Translator: CinderTL
His experiences in the capital and fighting side-by-side in the Mistland had long convinced Reggie of Roland's judgment.
However...
After hearing Roland's plan, Reggie casually swept the surrounding magitech constructs into fragments with a single strike. His gaze involuntarily drifted toward the distant core battlefield, where the storm raged.
The battle there was far more intense and terrifying than anything he had witnessed.
The glow of combat techniques, the fluctuations of secret arts, and the dazzling radiance of various spells intertwined, weaving a tapestry of destruction.
Amidst the deafening roar, the once-solid ground sank and collapsed, forming a massive crater as if struck by a meteorite from the sky.
Yet even so, the transcendent professionals from the River Domain Nations had failed to capture the Lich.
Worse still, as time passed, Reggie keenly sensed the scales of victory slowly tipping in the Lich's favor.
Fortunately...
Reggie narrowed his eyes, straining to make out a shimmering golden figure within the chaotic battlefield.
Though he couldn't comprehend what power the Knight Academy Dean had wielded to transform himself into such a monstrous form, the Dean clearly retained a sliver of his sanity, continuing to fight alongside the other transcendents against the Lich.
It was precisely because of this that the transcendents from the River Domain Nations were barely able to hold the Lich in a stalemate, pinning him down in that blighted land.
However, this stalemate meant they had no remaining strength to support other battlefronts.
"Roland!"
With that thought, Reggie took a deep breath, tore his gaze away from the distant High Tower, and shouted toward Roland.
"You stay here! I'll lead an elite force to destroy that tower!"
"No! Instructor Reggie!"
Roland, who had also been observing the fierce battle between the transcendents and the Lich, knew the situation was critical.
If they didn't destroy the tower while the transcendents were still tying down the Lich, their only fate would be death once the transcendents fell.
He didn't believe a spellcaster capable of transforming himself into an undead being and unleashing such a massive war would show him any mercy.
Therefore, at that moment, concentrating all their strength to destroy the tower was their only hope for survival.
With this thought, he shouted to rally his scattered comrades while calling out to Reggie, "I'll go with you!"
"But..." Reggie began, looking at the young man before him, his expression resolute.
Reggie's eyes filled with deep admiration.
Young, with astonishing potential and a courageous spirit.
Roland was undoubtedly the most outstanding student he had seen in his decades of teaching at the Knight Academy.
Allowing such a talent to perish here would be an immeasurable loss to the River Domain Nations.
His brow furrowed, and his sharp gaze swept toward the road leading to the spire.
Along the path to the towering spire, magitech constructs and roaring undead surged in endless waves of metal and rotting flesh, forming an unstoppable tide.
Their ability to strategize at all was thanks to the protection of the main army formation.
If a small, elite force were to charge forward, they would be instantly overwhelmed by the surrounding torrent of death.
As for advancing slowly with the entire legion?
Not that Reggie underestimated his forces, but he had little confidence that the transcendent beings struggling under the Lich's onslaught could hold out that long.
Seeing the hesitation in Reggie's eyes, Roland immediately understood that the mentor was concerned for his safety.
He simply shook his head and spoke again.
"Instructor Reggie! If the Lich wins this battle, even if I'm surrounded by a thousand soldiers, there will be no chance of survival! That Lich will show no mercy!"
"The kid's right!"
Several streaks of silver light flashed, and the magitech constructs that had rushed forward to fill the gaps were instantly torn to shreds, scattering into a shower of metallic fragments.
Jashu coughed heavily and limped over to the pair, clutching his wounded arm.
"Reggie! Hand over command here to the junior officers."
His voice was urgent, leaving no room for argument.
"Immediately gather an elite squad. I'll go with you."
"Y-Yes, Lord Jiaxiu!"
Reggie no longer hesitated. He turned and hurried away.
"Kid..."
The short blade at Jashu's waist flashed again, a deadly cold light that precisely pinned several undead swooping down from the air.
Watching their twitching corpses on the ground, the assassin frowned in disgust before turning to Roland.
"You were born in the wrong era..."
Perhaps it was the stimulation of this grand battle that made Jashu, usually so taciturn, talk more than usual.
"If only I'd been born a few decades earlier..."
He glanced at Reggie's retreating figure and snorted in displeasure.
"You should have been that guy's mentor! I can't imagine what Lord Derek was thinking, letting such a... lacking person command the army."
Having vented his frustration, he returned to the matter at hand.
"Go gather your companions."
"Yes, Lord Jiaxiu!"
Roland ignored Jashu's criticism of Reggie and quickly spotted several companions in the chaotic battlefield.
He briefly explained the plan, and no one objected, except for Galvis...
"Ooh! The hero's moment has arrived!"
The bard wiped the sweat from his brow and his fingers flew across the strings.
In the next moment, his resonant voice, accompanied by a surge of thunderous music that pierced the battlefield's din, suddenly rang out:
"Throw yourselves into this grand war of roaring steel and war drums splitting the heavens!"
"In the vortex of war horns and bloody flames, become the blade of victory, the weight on the scales of justice, and ultimately tread over scorched earth and fallen banners, returning in triumph from the hills of corpses!"
"This... this is the path that forges heroes!"
"Wait, Galvis..."
Roland frowned, interrupting his recitation.
"Did you write this yourself?"
"Not exactly."
Galvis shook his head.
"My teacher used it in an ancient text when praising a certain hero. What do you think, Roland? Doesn't it fit the scene perfectly?"
"It... does fit the scene somewhat," Roland replied, his gaze lingering on the words, which bore striking similarities to the qualification requirements for the extraordinary profession of Knight. He shook his head slightly.
Now was not the time to dwell on such matters.
Soon, Reggie returned with a squad of elite soldiers.
"Alright, men!"
Roland gripped his Mithril Longsword, his gaze sweeping across the enemy forces stretching out before them like an endless tide of death. He took a deep breath and shouted loudly:
"Stay sharp! Don't die like cowards here!"
"When we return to the capital, I'll personally treat everyone to seven days and seven nights of revelry at the finest establishment!"
Before the words had even finished, Theresa lifted a hand and brushed back the silver hair at her ear, a faint smile gracing her usually impassive face.
"Then I'll have food for twenty."
Avril straightened her posture, her stance as serious as if reporting to a superior, but her left eye winked playfully.
"I want the most luxurious suite! A king-sized bed, a bathtub, hot water... Ah, just thinking about it is so relaxing..."
Orc Freddy scratched the back of his head with his rough, calloused hand and grinned good-naturedly.
"Then I won't be shy, Mr. Roland."
"Roland, I don't need anything so fancy!" Galvis chimed in with a mischievous grin.
"All you have to do is tell me every single detail of what happened after the Howling Gorge, exactly as it happened!"
Roland sighed helplessly.
"Galvis, I really think you should opt for some material comforts instead..."
He glanced at the silent Purple-Haired Witch, then raised his Mithril Longsword high.
"Alright, everyone! Let's go!"
"Yeah!"
(End of the Chapter)
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