Chapter 260

Chapter 260

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[Translator – Night]

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Neigh-!

Labin leaped off the sorrowfully crying horse and rolled on the ground.

Boom-!

At the same time, he swung his greatsword like a windmill, smashing the approaching undead.

The old professor’s thick eyebrows twitched.

‘Is this the limit of a cavalry charge?’

No matter how well-trained the warhorse, it was impossible to completely break through dozens of layers of undead.

Labin’s bold charge had to stop somewhere in the middle of the undead horde... and in a situation like this, stopping the charge meant serious danger.

Boom-!

Sure enough, a darkly hued demon sword struck the spot where Labin had just been.

The massively large weapon not only severed the horse’s body but also created a huge crater in the ground.

The strong vibration transmitted through the soles of his feet.

Steadying himself, Labin looked at the owner of the demon sword.

‘...Betias, the demon sword of the Abyss.’

Once a hero who supported humanity’s front lines, he was now an unfortunate man, enslaved by Yol’s sword to serve as his soldier.

And it wasn’t just him.

Each of the undead surrounding him wasn’t just an ordinary skeleton, but once notable human heroes.

A truly unfavorable situation.

However, the old professor’s expression didn’t change.

His wrinkled eyes turned towards the children retreating into the distance.

‘...I must draw their attention and hold them off.’

Seeing the children trapped among the undead, floundering in chaos, Labin realized his duty.

After all, he was a professor teaching the subject ‘Understanding the Battlefield.’

He grasped the entire situation at a glance and understood what role he needed to play to achieve the best outcome.

Thus, he made a decision.

‘About 20 minutes, I suppose.’

Hummm-

Labin observed the heat filling his body.

An immense power coursed through him, making it difficult to maintain his composure.

It felt like he had returned to his younger days.

No, it was even greater power and vitality coursing through him.

It was astonishing.

His senses had expanded severalfold, capturing every movement of the undead gathering around him.

‘...To use this technique here.’

He had never used this technique before, so he was worried, but fortunately, it seemed to work well.

Vital Flame.

It was a technique Labin had created long ago.

With the intervention of a strange power, Labin’s magic veered off its usual path and surged down a new one.

Irreversible injuries were accumulating in his body, but for now, he could exert far more power than usual.

Until his body could no longer hold up.

...Although Labin didn’t know, it coincidentally matched exactly the final technique devised by his disciple, Ted Redymer.

Labin swung his greatsword.

Boom-!

The demon sword flying at him was shattered and deflected into the air.

Before Betias could even react, Labin’s greatsword came back around and smashed the undead’s skull.

The undead scattered into bone powder.

Labin smiled with satisfaction.

It was a technique adapted from his disciple’s swordsmanship, and it seemed to work quite well.

“Come on.”

Undead loathed the life force of the living more than anything else.

And currently.

Labin’s ‘life’ was burning brighter than anyone else’s.

Bright enough to draw all the undead that were heading towards the children.

Crackle-!

The hero-like silver sword aura tore through the undead.

The old professor roared as he shattered the charging undead.

Roarrrr-

The undead ceaselessly, relentlessly swarmed.

No sooner had he dispatched one group than another arrived.

Just when he thought he had cleared them all, a lingering skull would chatter and bite at his ankle.

Labin was soon covered in wounds.

But he didn’t stop swinging his sword for a moment.

As he finished off the second wave and heard the footsteps of the third wave approaching, Labin finally fell to his knees.

Roarrrr-

A scream-like sound echoed from afar.

It was a moment of utmost crisis, yet an inexplicable smile spread across his wrinkled face.

The old professor reached his hand out into the air.

‘Dahlia....’

Despite the passage of time, the gift of forgetfulness did not seem to apply to him.

Even now, long after losing his daughter, her face and smile were vividly clear.

Once, he resented that clarity, but now he was grateful for it.

‘Dahlia.’

Labin reminisced about his daughter to his heart’s content.

Next, he thought of his wife who left too soon, his most beloved disciple, and the friend who had unexpectedly reappeared in his later years.

The deepened smile painted Labin’s face.

‘A fitting conclusion to my life.’

...Lastly, on one side of his vision.

He saw the children breaking through the encirclement of the control tower and entering its interior.

Their faces, covered in dirt, were resolute and shining brightly, just like someone he remembered from over a decade ago.

The old professor chuckled heartily and stood up.

Then, he raised his head.

However, instead of panicking, Felson immediately regained his composure.

To dare invoke those memories.

A cold fury guided him.

With his other hand, he caught his spinning longsword in midair and, pouring all his weight and mana into it, slashed at Yol.

For an attack to remain steady even as ‘death’ burrowed into his body.

Even a skeletal knight who had fought on the battlefield for a very long time couldn’t have expected this.

Crackling-!

For the first time, a hit landed effectively on Yol.

Felson’s sword cleaved through the black aura that made up Yol’s armor, striking his ribcage.

Hissss-

Thick darkness quickly gathered, attempting to repel Felson’s sword aura, but—

“Felson, you bastard!”

Iira’s white sword came in from a blind spot, forcing its way through.

Bang-bang-bang-!

White flames burst from the blade like fireworks, burning away the encroaching darkness.

Once again, Yol’s side was exposed.

That opening—

“Stand back!”

Was exploited by the former Sword Saint.

Hummmm-

Silver sword aura, like the Milky Way, emerged from Zion’s sword.

She had reached a new level after her rematch with the Hero.

Yol staggered backward, unable to withstand Zion’s direct hit.

From his half-shattered ribcage, mist-like gas continually leaked out.

[......]

A moment of brief respite arrived.

“...Hup.”

Without even screaming, Felson severed the arm where death had begun to encroach.

In those few seconds, the necrosis had spread up to his elbow, requiring him to cut off more than half of his right arm.

Yussi patted Felson’s shoulder reassuringly.

“...The Hero will give you a new one.”

Felson, sweating profusely, laughed.

“Well, that’s comforting.”

“For now, use this.”

Whirrr-

The Alchemy Glove glowed and the blood and flesh of Felson that had fallen to the ground formed a prosthetic arm.

It wouldn’t perform at even a tenth of the original arm’s capacity, but it was better than nothing.

Felson swung his arm experimentally, then frowned.

“By the way....”

Taylor finished his sentence.

“Yeah, something’s strange, isn’t it?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Iira squinted at Yol.

And then she voiced the question that had occupied everyone’s mind.

“How are we still alive? None of us dead. Not one.”

The ten Dawn Knights, Yussi, and the former Sword Saint.

It was certainly a force capable of taking on Yol.

‘If we were in perfect condition.’

Unfortunately, all the squad members were currently heavily injured and receiving treatment.

They were fighting at maybe half their strength.

Logically, some of them should have been dead by now.

Yet, surprisingly, the fight was at a stalemate.

Felson’s eyebrows twitched.

“...He’s weak. Clearly.”

“Strange, isn’t it? He hasn’t shown himself on the battlefield for years, and now he’s weaker?”

“Is he holding back?”

“What’s he up to?”

Of course, Yol had no intention of answering their questions.

“He’s coming. Fight first.”

The squad members raised their swords simultaneously as they saw the spectral horse charging silently.

Felson, who had moved to the rear, glanced down at Rosenstark.

Zion, too, was glancing at the academy from the corner of her eye.

Their gazes crossed as if by agreement.

‘If Yol has weakened....’

Rather than just holding on, what if they attempted a full-on assault?

The undead below were animated by Yol’s power.

If Yol were defeated, they would all fall.

This was a highly tempting option for those whose children and grandchildren were amidst that chaos.

...After hesitating, Felson stepped forward again.

* * *

Thud—

Rosalyn closed the book.

Her hands trembled slightly as she returned the book to the shelf.

“So, they’re coming here after all.”

Usually calm and composed, today she seemed different.

In her white eyes, inherited from the creator Zero, hostility towards the demonic forces swirled.

“This heritage is not meant for you.”

Rosalyn’s gaze fixed on the image projecting the entrance of the Library of Memories.

More precisely, on the skeletal knight gradually emerging from the darkness.

“How dare you.”

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[Translator – Night]

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