NOVPUBAs soon as Kaor and the knights stationed at the Shadow Mountains received Ghislain’s summons, they rushed to Fenris’s territory, dragging the contracted hunters along with them.
Some hunters had initially resisted the call, but a “gentle nudge” from Kaor, known as the King of Ironcliff, swiftly changed their minds.
With the Kingdom of Turian backing Ghislain’s contract, the hunters—having nowhere else to go—couldn’t escape even if they wanted to.
The knights were reassigned to the order and moved alongside Ghislain, while Kaor was tasked with leading the hunters in protecting the mages.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Neigh!
“Arghhh!”
Desmond’s cavalry, unused to facing hunters, couldn’t handle the sudden onslaught and fell one after another.
“Ha! These guys are easier than monsters!”
To the hunters, cavalry were nothing more than oversized monsters with four legs, capable only of charging in straight lines.
Having fought monsters with bizarre and unpredictable physiques, the hunters found cavalry relatively easy opponents.
“Ah! One broke through!”
Of course, with nearly a thousand cavalrymen, it wasn’t possible to block all of them. Some managed to penetrate the gaps between the hunters’ loose formation and charged straight for the mages.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Vanessa, who had been casting a spell with one hand raised, turned her head toward the incoming cavalry. Without hesitation, she extended her free hand toward them.
“Earth Wall.”
Rumble!
A wall of earth rose up instantly. The charging cavalry of Desmond collided with it head-on.
Crash! Crash! Crash!
“Ahhh!”
Neigh!
Horses struck by the impact screamed and collapsed. Several cavalrymen, thrown off by the collision, tumbled to the ground. Those following behind were forced to stop their mounts abruptly.
Seeing the chaos, Kaor shouted in frustration:
“You idiots! Protect the mages! This isn’t a monster hunt!”
Kaor, who had been merely posturing moments ago, rushed forward and began cutting down the cavalry himself. Only then did the hunters reorganize into a secondary formation and manage to hold the cavalry back.
“Damn it... That was close,” Kaor muttered, cold sweat dripping down his face.
If the mages—especially Vanessa—had been harmed, Ghislain would never have let him or the hunters off. Worse, it wouldn’t just be Ghislain; losing the mages could have cost them the entire battle, forcing them to flee.
Meanwhile, Desmond’s forces seized the moment when Vanessa’s focus wavered and unleashed a barrage of spells toward the Fenris troops.
Vanessa quickly turned, dispelling the incoming magic, but a few low-circle spells still made it through, striking the Fenris soldiers.
The armor protected them from serious harm, but if this continued, it would become a significant problem.
“Tsk!”
Vanessa retaliated with a wide-area attack spell, targeting Desmond’s formation.
She didn’t expect it to succeed—Desmond also had a 6th-circle mage in their ranks—but her intent was to draw their attention. Knowing it was a futile move, she still poured her mana into the spell.
Cough!
Vanessa began coughing up blood, not just from her nose but also from her mouth. Yet, she gritted her teeth and endured.
During this time, the hunters pounced on the cavalry who had hesitated behind the earth wall. The cavalry, unable to retreat in time, were dragged into close-quarters combat with the hunters.
This chaotic melee heavily favored the hunters, who were far more accustomed to disorganized skirmishes.
Boom! Boom!
“Die, you bastards!”
The hunters shouted as they tore through the cavalry, their battlefield experience turning the tide in their favor.
“Grrrk!”
The cavalry, perched atop their horses, struggled desperately against the hunters, but their restricted movements made it impossible to hold their ground for long.
The hunters, working in coordinated teams, swung their enchanted blades relentlessly, pressuring the cavalry.
“Ha ha ha! I’m the strongest!”
Among them, the most exceptional fighter was, without a doubt, Kaor. Reveling in his newfound strength, Kaor cut down the cavalry with wild abandon, as if showing off his improved skills.
“Damn it! Who the hell is this guy?”
“Wasn’t the main force supposed to charge elsewhere?”
“Kill him first!”
Kaor, seeing the enemies converging on him, grinned with satisfaction.
“Ho, so they’re coming at me to stop me? Fine, bring it on!”
The more attention Kaor drew, the fewer cavalry managed to break through to the other areas. This made it significantly easier for the rest of the hunters to fight.
Among the hunters, a young man who looked barely past his teenage years slashed at the legs of a horse. As the horse collapsed, he immediately raised his sword and struck down the rider.
Thud!
A clean, precise strike. This was Arel, who had followed Ghislain to Fenris’s territory after being saved by him.
“Huff....”
Arel took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his sword. He was still a novice, having only gone through basic training, so he wasn’t qualified to join the cavalry. Instead, he was assigned to Kaor, tasked with protecting the mages.
Driven by a desire to grow stronger, Arel had poured himself into building stamina and training tirelessly. Though he still had much to learn, his resolve to protect the territory was second to none.
‘I won’t let that happen again.’
His home had been ravaged by barbarians, leaving many dead and his village destroyed. He never wanted to experience that loss again.
His younger sibling, gifted with a sharp mind, was now studying administrative work. Fenris had become their second home—a place Arel was determined to defend.
“Hyup!”
Without pausing, Arel swung his sword again. His muscles felt stiff, and he was already exhausted, but he didn’t lose focus. Precision in every strike, no matter the situation—this was the first thing Ghislain had taught him.
Kaor, observing Arel’s clean and deliberate movements, stroked his chin in amusement.
“Well, well... not bad for a greenhorn. He reminds me of myself back in the day—training hard and all that.”
That never happened. At Arel’s age, Kaor had been more interested in drinking and partying than in training.
Even as Kaor chuckled at his own embellishments, the hunters steadily reduced the cavalry’s numbers. Thanks to their efforts, Desmond’s cavalry couldn’t reach the mages. The surviving cavalry scattered, retreating either to regroup elsewhere or to flee the battlefield entirely.
When some of the hunters began chasing the retreating cavalry, Kaor shouted,
“Don’t chase them! I said don’t chase them, you idiots!”
Snapped out of their frenzy, the hunters regrouped and formed a defensive perimeter around the mages. Once the situation had calmed down, Kaor approached Arel.
“Hey, rookie. Not bad out there.”
“Thank you, sir!”
“You saw me fighting, right? What’d you think?”
“You were amazing!”
To Arel, Kaor was undeniably impressive. Cutting down dozens of cavalry single-handedly was no small feat, and it was something Arel couldn’t help but admire.
Kaor, grinning smugly, pressed further.
“So, between me and the old man, who do you think is stronger?”
“...Uh....”
Arel hesitated, glancing away awkwardly. Kaor leaned closer, following his gaze, and asked again,
“Who do you think is stronger?”
Arel turned his head in the opposite direction, only for Kaor’s face to follow him again.
“Who?”
This was childish. Painfully childish. But Arel couldn’t avoid answering forever. With a resigned sigh, he finally gave in.
“...I think Kaor, sir, is stronger.”
Kaor beamed triumphantly, looking as though he’d just conquered the battlefield single-handedly.
“Ha ha ha! Right? The old man is already being carried to the rear because he’s injured! That’s how the weak end up. Ha ha ha!”
Gillian and the injured had long since withdrawn from the battlefield. They were likely receiving treatment from Fiote and the attendants at a temporary encampment far from the chaos.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Emerson, who had been pursuing Fenris’s cavalry archers, cast a glance toward the now-quiet rear of their formation and frowned.
“Did it fail?”
He had briefly hoped for success when magic from his side rained down upon Fenris, but it seemed it had merely distracted them for a moment.
A Decision to Make
‘What do I do now?’
Should he continue pursuing the cavalry archers or turn his attention to the mages?
After a brief hesitation, Emerson refocused on the fleeing cavalry archers. Despite evading his troops, they continued raining arrows down on the Desmond forces fighting elsewhere, taunting and harassing them mercilessly.
This unit was perfectly designed to frustrate their enemies. If they weren’t dealt with, the Desmond army would remain at a disadvantage.
But...
‘The mages have to be dealt with first.’
Even with Willow, a 6th-circle mage, in their ranks, Desmond’s forces were being overwhelmed because the mages were forced into a defensive role.
If Fenris’s mages were eliminated, the tide of the battle would shift immediately. After all, the presence of mages was one of the main reasons cavalry archers had become a rare unit.
There was no point in continuing to chase the cavalry archers when the mages were the true priority.
However, Emerson knew he couldn’t simply abandon the cavalry archers. If he let them go unchecked, they would regroup and support Fenris’s central forces. For now, he had to push them as far away as possible.
“Push harder!”
Emerson urged his troops forward, but the cavalry archers moved too quickly to be cornered effectively.
Despite wearing full-body armor, their speed was astonishing. Their horses, seemingly bred for endurance and strength, moved with relentless energy.
The cavalry archers didn’t engage in direct combat either. They simply fired arrows while retreating, forcing Emerson to predict their movements and herd them in the desired direction.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
‘Just a little more!’
Relying on his years of experience, Emerson adjusted their pursuit, steadily closing the gap between his cavalry and the Fenris archers.
As a seasoned cavalry commander, he meticulously analyzed their movements and finally began catching up.
At the very back of the retreating cavalry archers, Ascon kept glancing behind him, yelling frantically.
“Hey, damn it! Run faster! I’m going to die here!”
The enemy was closing in at an alarming pace, but Ascon’s horse seemed oddly sluggish compared to the others. It barely kept pace, trotting as if it were out for a casual stroll.
Falling further behind the group, he was now completely separated from the main formation.
“You piece of crap! Move! Damn it, MOVE!”
No matter how much he cursed, the horse didn’t pick up speed. If this continued, he would be the first to die.
Gritting his teeth, Ascon finally drew his bow.
“If I take him out first, I should be fine!”
He turned and spotted the leading enemy commander charging toward him.
Unlike Fenris’s heavily armored cavalry, Desmond’s cavalry wore chainmail and helmets with small slits for vision. If he could hit that small opening, he could take down the commander instantly.
Elves were unparalleled in archery. By attuning to nature’s energy, they could hit even the smallest of targets.
Creak...
Ascon nocked an arrow and drew his bowstring, his focus unshaken despite his body swaying with the horse’s movements.
To an elf, the wind itself was a guide. He could feel it, sense it, and trust it to carry his arrow.
This precision was a skill only elves could master. While it took longer to aim, the result was always a devastating blow.
‘The wind speaks.’
His senses sharpened, and his body told him it was the right moment. If he released the arrow now, it would pierce the commander’s face.
‘Ride the wind.’
Twang!
Emerson, chasing closely behind, caught the glint of the arrow and instantly raised his shield.
Clang!
Whoosh!
The arrow soared high into the sky, riding the wind before disappearing into the distance.
“Damn it, of course it didn’t work,” muttered Ascon.
Snort!
Meanwhile, Ascon’s horse, still trotting leisurely, seemed oddly amused, baring its teeth in what looked like a grin.
Emerson, who had seen the arrow vanish into the sky, twisted his face in rage.
“How dare they mock me like this!”
The insult was unbearable. There was no way a cavalry archer could be that terrible a shot.
The slow pace of the fleeing archer and the deliberate miss—it was clear this was a taunt aimed at him.
Ascon’s actions seemed to say, “Come on, if you can catch me, try it.”
In the midst of this desperate war, the fact that someone dared to provoke him like this was infuriating.
Emerson ground his teeth, muttering,
“I’ll kill him myself.”
The battlefield burned hotter with each passing moment. Both sides pushed themselves to the limit, trying to break the other, but neither had landed a decisive blow.
Fenris’s forces were skilled individually but too few in number. Desmond’s forces had overwhelming numbers but lacked the coordination to seize control.
Both armies aimed to turn the tide by taking out the other side’s mages.
However, the longer the battle dragged on, the worse it was for Fenris. Even now, they weren’t exactly in a winning position. Without Ghislain’s efforts, the battle might already have swung in Desmond’s favor.
Boom! Crash!
Ghislain, with his spear flashing and his crimson eyes glowing, was a force of nature. Desmond’s heavy infantry, swarming endlessly, couldn’t block his attacks and were thrown aside like ragdolls.
Shields and armor shattered as corpses piled up. Spears flew from every direction, aiming for gaps in his defenses, but Ghislain repelled them all.
“Aaaargh! This monster!”
“Knights! Stop him immediately!”
“Block him! He’s heading for Willow!”
Despite the shouts coming from every direction, no one could stop Ghislain as he steadily advanced.
Encircling him was out of the question. The knights and soldiers of Fenris followed closely behind, forming an impenetrable defense as they fought fiercely to protect their leader.
Thud, thud, thud!
Ghislain began to feel the strain on his body. The closer he got to the mages, the more elite knights and stubborn soldiers he had to fight off.
‘Just a little further.’
Only a few more lines of defense remained. A few more breakthroughs, and he could strike at the mages.
Crash! Boom!
Wherever Ghislain and his black steed advanced, enemies were flung aside, clearing a path. The two cut a terrifying figure, dominating the battlefield like demons of war.
As Desmond’s defensive lines crumbled, a loud roar erupted from the side.
“Make way!”
Slash!
The soldiers engaging Ghislain quickly retreated, creating an open path.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
In their place, a group of knights clad in shining silver armor charged forward on horseback. They wielded halberds with axe-like blades gleaming under the sun.
At the head of the formation rode Reynos, his voice booming across the battlefield:
“Kill the Count of Fenris!”
The Royal Guard of Desmond—their finest and most elite knights—had arrived, and they were all focused on one target: Ghislain.
