Volume 2 chapter 37
The banners of the Alliance had retreated beyond the horizon, leaving behind only devastation.
Gunpowder smoke lingered in the heavy air, mixing with the stench of charred earth and copper blood.
Massive craters marred the battlefield, inside which scattered fragments of armor lay twisted—grim testaments to the lives vaporized by the fortress artillery.
Above, clouds of mana residue and dust merged into a leaden ceiling, blotting out the sun and casting the world in a perpetual, gloomy twilight.
Crack! Crack...
A hand burst from the loose soil. Luna struggled to drag herself out of the dirt, swaying unsteadily as she forced herself to stand.
Her right arm was gone. A gaping hole had been punched through her slender abdomen. Blood masked her face, flowing from a ruined eye socket where a blade had slashed from eyebrow to jaw, nearly cleaving her skull in two.
"Did I... win?"
She turned her head, scanning the battlefield with her remaining eye. Not a single soul was left standing.
Clop-clop-clop...
From the fortress gate, Kane, the Artillery Commander, rushed out with dozens of soldiers.
"Commander! You need treatment immediately!!"
Before his horse even stopped, Kane threw himself off and caught Luna as she collapsed.
"Not... not yet..." Luna gripped his shoulder with her remaining hand, her voice weak as a dying ember. "Find... find the wounded! Support Finn... and Byron... and..."
"I understand! Don't worry! The Pure Mana Pool is ready for you! We're taking you back now!" Kane lifted her gently onto a stretcher and barked orders. "Move! Get Commander Luna to the Mana Pool! No delays!!"
"Yes, Sir!!" Soldiers lifted the stretcher and sprinted toward the gates.
"And Eleanor... you have to... pick her up... promise me..."
Even on the stretcher, fighting unconsciousness, Luna used her last ounce of strength to rasp out the order.
"Haa..." Kane took a deep breath, watching her being carried away. He turned to the soldiers around him. "Search the field carefully! If there's anyone breathing, get them to the Mana Pool immediately!"
"Yes, Sir!"
Evening.
Finn and Byron returned to the fortress.
Between the two of them, they brought back only a few hundred broken soldiers. Both commanders were heavily wounded, but they carried good news: they had successfully burned over half of the Alliance's rear supply depots. The Alliance would be paralyzed for a time.
But what they didn't know was that a new storm was gathering.
Just one day later, a fresh legion arrived. The Holy Crusade Army of the Church, led by five Archbishops and numbering 200,000 strong.
And they were not the last. With the demon air force grounded, more fragmented Alliance legions were converging on Talisk. The Crusade Army was just the vanguard; over a million troops were en route.
Worse still, with rumors spreading that the Demon Lord herself was at Talisk, Ninth-Rank powerhouses from the Eastern and Western fronts were diverting their course toward the fortress.
Talisk had become the eye of the storm.
Chapter 128: The Watcher on the Mountain
The Old Mountains.
Eleanor stood on the peak, watching the water level of the barrier lake rise toward the brim. She was about to smile in satisfaction when a scout rushed up.
"Commander! Alliance soldiers detected approaching!"
______________________
Bishop Wick was a Seventh-Rank Knight and a field commander of the Holy Crusade Army.
At this moment, he led a thousand Paladins to inspect the Prague River, solely because a Grand Magus had detected abnormal mana fluctuations in the area.
"Talking about 'potential demon schemes'... Hmph. They just wanted to sideline me so I wouldn't share the glory of conquering the fortress... Damn Bishop Cologne..."
Wick grumbled internally as he rode, though he dared not voice his complaints.
Cologne was an Eighth-Rank Senior Bishop, a veteran only one step below the Archbishops. Wick, on the other hand, was a newly promoted Bishop of only twenty years. When he was still a lowly Sixth-Rank Vice-Bishop, Cologne was already a power player. He couldn't refuse the order.
"Bishop, dust cloud ahead!"
Priest Sterling noticed the sullen look on Wick's face and reported cautiously.
The hierarchy of the Church of Holy Light was strict: Monk, Deacon, Sub-Priest, Priest, High Priest, Vice-Bishop, Bishop, Senior Bishop, Archbishop. While not strictly tied to power levels, a higher rank almost always meant a higher tier of strength.
Sterling was a Fifth-Rank Knight. Though not from Wick's diocese, he had to show utmost respect.
"Oh?" Bishop Wick snapped out of his thoughts and looked up.
What he saw nearly stopped his heart.
Eleanor, leading two thousand Shock Troopers in full charge formation, was thundering down the mountainside straight at him!
"Not good! Ambush!!"
Wick screamed, frantically ordering his troops to shift from marching to defensive formation.
But it was too late. Eleanor had spotted them long ago and positioned her forces behind the ridge. By the time the Paladins saw them, the demons had already crested the peak and built up lethal momentum.
RUMBLE...
The unprepared Crusade unit shattered on impact. Armor crumpled, and horses were trampled.
Seeing the rout, Wick didn't hesitate. He leaped into the air, abandoning his thousand men without a second thought, and fled.
"Kill them all!!"
Eleanor led her troops in several devastating passes, slaughtering the confused Paladins. After ordering her subordinates to finish off the stragglers, she launched herself into the air to chase the fleeing commander.
Regrettably, the Bishop ran with decisive cowardice. By the time Eleanor took flight, he was gone. After searching briefly, she gave up.
"Commander! Battlefield cleared!"
When she returned, her troops were already looting the bodies.
"Good! Return to camp!" Eleanor nodded and led her men back into the mountains.
Chapter 129: The Crusade Moves
Night.
Bishop Wick fled back to the main Alliance camp, screaming the moment he arrived.
"Disaster! There really are demons in the Old Mountains! I was ambushed!!"
"Bishop Wick! Calm down!! Look at yourself—where is your dignity as a Bishop?!" Senior Bishop Cologne scolded him.
"Enough, Cologne. And Bishop Wick, take a breath," Archbishop Splinter spoke with a steady, calming voice. His palm glowed with soft light, casting a spell to wash away Wick's fatigue.
"Haa... Thank you, Your Grace!" Wick felt the relief and bowed deeply to Splinter.
"Now, tell us clearly. How many demons did you encounter? What rank was the leader?" Splinter asked.
"I..." Wick thought back, trying to frame his flight in the best light. "I was ambushed by two thousand demons! They were lying in wait, so they must have spotted me early. The leader was a Seventh-Rank Flame Demon! She was stronger than me, and with the element of surprise... I was defeated."
"Seventh-Rank!?" Cologne was startled. "With high-ranking demons so scarce right now, why would a Seventh-Rank Commander be a hundred kilometers away from the fortress with a significant force?"
"What are they planning?" he asked, puzzled.
"Hmm... Although it is over a hundred kilometers away, further than the fortress, we cannot ignore a force of that size on our flank," Archbishop Splinter looked at the map.
"Bishop Cologne. Tomorrow morning, take Senior Bishop Clovis and ten Bishops. Lead 10,000 Crusade Soldiers to clear the demons from that mountain!"
"Yes, Your Grace!" Cologne bowed.
The Next Day.
Ten thousand Holy Crusade soldiers, led by two Eighth-Rank powerhouses, marched out of the camp in grand formation, heading straight for the Old Mountains.
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