Night blanketed the land. In the deep hush, the Carian army advanced soundlessly along both sides of the road.
The road had already carried them past Annecy's scattered houses and village buildings, stretching farther and farther toward the northern lakeshore.
Far away to the southeast, out of reach, pillars of fire surged into the sky, staining the horizon a violent red. Even the silhouettes of the reeds were swallowed by that glare.
They were only one step from the northern shore of Lianya. All that remained was to board the small boats, throw themselves into the oars, and cross the lake.
But dawn had not yet broken. Night still held the world in a tight grip.
The Dark Moon Knight stood steady at the heart of the raiding force. Several Albinaurics rode giant wolves at his side, while the soldiers borrowed from the royal domain followed close behind.
In the pitch-black dark, Latenna noticed the knight remained motionless, like a statue, waiting until everyone had safely boarded the boats.
A clear order to push off came from up ahead. Latenna hurried over to the Dark Moon Knight and asked, worried,
"You're not getting on?"
"Not yet. Support me with arrows from the lake, then wait for my command."
Nolan planted both hands firmly on the sword hilt, eyes fixed on the distance as he spoke.
"And if I die, don't wait for any command. You take charge."
"Th… yes."
Latenna wanted to argue, but the sound of hoofbeats was drawing closer. The words died in her throat.
Nolan drew the Promised Claymore with his right hand, then lifted the Carian Greatsword in his left and swung.
The light of the Cannon of Haima flared across the sky, and hundreds of Cuckoo soldiers instinctively looked up.
Truth be told, the moment they realized the Annecy tax collection force had been wiped out, fear had already crept in. They had been watching the darkness around them every second, tense and jumpy.
What a beautiful meteor… wait, that looks like a can—
The dazzling light locked their thoughts in place. The blast thundered, and severed limbs flew in every direction. In the chaos, Magical Power gathered again, forming a strange sigil.
Crystal Burst!
The Dark Moon Knight exploded into the ranks as blue particles and reformed in an instant, close enough it felt like firing a shotgun right into someone's face. A spray of crystal shards tore through flesh, splattering Nolan with fragments of meat.
Confronted with that blood-soaked scene, the same thought struck every soldier at once.
A Carian Knight was terrifying.
Nolan hated being passive. He had moved a little early.
As soldiers all around turned toward him, he didn't waste time thinking. He lifted his right foot and slammed it down hard.
Hoarfrost Stomp!
After taking the name of Dark Moon Knight, he could learn any of the royal domain's techniques aside from legendary Sorceries. This was one of them.
A bone-deep cold surged out like a raging flood, bursting from beneath his foot in an instant.
Unlike the usual fan-shaped sweep, this freezing wave spread outward in a perfect circle.
Nolan's gaze swept across the soldiers as countless sharp ice spikes erupted from the ground, punching straight through bodies.
As the frost faded, urgent hoofbeats approached from the distance.
A powerful warhorse thundered in, its rider braced behind a long spear and a Greatshield.
Bloodhound's Step!
Nolan vanished.
In the next heartbeat, he was behind the rider.
Towering over him, Nolan looked down at the soldier who had just tightened his grip on the spear, still too slow to react.
The Promised Claymore swept sideways, cutting through iron armor and flesh alike. With a dull crack, hot blood sprayed across Nolan's face.
As he turned, the Promised Claymore flared with golden light. Sacred Blade flew out in one smooth motion, and the charging rider and steed shattered in an instant.
No one cared whether that officer was truly dead. A mass of Cuckoo soldiers poured out of the grass, brandishing every kind of weapon, long and short.
Nolan turned in silence, his eyes passing over them. Without a word, he raised both greatswords at once.
Sacred Blade!
Glintstone Arc!
He didn't need to think. To Nolan, the Cuckoo soldiers were nothing but targets, and in his hands, those two powers landed with brutal effectiveness.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
Sword energy burst forth in an instant. Golden and blue light interwove, flooding every inch of space ahead and shredding everything within a dozen meters.
Where it passed, hardened armor and bodies tempered by countless battles were no sturdier than paper, torn apart without resistance.
A sharp, piercing howl ripped through the air. Some soldiers stared wide-eyed, trying to make sense of what they were seeing, but the light was so blinding it burned their eyes, swallowing their vision whole.
Puff, puff, puff…
Like trees being felled, more than a dozen soldiers were split apart on the spot. Brilliant, gruesome blossoms of blood burst open in midair.
The sheer brutality of the scene, savage yet eerily beautiful, struck terror into the soldiers at the rear, leaving them completely stunned.
They no longer cared about hitting their own men. Longbows were raised, Cuckoo Glintstones readied, when a towering figure charged straight at them.
Promised Claymore in his right hand, Carian Greatsword in his left, his body drenched in blood, Nolan never gave his enemies a moment to breathe.
His twin blades rose and fell in a blur, cold light flashing with every swing. Each strike was answered by a scream and a spray of blood.
On the chaotic battlefield, he was like an invincible god of war, dominating the fight through sheer force alone.
Before his greatswords, the bodies of common soldiers were no different from weeds.
"This… this is impossible!"
Carlos drove his horse forward, stopping barely a few dozen meters from the smoke-choked battlefield, yet he hesitated, unable to advance.
From the moment they realized the situation was dire and rushed to reinforce, barely half a minute had passed.
And yet the vanguard had already been cut down by more than half. The survivors were so terrified their legs shook.
Weren't Carian Knights supposed to be weak?
But what he saw with his own eyes was ferocity beyond anything he had imagined.
He had never fought a Carian Knight, never seen a warrior so brutally overwhelming.
Watching the Carian soldiers firing arrows from the lake, realizing that there truly was only one man carving through the battlefield, left him feeling as if his understanding of the world itself was collapsing.
Carian Knights really weren't something a band of opportunists like them could challenge.
Run. Run now.
The conclusion formed in an instant. The commander-in-chief wrenched the reins without hesitation, spun his horse around, and fled at full speed.
The surrounding commanders were stunned by how fast he bolted.
Almost at the same moment, a dazzling rain of meteors descended from the sky. The commanders reacted quickly, raising their Greatshields to protect themselves.
"Retreat! Fall back to camp! Everyone, retreat!"
They shouted at the top of their lungs, panic plain in their voices.
This outcome suited the commander-in-chief perfectly. They could still bury that knight under sheer numbers, but it would cost them dearly. At least half their men would die here, and even his own life would be at risk.