly order began moving toward the southern gate. Mariland mounted his trusted warhorse, watching the gate draw nearer.

Outside the walls, the magical barrier was on the brink of collapse. Large chaotic ripples drifted across its surface, and some areas had already developed magical voids. In these breaches, wild surges of magic crackled like lightning, leaving destruction in their wake.

Groups of southern knights and noble soldiers fled down from the walls, some even nobles themselves.

Just moments ago, they had been shouting and boasting atop the walls.

Seeing these disgraceful men, Mariland’s mind flashed with a sudden thought:

Why had he ever accepted these people?

When had the nobles of this kingdom become like this?

Though he wanted to ignore them, Mariland couldn’t help but rein in his horse and shout at the panicked southern knights, “Ladies and gentlemen—if you still have any honor left as nobles, as knights, then at least maintain order inside the city! Rockhold Fortress has not fallen yet!”

Without waiting to see how many heard him, he turned his horse and charged forward.

Enemy saboteurs had infiltrated the city, ready to wreak further havoc.

Without a commander, the fortress’s order would collapse into chaos.

The fortress’s highest commander should never leave the stronghold lightly in such a moment.

Mariland knew all this.

But someone had to stop those two ships—and the terrible weapons they carried.

Ordinary soldiers and lesser knights would be walking into certain death. Only a high-ranking knight like himself, covered by the knightly order, had even a slim chance.

This was the value of formidable personal combat power.

The city gate opened, and a sharp, acrid smell hit them.

It was the unique scent of intense arcane energy surging through the air, breaking down certain substances.

The knights looked up, eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear, at the two beams of light directly above them.

From this vantage point, the beams were even more terrifying—pure arcane light pouring down like twin rivers of radiance onto the faltering magical shield, like majestic auroras slowly crushing the city beneath their weight.

Rockhold Fortress, built by the Second Ansu Dynasty with countless resources and the highest royal magical expertise, had stood for a century on this land. Now, under the onslaught of arcane torrents, it was inching toward its end.

This fortress was meant to defend against the Cecile family, but in the past hundred years, the Ceciles had never once struck back.

Many only realized this now—this was the Ceciles’ first attack on Rockhold Fortress since its founding.

“Don’t look up—keep your eyes forward!” Mariland raised his longsword high, then pointed it toward the Baishui River. “No stopping!”

The knights lowered their visors and began to accelerate alongside Mariland’s warhorse.

Most of them would not survive this charge. In truth, even if they reached the Baishui River alive, most would be useless—the two ships were anchored in the river’s center, and as masters of the land, the knights were powerless against warships floating in the water.

But Mariland, a high-ranking knight, could do it—high-level supernaturals had countless ways to ignore the “terrain obstacles” of a river. Once close enough, a high-ranking knight could disable the magical devices on those two ships.

The knightly order charged forward.

(End of chapter)