Mud splashed across Vane's iron boots as he sprinted at the towering troll. His twin short swords hissed in the freezing air, radiating sharp, brilliant white mana.
The beast roared, shaking the earth, and swung its tree-trunk club in a wide, devastating arc.
Blocking it would have shattered Vane's arms. Instead, he dropped into a violent slide through the mud, slipping cleanly beneath the swinging wood. As he passed the beast's legs, Vane slashed upward with both blades in a tight cross-cut.
The white mana sheared through thick, leathery hide, drawing a sudden geyser of black blood.
The beast howled and stumbled, but it didn't fall. Driven by pure rage, it pivoted on bleeding legs and slammed the trunk straight down.
Vane rolled hard to the right. The wood hit the ground like a falling boulder, sending up a shockwave of mud and splintered cobblestone that threw Vane off his feet. He crashed against the side of a burning cart, gasping for breath. His stamina was burning out fast.
"Sergeant!" one of his remaining fifteen men yelled, trying to break through the horde's infantry to help him. But the enemy was relentless, pinning the cavalrymen down in a desperate melee.
Across the square, Captain Krag was fighting fiercely, his sword flashing white as he cut down the dark shamans. But he was too far away to reach Vane in time.
The troll loomed over Vane, its face twisted in a sadistic grin. It raised the heavy trunk high with both hands, preparing to flatten the exhausted sergeant into the mud.
Vane crossed his glowing swords over his chest, teeth gritted. If this is it, he thought, I am taking its arm off before I go.
But the blow never landed.
A deafening crack erupted at the edge of the village. The heavy wooden barricades at the town entrance violently exploded inward, showering the horde with flaming splinters. Through the smoke and fire, a warhorse charged into the square at terrifying speed.
Lord Percival Kent didn't even bother slowing his mount. He stood up in his stirrups and vaulted off the galloping horse, launching his heavily armored body through the air toward the troll.
Kent's greatsword was drawn, engulfed in a roaring inferno of golden Paladin mana.
The troll looked up just in time to see a golden meteor falling from the sky. Kent brought his broadsword down with the force of a collapsing mountain.
The strike hit the raised wood. The dense golden mana didn't just cut it;it vaporized the center of the tree, shearing straight through the trunk and slicing the troll cleanly in half from shoulder to hip.
The two halves of the beast hit the mud with a wet, heavy thud.
Kent landed in a crouch, the ground cracking beneath his steel boots. The blinding golden aura radiating from his body illuminated the blood-soaked square.
The battlefield went dead silent. The horde infantry froze, staring in terror at the Commander who had just obliterated their strongest monster in a single swing.
"Commander!" Vane gasped, lowering his twin swords, entirely in awe.
Kent slowly stood to his full height. He casually flicked the black blood from his broadsword. His eyes, cold and merciless, swept over the remaining horde.
"Krag! Vane!" Kent's deep voice echoed over the burning village. "Rally your men! Protect the tower!"
"YES, MY LORD!" Krag and Vane roared, a second wind surging through them.
Kent gripped his greatsword with both hands, the golden mana flaring brighter. He didn't wait for the horde to attack. He charged directly into the thickest cluster of the enemy line.
It wasn't a battle anymore. It was an execution.
Kent swung his blade in heavy, sweeping arcs. Every swing unleashed crescent waves of golden energy that severed limbs, shattered armor, and cut down monsters by the dozen. The horde panicked, their morale broken by the overwhelming strength of the Phoenix Knight. They broke formation and scattered for the dark woods.
But Krag and Vane's cavalrymen, revitalized by their Commander's arrival, mercilessly hunted down the retreating monsters, ensuring not a single one escaped the village alive.
Within ten minutes, the fires began to die down. The surviving villagers slowly opened the heavy wooden doors of the stone tower, peering out in disbelief.
The village square was stained black with monster blood, but Oakhaven had survived.
Kent sheathed his sword, the golden light finally fading from the courtyard. He walked over to where Vane and Krag were catching their breath.
"You held the line," Kent said, offering a rare, proud smile to his officers. "You fought well today. Both of you."