How To Live As A Genius Knight In A Fantasy World 5454.
“Duke Karl!”
As Duke Karl’s face contorted in anger, cheers echoed among the kingdom’s army.
The sight of the Duke descending from the sky with his aura was impressive in itself, and no one doubted the Duke’s strength.
Even though the enemy in front of them was overwhelmingly strong, the nobles believed that as aristocrats, they could prevail.
However, as they witnessed the knight’s arms, which had been dangling due to a broken sword, swiftly recovering in the blink of an eye, even the soldiers of the kingdom couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
“This is a disaster.”
The duke, too, gazed at the eerie sight and sensed that things had taken a turn for the worse.
After being attacked by the duke, an opponent who seemed to have been hiding their true identity, a vast amount of dark magic had emanated from the opponent’s entire body.
A knight equipped not only with skillful swordsmanship but also with a substantial amount of dark magic.
Naturally, the duke recalled the identity of the individual buried deep in his memories.
During the previous Great War, the dark sorcerers had created weapons using exceptional knights.
“Deathknight…”
The cursed name of a creature deserving of damnation sprung from the duke’s lips.
The death knight, now fully recovered with all its broken arms, ominously advanced towards the duke, emitting a sinister aura.
As swords clashed and a loud noise reverberated within the castle walls, the death knight’s arm once again broke under the duke’s powerful counterattack.
Being a creature created based on a knight’s body, the creature possessed durability beyond mere physical strength.
Furthermore, the amplified physical abilities derived from the vast dark magic allowed the creature to perform at levels impossible for a natural body.
Powered by overwhelming dark magic, the monster forced its stats to rise beyond their original limits.
That was the true identity of the death knight.
However, even with such boosted stats, it was not a guarantee that it could face a master.
Despite possessing fragments of swordsmanship learned in its past life, the monster was no match for a master who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
Yet, the advantage the death knight had was not limited to its physical prowess alone.
As the duke struggled to recover from the shock, just as he swung his sword to deliver the finishing blow, the death knight’s foreleg swiftly struck where the duke had been standing.
Although the duke hastily dodged the attack, the opponent’s arms had fully regained their original form in the meantime.
In a crisis he hadn’t experienced in decades, veins bulged on the duke’s forearm as he gripped his sword.
Believing in his own physical prowess, the death knight relentlessly attacked with an increasingly aggressive posture.
The amount of dark magic emanating from the opponent’s body, a result of how many lives had been sacrificed, was so dense that it didn’t quite match with ordinary swordsmanship.
Despite suffering unilateral losses each time they clashed, the abundant dark magic incessantly healed the opponent’s wounds.
The rampaging of the death knight was also a problem.
Its massive body relentlessly targeted the duke, causing havoc as its attacks razed numerous monsters and soldiers in its path.
As if becoming an embodiment of destruction, the death-spreading movements of the rampaging death knight shattered nearby structures into debris.
“We can’t afford to prolong this any longer.”
Count Frederick, observing their battle, murmured.
The soldiers had long reached their limits, and the knights noticeably showed a decline in strength.
Most critically, no one knew how long the effects of the sacred magic, still active beneath their feet, would last.
The priests who had used self-sacrificial spells perished as soon as the spells were cast, and even those who had shared in using sacred magic had long since depleted their sacred powers.
If the effects of the sacred magic faded, and the dark magic fueled by the darkness of night began to surge, it wouldn’t be surprising if all forces within the castle were annihilated.
Count Frederick was well aware of his own physical condition.
With multiple minor injuries and having exhausted both stamina and mana in a day-long battle, he was completely drained.
However, he was a high-ranking knight.
Possessing exceptional prowess among knights, he was recognized as one of the few formidable individuals in the entire kingdom.
He knew well that unless he reached a level similar to his own, it was impossible to get involved in their fight.
The Viscount, who glanced at the sword he was holding, leaped down the stairs.
As chaos unfolded inside the castle.
Outside the castle, monsters were chasing after the elves.
The number of monsters that had filled the plains was now revealing its end.
Monsters, baring their teeth and rushing towards the elusive elves, lost their lives one by one and crashed to the ground.
Every time the corpse dragon moved, a roar echoed around the castle, and Tigron’s punitive force, with blood and fluids mixing, moved heavily across the ground.
Before they knew it, as they reached near the Viscount’s castle, the blood-stained walls shone in their eyes.
“Good heavens…”
Someone who saw the countless bodies piled below the castle, the blood-stained walls, and the horde of monsters still gathered near the breached wall, sighed.
But even in the horrific sight, their steps did not falter.
Breaking away from the crowd and cutting off the breath of the wandering monsters, the punitive force relentlessly moved towards the castle.
Despite the Viscount’s persistent defense and the significantly reduced monsters attacking the punitive force with guerrilla tactics, those who had lost numerical superiority did not feel as despairing as before.
As they moved towards the Viscount’s castle, Rohan, who had regained considerable strength, easily cut down the creatures.
“It seems like my body has indeed improved.”
Judging by the noticeably accelerated recovery rate, the effect of the new skill was truly remarkable.
With the reduced number of monsters, the path leading into the castle was surprisingly peaceful.
However, everyone knew that there were monsters inside, so the tension flowing among the punitive force escalated rapidly as time passed.
As they cut down the occasional monsters popping up and entered the destroyed walls, the members of the punitive force suddenly stopped in their tracks.
Before them, a sight straight out of myth unfolded.
Frederick Viscount’s blazing aura clashed with the Death Knight’s blackened sword, and Karl, the Duke, moved to avoid the dragon’s tail, disappearing.
As Karl dodged, the tail hit the castle stairs, shattering the stone fragments that made up the stairs in all directions.
In the unbelievable battle, the members of the punitive force, unable even to curse, stood frozen in place.
While his comrades beside him paused, Rohan was pondering something different.
“Can I… join that fight?”
Unlike ordinary knights who couldn’t properly catch the Duke’s movements, Rohan’s perceptiveness, which had grown unrecognizably, struggled to keep up with their combat.
But whether his body could withstand the ruthless battlefield was uncertain.
With each passing moment, exchanges of blows with deadly force were happening several times a second.
While Rohan hesitated, Tigron, the Viscount, drew his sword first and rushed into the battlefield.
The sword that was falling towards Frederick Viscount was thrown off course by Tigron Viscount’s sudden attack, and taking advantage of this opening, Frederick Viscount’s sword severed one of the knight’s arms.
Seemingly shaken by the significant blow, the body of the Death Knight with the severed arm staggered.
Following Tigron Viscount’s strike, the sacred magic of the priests who moved with the punitive force fell around the corpse dragon, and amidst the giant’s convulsions, Karl Duke’s sword struck the dragon’s skull.
Maintaining the upper hand they held, the attacks of the three storming like a tempest.
The body of the corpse dragon shattered in various places, black magic flowing out, and the Death Knight, now missing both arms, stepped back continuously.
Just as Tigron Viscount was about to deliver the final blow to the Death Knight.
Suddenly, a lightning-fast sword pierced his body.
While the Death Knight and the corpse dragon were raging inside the castle, a bloody battle was unfolding in the sky above the castle.
“Ha…”
The elder elf, Anaskin, sighed heavily at the sight of the lich wielding powerful magic like a child’s play.
Having lived for centuries with the forest as their domain.
I thought I had overcome many crises in my own way, but facing such a formidable enemy was truly rare.
Already, witnessing dozens of his kin losing their lives to wicked magic and plummeting was a heart-wrenching experience for him.
“…Wasn’t it accepting the request?”
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He even had such thoughts for a moment.
However, the elder had experienced the rampages of dark sorcerers many times over the years.
Knowing well that eliminating these individuals now, despite the significant sacrifices, was the best course of action when considering the atrocities the dark sorcerers had committed to bring down the kingdom.
Moreover, by accepting the request of King Arden, it was a matter of upholding an ancient alliance with the kingdom, leaving no room for choice from the start.
Anaskin’s innate attribute was fire.
Now, a spirit larger than Anaskin himself, following his will, unleashed a massive fireball.
The flames were powerful enough to reduce even trees that had lived for hundreds of years to ashes in a single blow, but once touched by the dark magic wielded by the lich, they inevitably vanished.
The dark magic spread by the lich in the sky restricted the movements of the elves like mist, while the swirling vortex of magic relentlessly tore the griffins’ wings apart, sending them crashing to the ground.
An elf caught in a sudden appearance of a black hand exploding away was a sight that enraged Anaskin.
Using all his might in magic would undoubtedly strain his old body, but he could not stand idly by while his kin perished.
“Puel.”
Anaskin, having made his decision, called out the spirit’s name, and the spirit, understanding his intentions, nodded once.
The spirit that had been circling Anaskin’s body merged with him as one, their energies intertwining explosively, unleashing tremendous power.
Blue flames blazed fiercely above his hands, and as Anaskin reached out, a pillar of flames revealed his majestic form in the sky.
The flames that swiftly engulfed the black mist spread by the lich covered his skeletal remains, and the elves who had perched on the griffins gazed with expectant eyes at where the enemy had stood.
The flames that had been raging suddenly lost momentum and dispersed into the air, revealing the lich, who had hidden his body behind a black curtain, once again.
“Huh…”
Sighs mixed with regret erupted from various places as Anaskin realized that his full-powered attack had failed miserably.
Anticipating the imminent danger facing Anaskin, tension gripped the faces of the elves, but Harken, who had removed the barrier, directed his gaze towards the viscount’s castle.
Connected through dark magic, he had sensed the imminent danger faced by the wyrms and death knights.
Furthermore, the near annihilation of the monsters had made him uncomfortable.
“He’s a persistent one.”
Seeing the viscount’s attack slowly eroding the wyrms, Harken muttered to himself.
Having used the physical form of a dragon, he should have been born as a much more powerful monster according to Harken’s original plan.
But due to the interference by the intruder at the last moment of the ritual, despite pouring in an enormous amount of magic, he ended up with a half-baked result.
That alone was infuriating, and yet the old man seemed tireless as he followed all the way here to cause trouble.
“I intended to kill those pesky elf bastards first.”
If he didn’t intervene now, he would lose both minions in vain.
But descending to the ground immediately would lead the elves to follow Harken.
Harken, grasping the dark magic surrounding him, pushed the remnants of the demon occupying his heart.
The remnants, writhing as if devouring the dark magic, soon spat out dozens of black bead-like objects, and the beads that had been circling Harken absorbed the energy he emitted, rapidly growing in size.
The beads, having completed their growth under Harken’s protection, spread wings made of membranes and flew up, revealing their power towards the elves casting spells.
Eyes hidden within the giant eyelids appeared, and black beams shot out from the spikes surrounding the eyes.
As the elves, who had been bombarding Harken, were suddenly taken aback by the unexpected appearance of the monsters, Harken swiftly descended to the ground.
The intense battle was on the verge of a major turning point due to the sudden entry of Viscount Tigrun. S~eaʀᴄh the novёlF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
Witnessing the crisis of Death Knight, Harken swiftly moved his skeletal fingers through the air.
Empowered by Harken’s will, the dark magic surged and struck Viscount Tigrun like a lightning bolt.
Caught off guard by the unexpected attack, Viscount Tigrun momentarily staggered but quickly regained composure.
However, disrupting Tigrun’s movement was not without significance.
As two viscounts, who had spotted Harken, raised their guard, a new arm was sprouting from Death Knight’s severed limb.
“…Truly a monster.”
Momentarily distracted by the lich, Viscount Frederick noticed the rapidly growing new arm and muttered.
The success of the dark sorcerers in continuing the legacy despite numerous persecutions was attributed to the dreadful power emanating from such wicked magic.
By the time Death Knight’s regeneration was complete, Harken finally set foot on the ground.
Amidst the darkness akin to pitch, the arrival of the lich, exuding an aura that could make flesh crawl just by its proximity, halted movements without exception.
Merely standing there caused the sacred energy embedded in the earth beneath to recede and wither away.
In the stillness, Harken spoke.
Now devoid of even vocal cords, Harken’s will was conveyed solely through the dark magic surrounding him.
“Deceivers of the kingdom. The time of destruction has come. You shall all perish here. Upon your corpses, I shall build my kingdom.”
Harken, who had risen for the prosperity of dark sorcerers, was no more.
What remained was the residue of a demon’s influence he had embraced, twisting his soul entirely.
All that lingered of his humanity was a deep-seated hatred accumulated over the years, driven solely by an insatiable thirst for power.
As the monstrous declaration, casting off not only the physical but also the human spirit, echoed, the eruptive surge of dark magic swept through the castle.
The already faint divine power was completely washed away, and the bodies of demons that had comprised the mountain rose following the guidance of dark magic.
The scattered pieces of flesh gathered to form the shape of giants, and the blood and shattered bone fragments that once stained the earth coalesced into golems.
In that infernal spectacle, a stark despair shrouded the faces of the people.
As the disoriented soldiers lost strength and even the knights abandoned hope.
A lone melody resonated across the battlefield.
Those who, having been promised solace by the divine, could be braver than anyone in the face of evil.
The retainers of Arnisian, the surviving priests, gathered to sing praises to the divine.
Exhausted shells, they were renewed with sacred energy, and above them, holy rings began to materialize.
Igniting their life force, they chanted spells invoking divine miracles.
At this ominous sign, the revived demons surged towards the priests.
“Stop them! We must stop them at all costs!”
Sensing the final opportunity, Viscount Frederick shouted, and the survivors rallied their last strength to fend off the demons.
Elves, who had descended after dealing with beholders, unleashed magic at the lich once more, while dukes and viscounts defended against the attacks of corpse dragons and Death Knight.
The remaining knights fought valiantly, meeting death one by one, and even the holy knights, who had not relinquished their swords despite losing limbs, succumbed to the onslaught of demons.
Comrades, who fought back to back, fell one by one, and Rohan felt his own body nearing its limits.
The accumulated fatigue, numerous injuries, and the extreme depletion of stamina from prolonged combat made it impossible to endure, even with a body reinforced with skills.
‘Not yet, not yet.’
Yet his body still moved, and his sword could still cleave through the flesh of demons.
Suppressing the urge to invoke the breath of solace immediately, he swung his sword with faltering movements.
In the midst of countless deaths, time seemed to stretch on endlessly.
Priests, pouring all their life force, fell one by one, and finally, when dozens of priests had sacrificed themselves to the divine.
A beam of light descended from the distant heavens.
Just an ordinary beam of light, untouched by physical or divine forces.
However, at that moment, Harken felt the gaze of a vastly immense being.
A gaze filled with unmistakable hostility, as if looking at something filthy.
Simultaneously, overwhelming amounts of divine power surged through the beam of light that had previously felt devoid of any strength.
The divine power scattered across the place where the priests had been, spreading across the ground like waves.
The wounds of those present, pushed to the extreme, began to heal, and their depleted stamina slowly replenished.
The divine power flowing through their bodies finally reached even the wicked beings.
The demons, after a few hesitant movements, came to a halt, crashing back to the ground, while the giant corpse shattered into thousands of pieces, scattered on the floor.
As the waves of divine power subsided and Harken’s tent was lifted,
The army he had raised had completely lost its original might, shrinking to less than half its former size.
In the face of this devastating outcome, the relentless black aura emanated from Harken, reaching towards the sky.
“You are truly cursed.”
The lich, spitting out a voice mixed with hatred towards the God of Light, Arnesian, once again unleashed dark magic.
Despite withstanding the waves of divine power, he still retained a significant amount of dark magic.
However, the state of the opponents standing before Harken was different from just a moment ago.
The overflowing divine power lifted their weary bodies once again, and the swords of the revived knights shimmered with a blue light.
Though they realized they were blessed by the gods, the lich did not retreat in the slightest.
Having lost the demons, he himself remained unscathed, with a considerable amount of gems crafted from the lives of many people still in his possession.
“They will all die anyway.”
The lich’s dark magic surged back into the castle, as the surviving demons hurled their bodies towards the knights.
In response, the holy knights emitted radiant divine power, wielding their swords fiercely against the oncoming demons.
In the renewed battlefield, Rohan moved towards where he was most needed.