Whoosh—
A powerful bolt whistled past Thorne's head and struck the lead boat. The Magic Shield instantly shattered, and several people on board were blasted into the lake.
"What are you standing around for? Arnold, reload the bolts! Thorne, suppress them with Glintstone Pebbles! You two, get the Fire Pots ready!"
The urgent command reached Thorne's ears, and he rolled his eyes. Did Karin think he was a disciple of the WeMod Sect with infinite mana? Even without a blue bar, he knew that casting spells continuously would make him dizzy.
Wait a little longer, just a little longer. He chewed on the weeds in his mouth, watching as the second ballista shot sent several more flying, while the third was swatted away by a greatsword. "Spotted a knight."
He had been in The Lands Between for several days. Thorne knew clearly that common soldiers were easy to deal with, but the strong could change the tide of battle single-handedly. His enemies were these powerful individuals. The fourth bolt skewered several men like a candied hawthorn stick. The death wails were enough to make one's scalp tingle.
Meanwhile, the boats ahead had reached the shore, and helmeted Cuckoo Soldiers were swarming out frantically.
"Light them up!" Another command rang out. A Fire Pot arched through the air, only to be shattered mid-flight by a thrown javelin. A Cuckoo Knight stood at the bow of a boat, staring coldly in their direction. Accurately hitting a Fire Pot from a hundred meters away—this level of martial skill far surpassed that of an ordinary person.
"Second knight. Cover me!" Thorne's right hand snatched a Fire Pot while his left hand pressed against the parapet. He lunged out abruptly.
No words were needed between warriors; Karin and the others immediately understood his plan and raised their bows and crossbows to fire. Arrows flew over his head, while crossbow bolts and Cuckoo Glintstone faced him from the front.
However, Thorne wasn't acting on a whim; he knew exactly what he needed to do: Stall for time. Stall until the main battlefield survived its hardest moment. Stall until the Carian Knights arrived to reinforce them.
He sprinted forward, hunching his back to minimize his profile. An arrow grazed his cheek, drawing a trail of blood.
He licked the blood running down and bared his teeth in a sa...
The moment the knight raised his hand, Thorne's left hand gripped the Bloodhounds Fang on his back, triggering the Ash of War's 'program.'
Swish—
The curved sword swept aside the flying spear, the impact slightly numbing his hand.
Without a second thought, his tensed muscles forcefully halted his momentum. Backstep! He leaped backward as dirt sprayed everywhere. A javelin slammed into the ground right in front of him, kicking up wet soil as the sound of whistling air continued without pause.
Bloodhound's Finesse! The brief pause yielded a swifter burst of speed.
Thorne vanished from his spot, lunging forward several steps and using the momentum to hurl the Fire Pot.
"How is that possible!?" Daligre's eyes widened. Due to the dim light, he hadn't seen clearly how Thorne dodged the 'Meteor Volley.' Seeing the Fire Pot flying toward him, he knew things were about to go south.
Clang—Boom! The ceramic shattered. The item made of Mushrooms and Smoldering Butterflies ignited the oil poured into the soil. The air instantly became scorching as a wall of fire rose before them.
"Agh!" Shrill screams rang out.
The dozen or so soldiers who had just landed instantly became human torches. They wailed and ran around blindly, trying to jump into the lake to extinguish the flames, but these headless flies instead ignited the boats behind them.
"Kill them!"
Another Cuckoo Knight cleaved a burning man in two with one sword strike and raised a Magic Greatshield to his side.
With a 'clang,' a flying bolt knocked him back several meters. Seeing the dent in his shield, his face darkened. Using fire to stall and then ballistae to kill—these Carians had also learned to be despicable.
Daligre hesitated for a moment before roughly dragging someone hiding behind him forward. The person wore magic robes and a slightly oversized glintstone crown. Judging by the face on the crown, it was a sorcerer from the Karolos Conspectus.
"Do something! Do you want to swim back to the Academy!?"
The Academy lecturer trembled, seemingly finally grasping the situation. The bolts piercing through the wall of fire didn't care if you were a scholar or a warrior; if they hit, you died. He hurriedly raised his staff, and the Academy's crest expanded.
Comet Azur!
He swung the staff left and right, throwing out one magic Comet Azur after another with long trails, tearing the wall of fire in front of him to shreds.
What?! By this time, Thorne had retreated behind the parapet and was picking up two Fire Pots to add fuel to the Cuckoo roast when he saw the deep blue magic projectiles heading his way. His limbs were faster than his brain. He lunged forward to tackle Karin and Arnold. The three of them rolled into the trench behind them, and before they even hit the ground—
Rumble! Magic Flowers bloomed.
The ballista exploded into a pile of splinters, and the parapet vanished entirely. Thorne shook his head, dizzy, and sucked in a lungful of scorching air. Now this was magic!
The wall of fire, torn apart by magic, was fading as the oil burned away. Knight Daligre stood at the bow of the ship.
He glanced first at the two Glintstone Dragons locked in a death struggle in the lake behind him, then at the magic lecturer who was still retching. "This idiot used too much mana in his panic!"
He frowned, but then he thought that if sorcerers were experts at slaughter, his lordship wouldn't have considered replacing them. Ignoring the sorcerer behind him, Daligre surveyed the beach. Charred corpses were scattered everywhere, along with bodies skewered by massive ballista bolts. By his estimation, less than half of the eighty-man strike team remained. He drew his greatsword.
"Cuckoo, advance!"
The remaining Cuckoo Soldiers scrambled forward, forming a tight phalanx. Shields raised, shoulder to shoulder, they advanced over the embers. Just as they reached solid ground, a screech echoed in the air.
Thwip.
The soldier at the very front took an arrow to the eye and fell with a scream. The annoying thwack of a crossbow string rang out again. Did these Carians build fortifications? Daligre immediately realized the enemy wasn't dead yet.
Instead, they were hiding in the shadows, firing continuously, while his own side was illuminated by the embers, turned into sitting ducks.
"Charge! Don't get bogged down with these remnants!" The knight rushed to the front, his greatsword sweeping away arrows as he shoved the shield-bearing soldiers forward with kicks and pulls.
The two knights charged ahead, stepping over the shattered parapet and trampling the ballista fragments. Looking closer, there was only the mangled corpse of a sword-and-shield soldier on the ground. Damn it, all bark and no bite.
Daligre cursed under his breath as he crossed the trench and headed up the slope. Over there was the manor, shrouded in a cloud of fire, and the sounds of intense battle reached his ears. The main force had already scaled the walls. As long as we strike from the rear, the Carians' entire line will surely crumble!
As he was thinking, an arrow suddenly shot out from the pine forest on the right. A soldier nearby clutched his face and rolled on the ground. "They haven't broken yet!?" The knight's eyes widened. Those few remnants were actually trying to pin them down from the flank.
While he hesitated, a burst of red light exploded in the night sky. That was Grandmaster Matthews questioning why they hadn't made their move yet.
"First squad, with me! Deal with these annoying flies! Tore, you take the rest and push inside along the path. Make sure to set the Carian warehouses on fire!"
He made his decision in an instant. The strike team wasn't here to play hide-and-seek with a few stragglers. They had to break in, burn the warehouses, and slaughter the wounded to completely shatter the Carians' psychological defenses!
"They've split up." Thorne leaned against a tree.
By the light of the fire started by the Fire Pots, he saw the thirty-some Cuckoo Soldiers divide into two teams. The javelin-throwing knight took three men into the woods, while the main group led by the other knight charged toward the manor. Their packs were bulging; he didn't need to ask what was inside.
"Let's split up too, Captain. You guys keep stalling over there; leave this side to me." The tomboy was stunned. She had been prepared to fight to the death at the lakeshore before being dragged away.
She blurted out, "Are you sure?"
"Very sure," Thorne nodded heavily.
There was no room for hesitation on the battlefield. Karin took her bow and left, but after a few steps, she turned back and gave Thorne a light pat.
"Take care."
"Don't die," the dull man carrying the Fire Pots squeezed out a few words.
"I'll take your ashes back to the village."
"Screw you." Thorne made a move to kick him, and Arnold quickly dodged and ran off. The sound of clanking armor faded as they disappeared from view. Actually, he didn't need to worry about them. They had stalled for long enough.
Unless Knight Allen was an idiot, he would send reinforcements even if his troops were spread thin. They just had to hold the granary with everything they had. Thorne looked at the figures entering the woods. Common soldiers were nothing, but two Cuckoo Knights charging together might actually break into the manor. He didn't dare gamble on that.
"So, how should I do this—"
His hand gripping the hilt turned white. Thorne narrowed his eyes, threw a Fire Pot, and shot out like an arrow from a bow.
"Slay him!"
Why is there only one person?
Meeting on a narrow path, Daligre instantly realized these remnants weren't giving up. To think a mere handful of people dared to split into two teams. He simply pulled a short spear from his back.
"Seeking death!" The Fire Pot was intercepted and exploded mid-air. The scattered flames ignited the leaves, making the forest suddenly bright. In the glow, a blurred figure moved rapidly between the tree trunks. With a flick of his wrist, he was holding another Fire Pot. Double down! Thorne lunged within ten meters and threw it abruptly.
At such close range, the fire exploded directly on the front soldier's shield, and the spreading flames forced the other two soldiers to dodge in a panic.
Blocking with his shield, the fire didn't ignite the soldier. He just instinctively backed up, then felt someone step on his shield.
Looking up, he saw a figure leap over his head, stabbing down with a reverse-gripped curved sword.
Thwack.
The Bloodhounds Fang pierced through the round helmet, going straight from the crown of the head to the chest.
He jerked his wrist, pulled out the blade, and straightened his body to fall backward, kicking the corpse away in the process.
A moment later— the chest of the corpse in front of him exploded.
A cold gleam swept past Thorne's face, splashing him with blood. Second shot. He counted in his head as he landed. With a palm strike and a surge of core strength, he performed several consecutive backflips to dodge. Wind and fallen leaves whipped his face as another javelin grazed his back and slammed into the dirt. Third shot. He abruptly stopped his backflip and crouched low.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a cold light slashing from the side. A soldier had been waiting there, but Thorne didn't panic. As he turned to meet the attack, he grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it.
Clang!
The straight sword collided with the curved blade, but the thrown dirt covered the soldier's face. He was instantly blinded and felt someone dive between his legs and lift him up. He was sent flying like a projectile, crashing into something hard. Thorne stood up quickly and looked back at the two soldiers who had collided.
This throw wasn't just for show; the two soldiers happened to block the knight's line of sight. The knight held a javelin, momentarily unsure whether to throw it. Though this body isn't there yet, my experience and vision remain! In that moment of hesitation, Thorne lunged forward. His cloak flickered with sparks, looking like a fire arrow in pursuit. He extended his curved sword, using the momentum of the charge to thrust forward.
Puncture!
The blade entered the first soldier's nape, pierced the throat, and slammed directly into the bridge of the shorter soldier's nose. It then went through the face and out the back of the head. Residual pain caused the two to twitch uncontrollably as Thorne pushed the two corpses forward without stopping.
Swish—
Bits of flesh and armor fragments flew through the air. Daligre had finally thrown the javelin. The powerful force actually pierced through both armored bodies and vanished into the dark woods. Such speed, such power. He narrowed his eyes slightly until a blood-soaked man burst through the mist of blood.
"Not dead!?"
Thorne said nothing. A gap had been torn in his breastplate.
If he hadn't twisted his body at the last second, his entire chest would be gone. Thankfully, the knight had followed him into the woods. In an open field, even a Troll would be easy prey to ranged attacks. Time seemed to slow. The distance between them was less than five meters. Seeing the knight grip his greatsword, he decisively triggered the Ash of War within his blade. Bloodhound's Finesse! Without thinking, that strange power allowed him to execute a combo. The curved blade swept upward diagonally, the edge drawing sparks across the hard armor.
The knight's armor was no mere decoration, and the man inside wasn't a brainless brute. He took a half-step back, dodging the diagonal sweep. Before his heel even touched the ground, he stepped forward again, bringing the greatsword down in a heavy vertical slash. Boom! A shallow pit was carved into the earth, but Thorne had already rolled away. This was the advantage of the Ash of War—it could compensate for the gap in reaction speed. As dirt flew, Thorne, who had just stood up, immediately activated the second stage. He vanished from his spot. "Bloodhound Knight?"
For an instant, the thought flashed through Daligre's mind. As allies of the Carian Royal Family, it wasn't strange to encounter a Bloodhound Knight here. He twisted his wrist and swung the greatsword upward. "No, just a brat who knows how to use an Ash of War!" Clang! The diagonal slash clashed with the greatsword, and the curved blade spun up into the sky. The knight tilted his head and gave the airborne youth a savage smile. "Think I haven't seen this Ash of War before? Die..."