Book 2 - Chapter 144

Chapter 144

Life and Death As One(3)

Waterflower’s eyes lightly twitched, and she allowed Flowsand to take her away. The blow from Sinclair’s blade had a lot of negative energy on it, and although she was stubbornly resisting it all to stand there a mere puff of wind would knock her to the ground…

With the fear of death having passed, Sinclair’s hysteria gradually faded away. She could still kill normal soldiers with ease, making her feel like her injuries weren’t nearly as bad as she thought they were. At the very least, there was still a chance of survival.

She finally chose to retreat, dodging a strike from Gangdor before rushing towards the castle walls. A few other soldiers dropped dead on the way, with none the wiser as to how she had done it.

Before she managed to get away, Richard cast a profound glance her way. His gaze was clear and unperturbed, but nobody could comprehend the intent behind it. For some reason, the Schumpeter girl felt a strange chill permeating her heart, damping her rage and frustration. The experience of countless fights told her that some people didn’t bellow and rage against their opponents.

When she finally reached the walls, Sinclair stopped and turned around, holding her daggers up as she cast a menacing death glare at everyone nearby. The bearguard knights were already down below, and the guards at the main gate weren’t competent enough to hold them off. She would wait here until her soldiers scaled the walls, giving them the opportunity to kill everyone in the castle.

Fontaine and Waterflower had already lost all of their strength, no longer posing a threat. Richard’s earlier display of skill came as a surprise, but thinking it over rationally she could tell that it was nothing more than a desperate fight for his life. She wouldn’t even need to face the mage directly; she could wait in a corner until he drained all of his energy.

However, Richard’s cold voice sounded from the distance, “You’re trying to delay for time? Not so fast!”

Richard took out the Book of Holding once more, and two more warriors of darkness stepped out to surround Sinclair. With the limited space on the battlements, these warriors who had immense strength and a lack of fear for their lives were boosted greatly. They waved heavy axes against their opponent, tiring her out as she was forced to block again and again.

Another warrior of darkness quickly appeared as well, this time summoned at the ground in front of her position. This had been Richard’s directive, forcing the two bearguard knights who wanted to scale the wall there to fight it first. The warrior wouldn’t last long in a 1 vs 2 battle, but all it needed to do was stall for time and put Sinclair in even more danger.

Sinclair held another heart in her hands. Although she would normally feel like this heart was unpalatable, she wolfed it down in a few bites without hesitation. However, she didn’t manage to absorb the energy within, instead coughing violently as black blood spurted out of her mouth. The rune on her left breast started leaking blood as well.

Some of the bearguard knights had finished scaling the wall by this point, but they were faced with countless pikes and heavy axes, fighting warriors skilled in both offence and defence. Every swing of their axes reaped a few lives, but they suffered several injuries each time as well. The baron’s elites, Richard’s knights, and the barbarian warriors were all capable of causing damage, and surrounded as they were the bearguard knights couldn’t hide themselves. Defence wasn’t the bearguard forte either— a knight off his horse lost half of his manoeuvrability.

Zendrall was hidden in the darkness, summoning warriors of darkness one after the other. With how chaotic the battle had become, these level 12 undead creatures could make full use of their might.

Richard was constantly moving his forces to resist the bearguard knights, at the same time keeping an eye on Sinclair atop the walls. Even though she was constantly digging out hearts and consuming them, her injuries showed no signs of recovery. In fact, it seemed as though some force was interfering with her rune, making things worse every time she absorbed energy. She was stubbornly trying to fend off her attackers, waiting for the knights below to finish off the warrior of darkness and scale the walls.

Richard had to grit his teeth to fight the weakness from using Eruption. He was handing out spells like water, trying to weaken the bearguard knights and buff his own warriors. The entire battle seemed like a complex alchemic machine, constantly moving the way he envisioned thing.

There was a desperate battle at the side of every bearguard knight. He watched as the troll brothers dragged one each and leapt off the walls, crashing down together. The impact of the fall left both parties unable to get up, but the bearguard knights suffered far more damage under the combined weight. Without the remarkable regeneration that the trolls boasted of, they would not get up again. The trolls would eventually continue battling, but they would turn into armoured corpses.

On another side of the battlefield, three barbarian warriors armed with spears had pierced into a knight’s body from three directions. Desert warriors and Fontaine’s troops moved in from behind, jabbing through the crevices in the knight’s armour continuously. The knight managed to remain standing despite being pierced everywhere, roaring as he waved his fists and knocked down the enemies nearby. A knight suddenly leapt up and waved the large two-handed sword in his hand, slashing half the bearguard knight’s neck off. The fellow roared in pain, grabbing the knight’s legs in his dying moments and ripping him in two mid-air. Only after that did he slowly collapse.

Blood was flowing everywhere.

At that thought, Richard’s gaze inadvertently swept back to Sinclair. Her charming face was stained with black blood, the broken rune on her chest also gushing reddish-black liquid. He felt a strong sense of disgust, a natural loathing that seemed to come from his elven blood. This was no illusion, instead true antagonism between two polar opposites.

Irked by the black blood, Richard’s own silvermoon blood grew exceedingly powerful. It started boiling with energy, as though urging him into battle. Richard muttered to himself as several thoughts flashed through his mind, eventually deciding on something inconceivable.

He estimated the distance between himself and Sinclair, suddenly stepping forward as a jade green moon appeared atop his head.

The third moon, the green moon. The corresponding secret sword was Devout Prayer, a skill that was equivalent to a cleric’s healing. The sword’s user could cast it upon themselves, or cast it on the sword’s target. This was Richard’s first successful attempt at using this skill, jade green light slowly radiating from his body. Mosses started to grow on the floor below him, forming a sheet of green..

Sinclair had no idea of what was happening at first, but her keen senses told her something very dangerous was happening. She instinctively tried to evade, her figure starting to fade into the night. However, the skill had already formed a beam of jade-green light that fell down on her position, giving off an aura of vitality that seemed to envelop the entire sky. Her figure grew visible once more.

This skill that would normally heal injured people caused the girl to scream!

The moonlight started to corrode Sinclair’s skin the moment it touched her, creating a large cloud of fog. It was as though she was being burned by the strongest of acids as the beam shone on her perfect skin, the exposed flesh from her wounds starting to melt. She shrieked and jumped off the castle walls, but the green moonlight refused to let her go, only fading away once all its energy was used up.

The manticore leapt out from the darkness, catching its mistress. It had already devoured twenty knights in the midst of this chaos, but that only slightly helped sate its empty stomach. The soul-reading had left it far too hungry, and alas there were too few powerful fighters on the battlefield.

Sinclair could barely manage to sit on the beast, her charming face charred beyond recognition by the moonlight. She had to use all her effort to avoid falling off the creature’s back.

She glared at Richard with immense loathing with a swollen red right eye, her left already blinded by the attack. She pointed a finger at him and hoarsely cried out, “Darling! Eat him, don’t leave a single bone! Remember to leave the heart for me! Take all his women with your tail, I’LL TORTURE THEM FOR TEN DAYS BEFORE KILLING THEM!”

The manticore let out a low roar, quickly getting up. However, it didn’t rush towards the top of the castle, instead turning its body around as it sent a threatening roar into the distant darkness.

Sinclair was astonished. This manticore was a creature she had reared from its youth, and it possessed human-like intellect. It was extremely rare for it to defy her orders.

She suddenly turned around, seeing Richard look at her with a determined gaze from atop the walls. He pointed towards her, before making an action of slashing his own throat.

The broodmother had finally entered the battlefield.