Sellen showed them exactly why a master sorcerer was the most infuriating foe on the battlefield. Comet Azur descended like judgment from the heavens. Soldiers screamed below. Priests lunged forward in desperation. None of it mattered. The spell detonated in their midst, hurling blood-stained snow into the air.
"Red and white—such a lovely combination."
Sellen's laughter rang out from the rooftops, the very picture of a storybook witch. She winked out of existence an instant before a Golem's massive arrow could find her. The two-story building beneath her exploded into splinters.
Ten years mastering Starlight movement made her untouchable. Throne himself couldn't match her speed. She flickered across the battlefield—here, then gone—tossing aside an empty crimson tears flask as she raised her hands again.
The Leyndell troops outside the walls were still scrambling when the sky darkened. An azure nebula unfurled above them. Shields went up. Men stumbled backward.
"Legendary Sorcery: Meteorite of Astel."
Her finger curled. A hundred-meter radius vanished under a hail of glintstone shards. She didn't wait to watch—just teleported again before the first crystal struck earth.
Black shadows dropped from the sky. Two gargoyles landed in the ruins, spear-tips glinting. They barely had time to spread their wings.
A spear punched through a stone forehead. Cracks spiderwebbed across the gargoyle's body.
"Cover Miss Sellen!"
Finlay's weapon came down like an executioner's axe, splitting the construct's skull wide open.
She'd known Sellen was strong. Not this strong. In a duel? Hard to say. But for holding a battlefield? Perfect. Blinding speed. Relentless spells. Bottomless mana reserves. And the cunning to always strike where it hurt most—cluster after cluster of packed soldiers.
Ordina perched on its peninsula, cliffs guarding three sides. No walls. No moat. Just a narrow six-hundred-meter choke point where Leyndell's forces bunched up like target dummies.
"That damn witch!"
Miles snarled from the rear. Another meteor shower began its descent. His gauntlets creaked from clenched fists.
Worse than the ancient Astrologers. Worse because she fought smart—primeval glintstone magic augmented by crimson tears. How many men would it take to bleed her dry?
"Tell those imbeciles we're not here to admire the scenery! Reform attack lines—feint on the flanks first. Where are the gods-damned priests? Did they forget how magic defense works?"
Miles' roar carried across the snowfield. Standing in the open against a teleporting sorcerer was suicide.
"Understood!"
A knight sprinted to relay orders.
War horns bellowed. Chants rose. Chaos gave way to discipline as protective wards flared to life. The next meteor strike hit shields instead of flesh—damage reduced tenfold. That's more like it. Forget how to wage war? Better off dead.
Miles nodded in satisfaction and then said to the person beside him, "Moras, push from the left flank. Keep eyes on her—kill if you can, pin her down if not."
"Yes."
The Tree Sentinel spurred his mount forward.
"Caerlus, with me. We spearhead into town and slaughter every last Cleanrot Knight!"
The leather reins bit into Miles' palms as the priest beside him layered a dozen incantations across his body. Golden light bled through his armor joints, turning him into a walking beacon. Halberd points dipped in unison—a single killing machine advancing as one. After watching a hundred men evaporate under Sellen's magic, Leyndell's troops fought with the fury of wasps from a kicked nest. The battlefield's pulse quickened to murderous tempo.
Arrow shafts darkened the sky like a plague swarm. Golden incantations from both sides' clerics flashed and died midair. Gargoyles plunged from the clouds. Stone golems crushed paving blocks underfoot. Albinauric archers picked off targets from the towers until golem-fired tree trunks smashed their perches to kindling.
They retreated across rooftops, tiles shattering underfoot as artillery punched through slate. The first wave of Leyndell's flank attack clawed up the walls—greathelm knights shrugging off arrows to clear houses one bloodstained room at a time. A diversion.
The alleyways choked their numbers. The real battle still raged at Ordina's gates. Haligtree's defenders locked shields on the stone steps, spearheads gleaming between the gaps. Incantation light pulsed through their veins as they braced for impact—human boulders in a flood.
Boom.
A siege bolt punched through the shield wall, impaling twelve men like kabobs. The ranks closed before the bodies hit the ground. Behind visors, eyes dilated at the tide advancing through arrow storms, through Sellen's spells, through the Oracle Envoys' hymns. Leyndell's own shield wall glowed with mirroring blessings. This was the meat grinder Throne despised.
Layer by layer, their defenses peeled away. Even Comet Azur would sputter against this attrition. Thud. Thud. Thud-thud-thud. The rhythm of plate boots became a drumroll. At two hundred paces, the formation split like the Red Sea.
Miles erupted from the breach—two tons of steel and warhorse momentum. A second Tree Sentinel followed. Then a hundred Leyndell knights in perfect unison. The charge shook earth and eardrums alike. Three-meter spears might as well have been straws before that avalanche of metal.
From her clock tower perch, Sellen's laughter tinkled like broken glass.
"Oh-ho? All lining up for target practice?"
Magic sigils slithered beneath her sleeves, glowing faint as corpse-lights. She raised her arms—
Crack!
A golden halberd sheared through brickwork. The tower bell crashed down beside her. She whirled to see a Tree Sentinel vaulting his steed onto the parapet. Spears snapped against his armor as he bulldozed through defenders, coming straight for her.
"So they marked me after all."
Sellen wasn't surprised; the enemy wasn't foolish, so how could they let her keep raining hell unchecked? But her pulse spiked with the thunder below. The Draconic Tree Sentinel led that golden tsunami—and without her magic to stem the tide, they'd carve through the defense like a hot knife through lard.
Even though she felt nothing toward slaughter, the witch sighed: "Their momentum is unstoppable!"
The giant golden horse leaped up. Utilizing its momentum, its thick horse armor snapped the spears by force. It breathed out a gout of flame in mid-air, turning those blocking its path into charred remains, and its hooves subsequently trampled the corpses into pulp.
The first row, the second row, the third row... The thick phalanx couldn't stop them at all. The giant halberd Miles swung back and forth widened the breach, and the allied forces behind him charged up the steps, tearing apart the crumbling phalanx.
Whether it was Cleanrot Knights or Haligtree soldiers, blood flowing from their twisted armor slid down the steps, seemingly forming a small river, with broken spears floating 'on the river'. In a moment, Miles had pierced through the phalanx, stepped onto the stone stairs, and arrived at the wide main street of Ordina.
Next, he would turn around and charge again with the knights who had also pierced through, until the phalanx was torn to shreds. But he didn't have that chance. Riding a warhorse whose momentum was exhausted, he raised his head high and saw, at the end of the not-so-wide road of Ordina, over a hundred armored cavalry waiting in formation.
"Oh? So you were preparing for a counter-charge? I thought you had run away."
Miles revealed a gratified smile, looking at the female knight serving as the tip of the spearhead, and raised his giant halberd.
"Come, let me see what the iron hooves of the Northerners look like!"
He didn't need to remind her; Finlay had already led her army in a charge.
She had used the lives of her soldiers as a delay, precisely to launch the final strike when the opponent's horse momentum was exhausted.
"Knights, charge with me!"
There was no wasted talk; the sound of hooves made the town tremble. The knights' scarlet cloaks were like blooming flowers of blood, charging forward without hesitation.
On both sides were tall buildings, leaving absolutely no room for maneuvering; this was a head-on collision in the true sense.
"No wonder that stupid apprentice likes fighting so much; it really does get one's blood boiling."
Sellen on the rooftop was clearly in the best viewing position.
She watched the indomitable Cleanrot Knights charge, watched the Leyndell soldiers constantly flooding up the steps only to be forced to receive the charge in place due to exhausted momentum, and also watched the invincible Draconic Tree Sentinel meet them alone.
Then—the two iron currents slammed into each other, and screams, the neighing of warhorses, and the sound of snapping spears rang out as one. A galloping warhorse was a huge buff in itself. Thinking back to outside Stormveil, even when Throne was still a noob, he could cause damage to Godrick. When these two torrents collided, it was clear that the Cleanrot Knights had the upper hand.
Countless people were unhorsed, then trampled into meat patties by iron hooves. The caught-off-guard Leyndell Knights were skewered, trampled, and even if they wanted to retreat, the pierced phalanx was madly squeezing toward the center, cutting off their retreat and blocking the incoming infantry.
"Is this the legendary tactic? I must study it when I have time, but human cunning can never resist absolute power!"
Sellen's eyes widened, seeing that amidst the screams, only the golden giant at the very front remained unmoved. His greatshield blocked the charge of at least five lances, and his giant halberd severed a dozen Cleanrot Knights who swept past him at the waist.
Finlay watched her Glaive bend and shatter, then used the momentum to step onto the horse's head, drew her rapier, pressed her hand against the greatshield, and flipped over just like that, stabbing straight at Miles's throat. Clang! The Tree Sentinel straightened his waist, the rapier hitting his breastplate and causing a slight dent.
He dropped the greatshield, gripped the halberd with both hands, and spun it above his head. This was the Death Whirlwind. Rapiers and spears attacking from all directions, along with their owners, were sent flying in a spray of blood and flesh.
He watched Finlay, who had been forced back, kick off a wall, catch a scythe-spear thrown from the side, and her entire body radiated a golden brilliance, causing even the air to hum. Then, like a sword, she shot straight at his chest.
"Good spear technique, but it's useless!"
He clamped his legs, and the Draconic horse beneath him jumped lightly as if it had intelligence.
The spinning Death Whirlwind paused, and he gripped the halberd with both hands and slashed down fiercely. Dragon-Slaying! In an instant, man and horse became one, power gathering at a single point. The giant halberd slammed into the tip of the scythe-spear, releasing a destructive force. Clang!!!
The windows of half the town shattered instantly, and the shockwave sent the surrounding Cleanrot Knights flying backward. Finlay's eyes widened, she spat out a large mouthful of blood from inside her helmet, and she went flying.
Whoosh—
She gritted her teeth to maintain balance, shattering the bluestone slabs on the ground, and actually carved out two trenches tens of meters long, until finally, she planted her spear into the ground and came to a stop. Her chest felt stifled, and her mouth was full of the taste of rust, but the thunderous sound of hooves gave her no chance to catch her breath.
Miles came head-on, his giant halberd swinging back and forth, chopping up and swatting away the Cleanrot Knights blocking his path; not a single person could stop him for even a moment, until a few particles shimmered, and Sellen suddenly appeared in front, her palms pointed at the raging knight. Haima Cannon!
A cyan projectile roared down the long street, slamming solidly into the giant halberd Miles had brought down, blasting him and his horse back several meters. Finlay felt no joy, spitting out a bloody gob of saliva: "You leave quickly. I underestimated this guy; I'm afraid I can't win."
Miles had cut the long street into two sections, and that indomitable momentum was even more heartening, causing the crumbling Leyndell Knights to surge with fighting spirit once again. They were caught in the middle between the Cleanrot Knights and the phalanx, but the phalanx was also being flanked by them and the infantry army, not to mention the flanks were already struggling to hold on.
"Where are you running to? The other big guy has already cut off our retreat."
Sellen's voice was very calm. Finlay turned her head and saw a Tree Sentinel standing on the other side of the long street, which was the only way to the teleporter.
"I'll take you out, and then I'll cover the retreat."
"No need. I ran out specifically to wait for someone."
Finlay was stunned, her face involuntarily showing wild joy, but before she could speak, Sellen raised her hand to interrupt her.
"Don't get it wrong. I'm not waiting for your Highness; even if she woke up, she wouldn't be able to come over."
"Then who else could you be waiting for..."
Finlay opened her mouth wide, not knowing what kind of madness this crazy woman was up to now.
Just then, the thick fog in front was cut open by a giant halberd, and Miles, his armor slightly damaged, stood on his horse, looking coldly in this direction.
"A moving comradeship, but unfortunately, I've seen it too many times."
As his voice fell, a third Tree Sentinel landed behind him, blocking the rushing Cleanrot Knights for him.
"Rest assured, even as women, this scene of yours will be remembered, becoming an honor worth cherishing in your long lives..."
Miles set his stance and was about to charge, but his horse's hooves paused; some kind of destructive force made him turn his head instinctively.
Twelve pillars of smoke pierced the distant sky. He didn't recall stationing troops in that direction, but the raw power was undeniable. The devastation wrought by legendary sorcery seized everyone's attention. Finlay craned her neck, her voice trailing off.
"This is…"
"My foolish apprentice has finally decided to show up."
Sellen's gaze lifted. Her tone held no emotion, only a blend of curiosity and astonishment. She licked her lips, a flicker of hunger in her eyes.
"Ten years since I last saw him, and he's grown this powerful. I'd love to pin him down and dissect him."
On the hilltop, Throne surveyed the battlefield. The burning town and the advancing Leyndell Army sprawled before him, locked in a white-hot clash. The narrow entrance was crammed, leaving no room for the Golems to join the fray. Shadows darted across the sky, swooping down to strike Albinauric archers. The Golden Army led the charge, with Crucible Knights bringing up the rear. The desperation of the scene set his blood ablaze.
Throne glanced down at himself. The wounds beneath his battered armor were healing rapidly, his mangled left hand fully regrown. Thanks to you, Rykard. Don't you revel in blaspheming against the golden order? With nearly ten thousand troops here, blaspheme to your heart's content. He took his first step firmly, Ranni's voice echoing in his ear.
"Wait, you're just planning to charge in like that??"
From her vantage point, the distance revealed a dense sea of troops. Though their backs were turned to the hillside, their elite numbers could drown a demigod in sheer force. Throne didn't hesitate. He ran faster, his pace unrelenting.
"What else would I do?"
"You…"
Ranni's protest fell short. She closed her mouth, resigned. One man against thousands—how insignificant. Without the commotion of the legendary sorcery, most wouldn't have noticed him at all. When the troops turned, their faces betrayed confusion and suspicion. No ambush, no reinforcements—just one man.
"Turn around, engage!"
"Why did this idiot come alone?"
"Something's wrong—why is he so fast?"
Their initial contempt evaporated. What charged toward them wasn't a man but a humanoid dragon. His legs churned at blinding speed, carving a massive wave of snow behind him. Kilometers vanished in the blink of an eye.
"Golems, turn around, raise shields! Archers, intercepting fire!"
The knight's roar carried doubt. Would these dozen rows of shield walls hold against such a charge? Before the wave of snow could reach them, a vast moonlight rose in its place.