Six shooting stars slammed into the Scholar's Shields of several knights, detonating with a dull boom as sparks sprayed in all directions. The shield surfaces caved in instantly, deep dents forming as the meteors rebounded and streaked sideways, blasting a cluster of soldiers off their feet.
"Spread out! Block him with Cuckoo Glintstones! We'll deal with him once we're back at camp!"
The knight commander roared himself hoarse, trying to regain control, when a figure suddenly appeared ahead.
With practiced horsemanship, the knight veered aside, parrying Nolan's slashes in rapid succession. Some riders, lacking the strength to endure the blows, swayed violently after a single heavy strike. Nolan seized the moment. His Claymore drove straight through a narrow opening.
Magical Power surged outward, condensing into an energy greatsword. Caria's thrust pierced clean through the knight's body, lifting him high into the air. When the Magical Power dissipated, the corpse dropped heavily to the ground.
As several knights broke and fled, the stunned soldiers finally found something to react to. Even the Cuckoo Knights scouting the perimeter wheeled their horses around, galloping hard toward the main camp.
Blood dripped from his iron armor as Nolan lifted his head and swept his gaze across the battlefield, stopping at the southeast. That was where the Cuckoo camp lay.
From afar, flames rose high into the night sky, battle cries echoing without pause. The fighting there had clearly already begun.
"I can't let you go back now."
Just how much could a surprise force change the course of a battle? No one understood that better than Nolan.
Even if these were nothing more than panicked fugitives, the forces locked in combat wouldn't grasp the situation immediately.
Without the slightest hesitation, Nolan summoned Torrent and vaulted onto the saddle, spurring the steed into a full gallop. If these remnants made it back, panic would spread like wildfire. The knights and their commanders had to be stopped here.
"Move! Faster—push them harder!"
The knights weren't fools. Whips cracked sharply against horseflesh, and hooves thundered as clouds of dust billowed into the air. They tightened their grips on their lances and raised their thick, solid Greatshields to cover their bodies, as if expecting another enemy to burst out in front of them at any moment. They even formed up instinctively into a charging formation.
The distance was barely a few dozen meters. Torrent closed it with ease. Yet Nolan, astride the galloping steed, remained ice-cold.
The Gavel of Haima!
Magical Power swelled once more along the Carian Greatsword. The hammer smashed down, crushing shield and rider, rider and horse alike, sending the guarding knights sprawling across the ground.
With their line breached so effortlessly, the cavalry was forced to halt.
The surrounding commanders snapped out of their shock, lifting their spears and stabbing viciously toward Nolan.
Nolan clamped his legs tight, driving Torrent into another burst of speed. Before the hammer's aura faded, he poured strength into his arms and swung it in a wide, sweeping arc.
Sparks flew as lances scraped across the Carian Knights' armor. Two riders were struck clean off their mounts, slamming heavily into the dirt.
"Just as expected. Ordinary soldiers don't compare."
Three slain, the rest scattered. Watching the scene, one couldn't help but feel the vast gulf between men.
At least these knights could still fight back. Soldiers facing Nolan had no such chance. They could only be slaughtered.
Hoofbeats grew frantic as a warhorse taller than a man was smashed to the ground by a single blow.
The sudden chaos spooked the horses in the rear. They reared and screamed, plunging the entire formation into disorder.
Outmatched in strength, outpaced in speed. Unable to fight, unable to flee. Was there anything more despairing than this?
It was no exaggeration to say that just these few fully armed Cuckoo Knights could wipe out a hundred-man combat unit.
And yet, at this very moment, facing the lone figure of Nolan, they found themselves unable to summon the courage to stand against him.
"Don't engage head-on. Use Cuckoo Glintstone."
The commander issued the order, and several knights moved at once.
They quickly flanked outward from both sides of the formation, opening distance as they hurled large handfuls of Glintstones, then swept around from the rear to converge.
The instant the Glintstones struck the ground, a heavy, muffled boom rang out, erupting into a blaze of brilliant Magical Power.
And then Nolan vanished from where he stood.
"Huh??"
The knights froze. A heartbeat later, the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground echoed from nearby.
Two warhorses had their legs severed. Their riders lost balance and toppled over, blades following through and plunging into their bodies.
"Damn it! Dismount! Use your shields!" The commander barked, veins bulging across his forehead as he barely restrained himself from cursing aloud.
No normal person could react to a cavalry charge and then turn around and split an armored warhorse with a single backhanded strike. This man was a monster.
With their footing compromised, the knights found it harder to defend themselves. At this moment, their mounts had become their greatest weakness.
Nolan flashed forward, both swords slamming into two Greatshields at once. The commander and another knight threw all their strength into defense, only to be blasted several meters backward.
From that brief exchange alone, Nolan instantly gauged the gap between their strengths.
After months of continuous combat, his power was no longer comparable to when he had left the academy. He could not yet claim to slay Demigods with ease, but he was already approaching second-tier level.
As for this commander, he had barely stepped into the threshold of a third-rate champion, far inferior even to the Cuckoo Vice Commander Nolan had killed over half a month ago.
Still, for the Cuckoo Legion, this level was hardly surprising.
If they truly had several heroes like Ingram to deploy, then the one who should be worried would be the Magic Academy.
"Perhaps the strategic objective can be adjusted."
Nolan tilted his head slightly, glancing at the Claymores and lances thrusting violently from behind the shields, and broke into a grin.
Before this, his goal had only been to delay the Cuckoo forces from returning to camp. Now, he was already considering taking the commander's head.
With a casual sweep of his arm, a rain of Magical Power meteors descended from the sky, collisions ringing out in rapid succession.
Several knights were driven back by the overwhelming force, though a handful still managed to hold their ground.
They were clearly stronger. Gritting their teeth, they retreated a few steps, and the moment they saw the enemy closing in on Carlos—
"Kill!"
The knights adjusted instantly, lances leveled at their waists as they charged forward in a single, frenzied burst, thrusting their weapons with all their might.
The thrust was terrifyingly fast.
Piercing Fang!
Shrill whistles tore through the air, flooding Nolan's ears.
Reflected in his eyes was the sight of the knights' ferocious charge, iron boots kicking up mud, lances flashing with cold light.
Perhaps only when standing at the edge of life and death did the Cuckoo finally remember the valor a knight was meant to possess.
Nolan kept running forward, twisting his body as both Claymores spun into motion.
The twin blades crossed and danced. One sword knocked aside the oncoming lance, the other smashed hard into the shield, and then he pivoted, bringing the greatsword crashing down with full force.
Sword Dance: Dual Wielding with Claymores!