The sharp edge of the blade only clipped the corner of the cloak. Nolan's eyes widened slightly as he watched the figure burst away at astonishing speed.
With reflexes like that, even a Haligtree Knight would have struggled to evade such a lethal strike.
He did not hesitate for a second. Stepping forward, he pressed the pursuit without pause.
Nolan's movements were as fluid and light as drifting clouds. In a single motion, he appeared behind the shadow, twisting his body and unleashing a brutal horizontal slash.
The sword's arc carved a perfect straight line through the air, colliding in the blink of an eye with a single-edged dagger.
Clang!!
The shadow was driven back several steps by the sudden force. Sparks erupted where the greatsword and dagger met. Shock flickered across his face, though his gaze remained cold and steady.
"Bloodhound's Step!?"
He had never heard of a Bloodhound Knight pledging allegiance to the Haligtree. This refined technique originated from Caria. Why would it appear here?
"Church Confessor, you actually know your stuff!"
For a skilled assassin, control over information was everything. If one did not even recognize something so widely known, how could they hope to carry out a mission?
The Church Confessor remained calm, his thoughts racing in an instant.
If he hadn't been prepared, that arrow alone would have been enough to kill the knight.
Which meant that unless it was sheer coincidence, the enemy had likely known they were coming.
Did Miquella already anticipate that the Two Fingers would send them and make preparations in advance?
No wonder he was called the most terrifying Empyrean by the Two Fingers. He truly could not be underestimated.
The Church possessed no intelligence on this knight and had no idea where he came from.
Yet the golden needle armor he wore made his identity unmistakable. A Golden Needle Knight in service to Miquella.
To deliberately hide such a person… it seemed Miquella truly intended to betray the Two Fingers.
The black-armored assassin paused briefly. The other Church emissaries nearby appeared to reach the same conclusion. One after another, they sprang from the shadows.
Some raised black-key crossbows, while others rushed forward with daggers in hand.
But two figures moved even faster.
The Cleanrot Knights on guard stepped in front of Nolan, their spears and war scythes flashing as they intercepted every incoming attack in an instant.
Bolts flew wildly through the air, forcing the Church emissaries back. Nolan halted the Bloodhound's Step he was about to unleash.
With two Cleanrot Knights shielding him, the sense of security was overwhelming.
"Hold on, Nolan! Our reinforcements will be here soon!"
Hearing Arl's voice, Nolan broke into a grin and replied with a teasing tone.
"Arl, Claire, thanks. Though I thought heroes like you two would just say you're going to wipe them all out."
The two Cleanrot Knights rolled their eyes in perfect unison. Arl sighed helplessly.
"Do you really think these Church emissaries are pushovers?"
"Anyone chosen by the Two Fingers to serve as an assassin is anything but ordinary."
"Don't get careless, kid. If something goes wrong, I'm not taking the blame."
Nolan fell silent. Of course he wasn't underestimating them. The fact that one of them had just blocked a greatsword with a dagger was proof enough that these were vicious opponents.
There was no time to think further. The Cleanrot Knights had already clashed with the Church emissaries.
Without hesitation, Nolan raised his left hand and drove a heavy punch forward.
A dull thud rang out as his fist slammed squarely into the Church Confessor's kicking foot.
The sheer force sent Nolan staggering back several steps before he could steady himself.
The confessor landed and followed up instantly, hacking down at Nolan with another strike.
The Golden Needle Knight's understanding of these assassins was sharpening with every exchange. There was no doubt about it now. These killers were hero-tier combatants. Though they operated from the shadows, the power and technique they displayed far surpassed that of ordinary knights.
Their movements were blindingly fast, their physiques frighteningly strong, easily comparable to third-rate heroes.
A flicker of unease crossed Nolan's mind. He couldn't help wondering whether someone even stronger than this opponent was hidden among them.
He blocked another blow, resting the greatsword against his shoulder, and asked with clear confusion in his voice,
"My lord was personally chosen by the Two Fingers, an Empyrean destined to become a god of the future Golden Order Dynasty. Why have you come here?"
The Church Confessor, clearly hardened by rigorous training, ignored him completely. The black-armored assassin raised his dagger and charged again without the slightest pause.
Cold light flashed as the blade struck again and again, fierce as a raging storm.
Nolan could only keep retreating, relying on hard-earned experience and unpredictable footwork to slip past the edge of each strike.
Annoying vermin. Absolutely infuriating.
The Church Confessor knew that the Golden Needle Knight served as Miquella's personal guard, and he knew well that they were all formidable hero-class units.
Yet the young man in front of him didn't fit that image at all.
His swordsmanship was polished, but his raw strength was lacking. He was no hero. The only truly troublesome thing was that strange, elusive footwork inherited from the Bloodhound Knight.
Damn Caria Manor, always meddling with bizarre techniques.
The confessor cast a quick glance around. Seven black-armored figures were already engaged with the Cleanrot Knight.
The situation was extremely unfavorable. Direct combat wasn't their forte. Poison, ambush, and assassination were the tools assassins were meant to use.
"Kill them. Then we withdraw."
The black-clad assassin facing the Cleanrot Knight made the call. Someone immediately echoed the order, so absurd it nearly made Claire laugh.
The Two Fingers? What a joke. They pledged themselves to Malenia, not to a handful of broken fingers.
Did these assassins really think the Cleanrot Knight were made of clay, to be toyed with as they pleased?
"Today, none of you are leaving," Claire said, enunciating every word.
Clang!
Her war scythe swept through, forcing a Church Confessor back several meters, his footing briefly thrown into disarray.
The battle erupted once more.
Nolan twisted aside, sparks bursting as a dagger scraped past his breastplate.
The slash missed. Seeing the Golden Needle Knight step in, arm extended and muscles coiling, the greatsword on his shoulder came crashing down in a single, decisive arc.
Clang!!
The Church Confessor rolled sideways, nimble and fast, dropping into a crouch as several throwing daggers flew from his hand.
Thud! Clang! Clang! Clang!
A heavily armored foot slammed into the ground.
In an instant, a violent gust surged outward from Nolan, blasting every dagger away.
Storm Stomp!
The Church Confessor recognized the combat technique at once, showing no surprise.
Back when the First Elden Lord marched south and defeated the Storm King, the Lands Between fell under conquest. Limgrave was claimed by the Golden Order Dynasty and turned into a domain of the Golden Lineage.
The warriors who once served the Storm King, stripped of their homeland, came to be known as the Banished Knights.
Miquella had taken in a number of these Banished Knights, so seeing storm-based techniques here was hardly unexpected.