Miles turned on the spot with his greatshield raised, slamming it behind him like a city wall. With a thunderous boom, the shield smashed Throne's body into pieces. A Frost Clone? Ice crystals scattered. Realizing he had been tricked, Miles took a step forward, only to feel a jolt in his back. The Dark Moon sword qi left a deep gouge on his backplate.
Ignoring the injury, he tightened his core and began to spin. Shield bash! Sweep! The heavy shield and the massive halberd, swinging like an axe, spun and tore through everything within ten meters. Throne had already lunged forward, but seeing this, he quickly crossed his twin swords. Clang, clang, clang... Retreating and advancing, sparks erupted in succession.
The Draconic Tree Sentinel used no fancy techniques, only unleashing overwhelming, destructive power!
"But without your horse, you're too clumsy and slow!"
Sensing the intensity of the shield and halberd storm, Throne simply jumped. Feeling a massive force travel through his wrists, he was sent flying back.
The whistling wind rushed past his ears, but he had already adjusted his posture in mid-air, landing his feet firmly on the thick walls of the Ordina church. Crack—
Large cracks immediately appeared on the meter-thick wall. Throne compressed his body, bringing his knees almost to his chest, winding himself up like a spring to the absolute limit, and then—
He rebounded with immense power! Boom!
An entire section of the wall shattered into dust. He launched himself like a javelin, raising his blade high against the greatshield. Secret Sword: Dragon Slash! The sword qi split the ground evenly in two, and a massive crescent slammed into the shield.
Even the Draconic Tree Sentinel staggered backward, but his thick right leg dug deep into the earth, allowing him to stand his ground and face the second wave of the assault. Clang!!
With a thunderous boom like muffled thunder, Throne's shoulder slammed into the shield's surface, denting the shield adorned with tree roots and causing the shoulder of his dark moon armor to shatter, revealing the thick glintstone crystals within. This collision was even heavier. Despite planting both legs into the ground, Miles still slid back several meters.
Through the slit in his helmet, he saw a pair of fanatical golden eyes. A madman! An absolute executioner! Watching Throne bounce back from the counter-force, Miles thrust his great halberd. However, he saw that his opponent didn't retreat or block; Throne simply tilted his body, allowing his breastplate to be sliced open and blood to spray from the gap. What is he trying to do?
After the confusion, the answer was instantly revealed. Leaving himself equally exposed, Throne suddenly threw his head back and roared to the sky. Roar!! The pressure of a dragon descended, causing even Miles to pause for a moment. Then, he saw that ornate straight sword touch his chest. Ting. His strength was spent.
A cluster of sparks bloomed on the breastplate, and then, a torrent of magic power erupted right against his chest. The long street was instantly illuminated. The majestic Tree Sentinel was sent flying, smashing through wall after wall. It wasn't until dozens of meters later that he finally stopped. He lowered his head and glanced at his still-smoking chest. A zero-distance magic burst.
Interesting! Ignoring the intense burning pain in his chest, he raised his shield again and cast a Golden Order Incantation. Brilliant magic already occupied his entire field of vision. Cannon of Haima! Comet Azur! Meteorite!... High-level magic hammered down like a storm, completely covering the area with thunderous explosions.
Throne did not pause, gritting his teeth as he continuously squeezed the primeval glintstone within his body. This was the hardest iron turtle he had ever seen, with incredible physical resistance and powerful magic resistance granted by Golden Order Incantations.
Miles was born for frontal assaults. Perhaps no army in The Lands Between could withstand his charge at the head of several Tree Sentinels. The air seethed. Another round of meteors crashed down, and the storm fell silent. Throne, his magic nearly spent, glanced to the side.
"Teacher!"
"Mm."
Sellen disengaged from a Tree Sentinel with a slight nod and vanished in the same instant as Throne. Clang! Moras's Golden Halberd swung down, but the witch he'd been chasing was gone. Precise magic control achieved a seamless transposition.
Throne straightened his back, spurring his warhorse to rear up. Sellen appeared where he'd stood moments before, her hands raised high. Throne's magic was depleted, but hers remained ample. A surge of magic soared into the sky, expanding into a massive azure nebula before crashing down with a deafening rumble.
Dust billowed. Miles, his armor melting slightly, froze. This magic was more potent than before.
"Oh no, it's that witch."
He didn't know where his subordinates were. He swept his greatshield aside and charged. The sorcery's commotion was overwhelming. Moras realized his fatal mistake.
He raised his Golden Halberd to throw, shielding his body. But as the halberd left his hand, his warhorse screamed in pain and threw him off.
"Worry about yourself first!"
A greatsword slashed across the ground, severing the hind legs of the towering warhorse.
Throne plunged his straight sword into the ground. A Flower of Flame erupted in all directions, igniting the Leyndell Knights trying to halt their advance. Sorcerers excel at shattering turtle shells. Miles knew things had turned dire. He was tough but slow, especially without his horse. On his third step, he hurled the great halberd. Shua—Clang!
Throne, who'd been at the center of the flames, rushed back. He landed before Sellen, deflecting the halberd with his greatsword. Sellen didn't glance his way. She'd abandoned all defense, focused solely on unleashing her violent magic. This time, the nebula didn't rain meteors—it crushed down in its entirety. Legendary Sorcery: Stardust Fall!
The witch's decade of research blazed in its most brilliant form. Miles halted his charge, holding his shield above his head with both hands. He knew the magic was powerful but believed he could withstand it. In ancient times, tanking legendary sorceries wasn't uncommon. But he forgot he wasn't facing just a powerful sorcerer.
As he raised his shield, Throne appeared before him. Miles's mind faltered.
"You want to die together?!"
"Wrong."
Throne's azure blade slashed skyward, and his straight sword, ablaze with flowing fire, stabbed into Miles's chest. Before Miles could decide whether to block or parry, blinding light filled his vision.
Rumble—
The stars detonated at Ordina's center. A destructive shockwave radiated outward, shattering sturdy houses like building blocks. A beam of azure light soared into the sky. The blast flung Tree Sentinels, Leyndell Knights, Cleanrot Knights, and soldiers alike. Sellen tumbled several times, gasping for breath, her gaze forward filled with fanaticism.
A large hole had been blasted into Ordina. The intense light faded, and a massive cloud of dust billowed up, only to be swept away by a sudden gust of wind. Whether on the battlefield or in the rear, all eyes turned. Amidst the broken walls and ruins, a shallow but massive crater marked the town center.
In the crater, Throne leaned forward, the Sword of Night and Flame still buried in the gaping wound he'd carved into Miles's chest. His silver armor glowed faintly, molten edges dripping like liquid moonlight.
"You dare…" The Draconic Tree Sentinel's head drooped, a guttural rattle escaping his throat.
Before the words could fully form, Throne yanked the blade free, stepped back half a pace, and spun. His greatsword flashed, slicing through Miles's neck in one clean motion. The massive head arced into the sky, tumbled to the ground, rolled twice, and came to rest beneath Throne's iron boot. The knight straightened, planted his foot firmly on the severed head, and roared at the retreating army. The sound shook the air, raw and primal.
"Next, who!?"
Throne stood atop the ruins, one boot crushing Miles's head. Behind him lay Ordina, battered and broken. Before him stretched the Leyndell Army, retreating like a receding tide. One man, twin blades, blocking the only path. His eyes swept across the chaos, catching only panicked backs and fleeing soldiers. Four legendary sorceries had struck them—Stars of Ruin among them. Their commander was dead, their advance shattered. If they'd stayed, it wouldn't have been calmness but sheer madness holding them together.
"As expected," Throne muttered, his gaze narrowing. "None of them are stupid pigs."
With Miles gone, the remaining Tree Sentinels retreated without hesitation, their knights forming a protective rear guard. Throne watched them go, his jaw tightening. Ordina was rubble now. The Leyndell Army had lost roughly two thousand soldiers—a significant blow, but not enough to cripple them. They could still maintain their blockade instead of fleeing all the way back to Leyndell.
"If they'd panicked," Throne muttered under his breath, "I could've turned the Consecrated Snowfield into a graveyard. Morgott and Godfrey would've been generals without an army." He sighed, regret flickering in his eyes.
As he turned, a hand settled on his shoulder. He glanced back to see Sellen's pale fingers resting there, delicate yet firm. She didn't move further, her expression unreadable.
"Teacher," Throne said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I've technically played the hero saving the beauty. Aren't you going to give me a hug?"
"You want one?"
Sellen blinked, her tone light but her gaze sharp.
"Uh," Throne chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "It's not the same if I have to ask for it."
His smile softened as he looked at her, his eyes lingering on her familiar features. Her long black hair framed her fair skin, and her azure eyes gleamed with the same sharp intellect he'd always admired. She wasn't majestic like Ranni or as blunt as Melina—she was something else entirely. A narcissus, delicate yet unyielding.
"Disciple," Sellen said, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Your gaze is quite aggressive."
She reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek. She rubbed gently, her touch almost tender.
"Mm, no change. You still fit your master's aesthetic."
Around them, the Haligtree Army crowded the rooftops, broken walls, and streets. They watched silently, their faces a mix of awe and exhaustion. Most were too injured to muster any mockery, but Throne, usually thick-skinned, took half a step back.
"Teacher," he muttered, his voice low. "So many people are watching."
"Tsk," Sellen clicked her tongue, her smile widening. "How did you learn a sense of shame after all these years?"
She leaned closer suddenly, her brow furrowing as she pressed her head against his dirt-streaked breastplate.
"You found my gift? Wait—" She pulled back slightly, her eyes narrowing. "The aura of primeval glintstone… how could you possibly condense primeval glintstone?"
"I certainly didn't have the skill to condense it," Throne admitted, his tone casual. "But I could steal Lusat's."
"You turned my theory into reality?" Sellen's voice was sharp, but her eyes sparkled with pride. "You really are a madman, risking your life just for power."
She reached out again, her fingers working at the leather straps of his dark moon armor.
"Teacher," Throne said, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"Helping you take it off," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "Let me see the exact layout."
"Here? Now?"
"I've told you countless times—as a Primeval Sorcerer, you mustn't concern yourself with the opinions of others."
"But I have a sense of shame!"
Throne hadn't anticipated his blood pressure spiking during their first reunion. A sharp cough interrupted them, earning an irritated glare from Sellen. Finlay stood nearby, her helmet removed, her face fierce and unyielding.
High cheekbones, pale skin, blonde hair pulled tight into a bun—her expression was ironclad, her eyes unwavering.
"Miss Sellen, I don't mean to intrude on your reunion, but we're still at war."
The knight wasn't one for niceties. Her armor, battered and splattered with blood, only deepened the gravity of her words. The Cleanrot Knights had been decimated in this battle—more than half their number lost. Finlay herself had mourned the death of a trusted subordinate. Sellen's expression softened briefly, and she stepped back. Throne exhaled in relief. His teacher's greatest flaw had always been her heedlessness, her disregard for others. Perhaps, after ten years, she'd grown a little.
"The Leyndell Army shows no signs of retreating. What's your plan?"
"We hold this position. If Miss Sellen hasn't deceived me, our King will awaken and avenge the fallen."
What? Malenia's waking up? Throne froze, his head snapping toward Sellen. This was unexpected in every possible way.
Sellen waved her hand dismissively under his stare.
"My research suggests it's possible she'll awaken. But her state, her condition? I can't guarantee anything."
Her words cast a shadow over the moment. Malenia wasn't Radahn. As the source of the Rot, her return could be a triumph—or a catastrophe. The first would be a victory for all. The second would doom them.
"Lady Malenia's situation is complex. The Haligtree Army's absence suggests they're wary too."
"Yes, I informed Loretta. They're guarding the Haligtree."
"Why didn't you mention something so critical?"
Finlay's frustration flared, though her resentment toward their absent allies eased slightly. Sellen raised an eyebrow, her tone casual.
"Because you didn't ask."
I—you—The knight looked ready to spit blood after the grueling battle. Throne quickly patted her shoulder.
"Lady Malenia's condition doesn't change our current predicament."
Regardless, the Leyndell Army has retreated.