Boom! Boom! Boom!!
Countless arrows blazing with golden light poured down from the sky like a storm.
The sheer force drove Leonor back more than ten meters.
And that was not the end of it. The screams rising from behind him only added to the crushing pressure.
Enduring the searing pain, Leonor forced himself to turn around. The sight that met his eyes left him stunned.
The black-robed knights who had come with him were all pierced through with golden short arrows, already dead.
Leonor struggled back to his feet, fury and unwillingness churning inside him.
He opened his mouth as if to roar.
But as the rain of arrows finally began to die down, he lowered his head and looked at his greatshield, now riddled with holes, his shattered greatsword, and his ruined armor.
The anger that had just flared up in him was instantly snuffed out.
Even a greatshield strengthened with an Ash of War could not hold against it. The gap between them was simply too wide.
Swift, ruthless methods. Overwhelming power. This was the Tarnished's answer to him.
The knight on the white warhorse came to a stop before him. The Pureblood Knight's body was already full of holes.
And yet he still stood straight, head slightly raised, his gaze hard and unwavering.
"Who are you, really?"
The silver-haired knight seemed to let out a faint sigh, but said nothing. He simply reached up and removed his heavy helmet, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful face.
"It's you... Golden Needle Knight Nolan Bethel!?"
Leonor cried out despite himself. The man before him felt like someone who had suddenly stepped out of a bygone age.
He would never forget that face.
Because of this man, the Dynasty's plans had failed. Not only had its existence been exposed to several Demigods, even his lord had been seriously wounded because of it.
Though he was an enemy, he was also a man who had fought Lord Mohg in a battle of Lords. That alone showed how terrifying his strength was. Losing to him was nothing strange.
"I did not lose unjustly. Since you've already driven me into a corner, why not finish me?"
"What are you waiting for?"
Leonor threw down his ruined shield and broken sword. Looking at the Lord standing before him, silently watching him, he could not help but feel confused.
"Brave hero, I intend to give you a chance," Nolan said calmly.
Silence followed.
The warhorse let out a low neigh, its hooves scraping restlessly at the ground.
The scattered cavalry began to gather toward where their lord stood, and the white banner whipped freely in the damp breeze.
It was only a few short seconds, yet in that moment they seemed to stretch on without end.
"Are you insulting me?" Leonor looked at that transcendent figure, almost like a god descended, yet showed no fear.
"Of course not." Nolan gently shook his head, his tone even.
Another silence.
"What chance?"
"A chance to live. A chance to walk beneath the light."
"How laughable."
"What a pity."
A sigh. One swing of the sword. One hero fell.
Nolan had not known him for long, so naturally he had no time to mourn the death of a Pureblood Knight.
Still, he did find it regrettable that he had failed to win over a hero like him. He was badly lacking this kind of mid-to-high-level fighting strength under his command.
To be honest, Nolan felt no dislike toward this knight at all. He even respected his resolve to remain loyal to his lord to the death. That was exactly why it felt such a waste.
"This time, I've really made a name for myself," Nolan murmured.
Whether they hated him, loved him, or had never even heard of him before, they would all soon know his name.
And with that, his goal had been achieved.
Fame itself did not matter. What mattered was spreading the news that this name had returned to the world.
"A Tarnished ruling over a land and its people... no one has ever done that before."
"I wonder what those few will think, and what kind of Finger Maiden the Two Fingers will send."
Nolan did not hold any deep reverence for the Two Fingers.
He simply wanted to see how efficient a Finger Maiden really was at strengthening someone.
Besides, he had already possessed Grace before becoming Tarnished. If he only now wanted to guard against the Golden Order, he was far too late.
Nolan turned his head and glanced at Nepheli and Vyke, who had remained silent behind him the entire time.
He turned around and guided his horse back the way they had come.
The battlefield was a complete mess.
It looked a little better than a village after a raid, but there were clearly far more bodies scattered across the ground.
A quick glance showed one or two hundred people lying in pools of blood. At most, this had been a small village battle.
The casualty rate had not even reached twenty percent before the enemy army scattered and fled. It was exactly the sort of performance one would expect from a baron's troops.
A soldier hurried over, dropped to one knee, and reported to his commander.
"My lord, in this battle we eliminated more than a hundred enemy soldiers, and over five hundred have surrendered!"
"The pursuit units have not returned yet. Once the fighting fully ends, the number of prisoners will likely be even higher!"
As soon as Vyke finished speaking, everyone around him widened their eyes in disbelief.
Soon after, cheers erupted from every direction, rising and falling like thunder.
When the battle first began, the difference in numbers between the two sides had been obvious. Their side had been clearly outnumbered.
Most of the soldiers had also never fought in battle before. They had no real combat experience at all.
When they saw nearly a thousand enemy soldiers advancing like a black tide, it would have been a lie to say they felt no fear.
At that moment, the only thought in their minds had been to hold the line no matter what.
As for winning, none of them dared hope for it.
Yet after a hard fight, they had somehow achieved such a decisive victory.
"Gather the remaining troops. Try to persuade the prisoners to surrender. As for the villagers who refuse to submit... give them some money and let them go."
Standing where he was, Nolan had already made up his mind.
Those nobles had come looking for trouble. Now that most of the obstacles had been cleared away, their territories could not simply be ignored.
Even if the villagers were sent back home, as long as they continued living on this land, they would eventually become subjects under Nolan's rule.
For ordinary people, their greatest wish was simply to survive.
If they had not been forced into desperation by swords and spears, they would never have stepped onto such a brutal battlefield. There was no need to wipe them out.
With a smile, Nolan spoke loudly to those gathered around him.
"I will never forget the achievements you have shown today. Everyone in the territory will remember them as well."
"And of course, the runes you deserve will not be short by even a single one!"
Both praise and rewards were offered without restraint. His words swept through the crowd like a warm spring wind, lifting every soldier's spirits.
In an instant, thunderous cheers erupted.
"Long live Your Lordship! Long live Lord Nolan!"
The soldiers, flushed with excitement and burning with energy, gathered around their beloved lord and happily made their way back toward the manor.
Admiration from the people was certainly inspiring, but in the end, nothing steadied the heart quite like something tangible.
And runes were perfect for that.