General Alvaren couldn't believe what was happening. ?ot only did the Kingdom manage to cross over the bottomless ravine and enter the city, they were also pushing back the imperial soldiers despite the difference in numbers. The Empire had twice the number of soldiers. Why couldn't they push these bastards back?
As he was lost in his thoughts, a sword came slashing toward his direction, aiming at his neck. General Alvaren blocked the strike with the shaft of his glaive. He glared at the man in front of him.
General Alvaren found it annoying that this man, whose silver hair was long enough for him to be mistaken as a woman, was blocking his path.
Although the General was thrilled to fight strong opponents, he found it urgent to kill these pesky flies of the Kingdom first.
"You almost died before when we fought," spat General Alvaren.
"Kid, I don't want to be wasting my time fighting you. Scram."
Lui Marcus didn't flinch upon receiving the General's piercing glare. "What's this? I thought the General of the Empire wished to fight me one-on-one? You even went to Akash personally before to issue out a duel.
Did your mind change after you had your butt kicked by my little brother?"
Despite his stoic personality, Lui Marcus skillfully taunted his enemy. He chuckled, which further stoked the rage within General Alvaren.
Several arrows of lighting came pouring down from the sky. General Alvaren activated his glaive and all arrows within the range of the maginus immediately dissipated. Still, it wasn't enough to cover the entire fortress.
Several hundred lightning arrows selectively struck the imperial soldiers, as though having lives of their own.
General Alvaren immediately realized that the caster must have been that damnable Lark Marcus. Only a mage of his caliber could have pulled off such a feat.
He must also be the one responsible for their soldiers' abnormal strength. Shrewd fox. What did he do this time? thought the General.
General Alvaren would have loved to kill the Silver War God of the Kingdom, but he knew that it wouldn't be easy. And by the time he was done, thousands of imperial soldiers would have already perished by then.
With his decades of experience in the battlefield, he knew that the best way to tilt the tide of war was to for him to kill that magic caster. To kill Lark Marcus.
"I have no time for you, brat!" roared General Alvaren. "Five spears!"
"Yes, General!"
The Five Spears of the Alvaren Army immediately moved and surrounded Lui Marcus. They held pride for being the five strongest Magic Knights, their strength only below that of the General. They immediately understood their General's intentions and moved in to suppress Lui Marcus.
General Alvaren started moving toward the place where the magic caster—Lark—was located. He believed in his glaive and he knew that no matter how powerful a magician Lark was, he would be reduced to nothing but an above average swordsman once within range of his magic-nullifying artifact.
Without Lui Marcus blocking his path, General Alvaren started slaughtering the Kingdom's soldiers one after another, their bodies cut cleanly like rye bread. The cheap iron swords the Kingdom's soldiers were using couldn't even block a single strike from his glaive.
Several Blackstone Knights roared and shot toward General Alvaren. These guys seemed like immortal demons spawned from hell to the imperial soldiers, but to General Alvaren, they were nothing but mindless suits of armor.
General Alvaren poured mana into his glaive, and with an earth-shattering swing, struck the nearest Blackstone Knight, splitting its body in half. He sidestepped and dodged a strike from the next living suit of armor, and using his free hand, grabbed the bastard's helm and smashed it to the ground. He immediately followed through by stabbing the head with his glaive, severing the link connecting the armor to the monster's essence, killing the Blackstone Knight in the process.
Despite seeing their comrades succumbing to their deaths without much of a fight, the other Blackstone Knights still continued their charge.
They knew that this old man was their master's archnemesis. A target they needed to kill.
General Alvaren readily accepted the challenge. He continued massacring the Blackstone Knights left and right, not leaving them room to counterattack.
"It's been a while."
After killing over a dozen Blackstone Knights, a familiar voice was heard by the General. He looked back and saw an old man, his ashen hair neatly tied into a pony. ?nlike General Alvaren, who was muscular and could easily smash trees with his bare hands, the old man before him was thin, his arms almost twigs. He looked really fragile and had General Alvaren not known the old man's true identity, he would have not spared him a second glance.
"Alexander," said General Alvaren, clearly annoyed.
He would rather fight Lui Marcus and Lark together than have another battle with this old geezer. ?nlike those two, the Sword Saint didn't rely on magic to sharpen his sword. His every swing was done with pure skills alone, honed into perfection by swinging the blade tens of thousands of times each day for decades.
The Sword Saint looked at the bisected Blackstone Knights, who had been reduced to piles of cleanly cut armors.
"We need those living suits of armor to win this war," said the Sword Saint. "We can't have you killing all of them, right?"
General Alvaren glared. Although he won the last time he fought the Sword Saint, he nearly lost his life several times during that duel. With his body weakened by the wounds inflicted to him by Lark Marcus, he wasn't confident of winning a bout this time.
"Alexander," said General Alvaren. "Do you have no pride as a swordsman? Those living suits of armor! It should be impossible to grant life to inanimate things with necromancy alone! You've seen those abominations with your own eyes! It's definitely demonic magic! There's no other explanation otherwise! How could you, a Sword Saint, not condemn such an act!"
Alexander pulled out his sword and walked toward General Alvaren. As they stood right before each other, the difference in their size became very apparent. The oblivious would immediately think that the Sword Saint would be immediately ripped into shreds by his muscular opponent.
"Alvaren," said Alexander. His calm voice was a stark contrast to his opponent's. "I believe in my ability to judge people."
"Ability to judge people?" General Alvaren snorted. "I see you've gone senile, old man!"
Without warning, General Alvaren swung his glaive. The Sword Saint didn't block the attack but instead gently swept it to the side with his sword, sending it to the opposite direction. And using this split-second opportunity, the Sword Saint reversed his sword and swung it up, missing General Alvaren's face by a hair's breadth.
The two continued exchanging blows. If General Alvaren was the epitome of strength, the Sword Saint was the embodiment of finesse and calm. Like an elusive eel, the Sword Saint would dodge General Alvaren's strikes or redirect them at the last moment, before counterattacking at a blind spot. Over time, numerous wounds started appearing on General Alvaren's body. After being wounded by Lark in the previous fight, he could no longer catch up with the speed of Alexander's sword strikes.
?nable to contest with the Sword Saint with the sword, General Alvaren decided to gamble everything. He purposely left his right chest open, at the area next to the shoulder. The Sword Saint didn't miss this chance and using blinding speed, pierced the area with his sword.
General Alvaren endured the pain. He grabbed the sword with his barehand and gripped it tight, not willing to let go. He gripped his glaive, channeled mana into it, and swung it toward the Sword Saint.
?ow that his opponent was weaponless, General Alvaren was sure that his attack would hit the Sword Saint.
But it seemed that he severely underestimated his opponent.
The Sword Saint let go of his sword. He didn't attempt to dodge but instead used the back of his left hand and slapped the glaive to the side, redirecting the attack and making it miss him by a small margin. The Sword Saint leapt toward General Alvaren and using his right hand, pushed his sword deeper into the General's chest.
General Alvaren flinched and momentarily lost strength in his grip.
The Sword Saint didn't miss this chance to pull his sword out. He leapt back and created distance.
"Reckless," said the Sword Saint. He swung his sword in the air, removing the blood clinging to it.
General Alvaren gnashed his teeth. That technique worked when he fought Lark Marcus, but it seemed that such petty tricks wouldn't work against this old man.
"Again," said the Sword Saint.
And the two broke into a melee.
For several minutes, General Alvaren lost himself into a trance as he fought the Sword Saint in a duel. He knew that a single mistake would cost him his life. They continued exchanging blows, their speed incomparable to humans'.
"General Rizel has been slain! Lark Marcus of the Third Army has slain the Ghost of the Empire!"
A shout brought General Alvaren back to his senses. Thankfully, the Sword Saint was also stunned by this revelation, as he also momentarily froze.
The two distanced themselves with each other as they looked in the direction of the voice.
The air in the entire fortress became stale. ?o one could believe it.
Right now, the head of General Rizel—placed on the tip of a spear—was being paraded inside the fortress.
General Alvaren's eyes widened and shook. His entire body felt numb as he stared at the head of his comrade. General Rizel was cunning and the two of them often fought each other. But for General Alvaren, there was no one in this war more reliable than General Rizel.
"H-How?"
General Alvaren trembled. How could this happen? How could the Ghost of the Empire, who'd survived countless battlefields in the chaos-stricken Empire, succumb to his death in this foreign land? Denial slowly turned into grief, into regret, before eventually turning into rage. General Alvaren quivered in utter fury. His eyes turned bloodshot.
He roared, "Lark! Marcus! Where! Are! You? Come out!"
The entire city seemed to tremble from General Alvaren's shout.
Consumed by rage, General Alvaren didn't notice the sword coming his way. He looked down and saw Sword Saint Alexander's sword piercing his left chest, right at the heart.
"I'm sorry," whispered the Sword Saint. He twisted his sword, then pulled it back, then stabbed the General again. This time, at the stomach.
General Alvaren lost strength in his entire body. His vision blurred and he could no longer speak. Still, he looked at the direction where the head of General Rizel was supposedly located. He kept looking at his comrade's head, until his last dying breath.
*** After General Alvaren's death, the Five Spears, who'd managed to survive their bout with Lui Marcus, rallied the troops and organized a retreat. Despite their losses, the Magic Knights served as the rear guard and allowed thousands of imperial soldiers to escape.
Lark didn't let this chance slip by. Despite the cruelty, he kept firing spells one after another, killing the retreating Imperial Army from afar. The Coalition Army, led by the Baron, also chased after the retreating enemy.
The balloons were also deployed and mana bombs rained down on the retreating imperial soldiers the moment they left Yorkshaire Fortress.
But with the help of the Five Spears, and by sacrificing the lives of over a hundred Magic Knights, the Imperial Army managed to escape and retreat through the mountains. They tried regrouping in the garrisons stationed there, but to their horror, they found themselves surrounded by Yorkshaire soldiers.
Despite being fewer in number, the Yorkshaire soldiers moved through the steep mountain as though it was flatland. Losing their two generals left the imperial soldiers feeling powerless, and coupled with the unfamiliar and dangerous terrain of Yorkshaire Mountain, they couldn't even put up a proper fight.
The Five Spears did their best to lead the defeated army, but the Yorkshaire soldiers kept chasing them through the mountain as though possessed by demons. By the time they'd reached the border of the Empire, the sixty thousand-strong Imperial Army had been reduced to only ten thousand.
A devastating defeat.
That day, the shocking news of the Empire's defeat, the deaths of the Magic Slayer and the Ghost of the Empire, spread throughout the Empire like wildfire.