Reincarnation of the magicless Pinoy
From zero to hero
"No magic?,No Problem!"
Encounter 27 : The Price Of Victory!
The night bled fire on the horizon.
Marcellus reined his destrier to a halt atop a ridge, his men pulling up behind him. Where the forests thinned, they saw it—the Elroy Dukedom's walls, half-wreathed in smoke, their towers coughing flame into the sky. The ground itself seemed to shudder beneath distant roars, the kind only a monster of legend could give voice to.
One knight whispered, voice trembling despite himself, "By the gods… what manner of beast is that?"
Marcellus said nothing, his scarred jaw set like stone. He had seen dragons, seen men split apart by things that defied reason—but even from here, Ravokar's molten silhouette was something else. Each time the giant moved, the walls shook, and the sparks of magic flickering around it marked the desperate counterattacks of those still alive within.
The smell of ash already reached them, thick and bitter on the wind.
"We're too late," one of the younger men murmured, despair creeping in.
Marcellus turned on him, voice sharp as a blade. "No. Not while men still stand on those walls. Not while Duke Elroy breathes. And not while Edric's son bleeds to hold them up."
The knights straightened, their faces pale but their spines stiffening at his words.
Marcellus lifted his sword, the firelight catching its edge, turning it into a streak of dawn against the night. His voice carried over the thunder of the distant battle.
"Remember why we ride! Not for glory. Not for songs. We ride because we are the shield that does not break, the sword that does not falter. The line between this kingdom and the abyss!"
A roar split the sky—Ravokar again, its molten body outlined against the flames as it swung its colossal arms down on the dukedom's wall. The stone cracked, dust and men alike spilling into the night.
Marcellus spurred his horse forward, steel flashing. "With me! Ride to Elroy's walls! Break the beast or die with honor upon the stones!"
The thunder of hooves answered him, two dozen knights charging into the darkness like falling stars, torches streaming, their armor ringing like war drums. The earth shook beneath their passage, but none wavered.
Above the inferno, the cries of men and monsters mingled, a chorus of despair.
And into that song, Marcellus and his knights rode—straight into the maw of Ravokar's wrath.
Ravokar's roar split the night as its molten arm came crashing down. The giant's claws blazed like burning pillars, its shadow swallowing the wall where Elian stood.
Elian's chest heaved, sweat and blood dripping from his brow. His magic reserves were stretched thin, his limbs screaming from the strain of channeling so much at once. Still, he raised his blade, layers of enchanted force shimmering faintly around him.
But he knew. This strike was different. This one would crush him.
"Damn it—!" he hissed, bracing.
The air warped as the colossal limb descended.
A thunderclap rang out. Sparks erupted like stars across the wall.
Steel met molten flesh.
Elian staggered back, eyes wide. Between him and death stood a wall of iron will and scarred steel—Sir Marcellus, his greatsword locked against Ravokar's burning claws. The impact split the stone beneath his boots, but the knight did not yield.
"On your feet, boy!" Marcellus barked, his voice carrying like a war horn. "Your father would spit on me if I let you die to this overgrown slag heap!"
The giant bellowed, molten cracks across its body glowing brighter with rage. It pressed harder, claws grinding against Marcellus' blade. The knight's arms shook, veins standing out, but his stance held firm—an immovable pillar against impossible weight.
Behind him, his knights surged onto the wall, shields locking, blades flashing as they carved into the tide of lesser beasts swarming around Ravokar's advance.
Elian's shock lasted only a heartbeat. His hand tightened around his sword, fire rekindling in his chest. He pushed back to his feet, magic flaring once more along the edge of his blade.
"Sir Marcellus…" he muttered, voice low but fierce. "Then let's bring this bastard down together."
Marcellus grinned through gritted teeth, the firelight painting his scarred face like a demon's mask.
"That's more like it."
He shoved against Ravokar's claw with a roar, forcing the monster back half a step. Stone shattered around them.
"Now, Grey! Strike while it reels!"
The battle for Elroy's walls had turned, and for the first time that night, hope sparked amidst the fire and ash.
Ravokar's roar shook the ground, the massive giant's eyes glowing with malevolent red light. His spiked club swung down again, ripping through earth and stone, leaving a crater where Elian had been just seconds before. The young heir of House Grey staggered back, his breathing sharp and uneven, sweat dripping down his forehead. He raised his hand to conjure another shield, but his mana was running thin—the shimmering barrier flickered, unstable.
The giant's shadow loomed over him, Ravokar sneering as the club arced downward.
Elian braced himself—too slow this time.
CLANG!
Sparks scattered like fireflies in the night. A greatsword, broad and gleaming with a faint golden aura, had intercepted the crushing blow.
"Not on my watch, boy!" Sir Marcellus' booming voice thundered.
The knight commander stood tall, armor battered but unyielding, his shield raised to catch the next strike. The sheer force of Ravokar's attack drove Marcellus a step back, boots grinding against the dirt, but he held firm.
"Sir Marcellus!" Elian gasped, relief washing over him.
Marcellus didn't take his eyes off the giant. "You fight well, but recklessly. Keep your distance when your mana falters, boy. Leave the brunt to me."
Duke Elroy, blood streaking his cheek, seized the opening. "Don't waste his cover, Elian! Focus your magic—we strike together!"
Ravokar bellowed with laughter, his voice echoing like thunder across the battlefield. "More gnats for me to crush! Do you think adding one knight changes your fate? You cannot kill a general of the Demon King!"
He lifted his foot, stomping down with the weight of a falling boulder. Marcellus raised his shield, his arm trembling as cracks spidered across the ground around them.
"NOW, Elian!" Elroy shouted, his blade igniting with searing flame.
Elian thrust out his hand, chanting fast, words spilling in rhythm. Magic circles overlapped, brighter and denser than before. He could feel his veins burn, mana surging wildly through him—his kigen blazing like molten fire.
A column of light erupted from his palms, striking Ravokar's chest. At the same time, Elroy's flaming sword carved upward, leaving a trail of blazing red as it slashed across the giant's thigh.
The giant staggered, snarling, blood the color of molten tar spilling onto the earth. For the first time, he flinched.
But Ravokar only grinned wider.
"Better… much better," the giant growled, his voice low and rumbling. "At least I won't grow bored while killing you."
With one motion, he ripped a jagged piece of stone from the ground, his massive hand crushing it into a makeshift weapon. His club in one hand, the stone axe in the other, Ravokar's power doubled—his attacks now a whirlwind of destruction.
Marcellus tightened his stance. "Stay sharp. He's only just begun to show his real strength."
Elian's breath hitched. The earlier relief drained from him, replaced with grim determination.
Duke Elroy raised his sword, glancing briefly at both allies. "Then we match him strike for strike. If he won't fall easily—" His eyes narrowed. "—we'll just have to carve him down piece by piece."
The night lit up again as their clash resumed, the three warriors circling Ravokar like wolves around a wounded beast—only this beast was far from dying.
The ground quaked as Ravokar slammed both weapons into the earth, the impact sending shockwaves rippling outward. Trees splintered, stone cracked, and Elian was thrown off his feet, skidding across the dirt. His ribs screamed with pain as he forced himself back up, coughing blood.
Marcellus, shield raised, had planted himself between the young heir and the giant. His arms shook under the relentless vibration, but he stood unbroken. "Get up, Elian! We can't afford hesitation!"
Elian clenched his teeth, dragging himself upright. His mana pulsed weakly—his vision blurred. He bit the inside of his cheek until blood filled his mouth, the sting snapping his focus back.
Duke Elroy charged, sword blazing like a comet. He swung upward, sparks showering as steel met Ravokar's stone axe. The force rattled his bones, but he didn't yield. He pushed forward, channeling fire through his blade until the steel glowed white-hot.
Ravokar laughed, shoving him back with a monstrous kick that sent the duke crashing through a ruined wall.
"ELROY!" Marcellus barked, but there was no time—Ravokar's club came screaming down at him. The knight commander braced, shield raised, the blow shaking him to his core. His arm nearly buckled, his shoulder felt like it would rip from its socket.
"Damn… this monster…" Marcellus hissed.
Elian raised his trembling hands, chanting faster than his breath could keep up. Multiple circles layered into a complex array, glowing brighter with each word. His voice cracked, but he didn't stop.
Ravokar's eyes snapped toward him. "Hah! You again? I'll crush you first!"
The giant swung his club toward Elian—
"Not while I stand!" Marcellus roared, throwing himself into the strike. The impact split the earth beneath his boots, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. His shield groaned under the pressure, but it held.
"NOW, BOY!"
Elian finished the chant, thrusting both palms forward. A blinding lance of light shot out, piercing through the air like divine judgment. The beam slammed into Ravokar's shoulder, searing through flesh and boiling black blood into smoke.
The giant bellowed in rage, staggering back, his left arm twitching uselessly.
Duke Elroy burst from the rubble, his cloak aflame, eyes burning with fury. "Die where you stand, beast!"
He drove his sword straight into Ravokar's wounded shoulder, fire exploding outward in a burst that lit the night sky like dawn.
For a moment—the giant dropped to one knee.
The battlefield held its breath.
But then Ravokar's guttural laugh rumbled again. He rose, towering, even as flames licked his body. His right arm swung in a brutal backhand, smashing into Elroy and sending him sprawling like a broken doll.
"You gnats actually scratched me…" Ravokar's grin widened, teeth like jagged stone. "GOOD! That means I can finally stop holding back."
His body began to swell, muscle and bone twisting, dark aura spilling like smoke from every pore. His size grew, his form more monstrous—horns curling, his skin hardening into blackened stone.
Marcellus' grip on his sword tightened, his jaw set grimly.
"Elian… brace yourself," he muttered. "This just became a battle for survival."
The earth itself trembled as Ravokar lifted his massive club again, now shrouded in black fire.
The real fight had only begun.
The battlefield was lit in fire and ruin, the ground cracked into deep craters from Ravokar's rampage. Each breath burned in Elian's chest, his mana nearly exhausted, his body trembling on the edge of collapse. Marcellus stood battered, shield dented, armor shredded, yet unbowed. And Duke Elroy—his face was pale, but his grip on his sword was firm, his eyes sharp and unyielding.
Ravokar loomed above them, now a monstrous titan wreathed in black fire, horns spiraling outward, veins glowing crimson beneath stone-like skin. His laughter shook the air.
"Your resistance… amuses me. But this ends here!"
He raised both weapons overhead, black fire gathering like a storm.
Elian's eyes widened. "If he brings that down… the entire dukedom—!"
But before panic could claim him, Elroy stepped forward. His back straightened, his sword blazing with flames so bright it burned away the night. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Marcellus' eyes.
"You've fought bravely, old friend. But it's time someone paid the price."
Marcellus' face twisted in realization. "Elroy… no. Don't—"
Elroy cut him off with a firm voice, no hesitation. "If we all fall here, Elian dies too. And Edric's son must live."
He didn't wait for an answer.
Elroy surged forward, every last drop of mana igniting his blade until it roared like a sun. Ravokar's weapons came crashing down—Elroy met them head-on. The impact was deafening, a blinding clash of light and shadow. The ground split beneath his feet, fire and black flame colliding in a storm.
"Elian! Marcellus! NOW!" Elroy's voice thundered through the chaos.
Marcellus understood at once. He seized Elian by the shoulder. "Channel what you have left! Combine with me!"
Elian, teeth clenched, poured his last threads of mana into Marcellus' sword. The knight commander raised it high, and the steel blazed with a brilliance that matched Elroy's flames.
Together, they lunged.
Elroy roared, pushing Ravokar's weapons upward, straining against impossible weight. His bones cracked, blood gushed from his mouth, but he held—just long enough.
Marcellus and Elian struck in unison, their blade piercing through Ravokar's chest, driving deep until light exploded outward from within the giant.
Ravokar's roar shook the skies. His form writhed, black flames sputtering as cracks of light tore through him. With one final, ear-splitting bellow, his massive body crumbled, dissolving into ash and smoke that scattered into the night wind.
Silence fell.
Elian collapsed to one knee, panting, staring at the settling dust where Ravokar once stood. "We… we did it…"
But Marcellus' relief turned to horror as his gaze snapped back to Elroy.
The duke still stood, sword buried in the ground for support. His armor was shattered, his body trembling. He gave them a faint smile, tired but resolute.
"Elian… Marcellus…" he rasped. "Live. Protect what remains… of my people."
And with that, Duke Elroy's knees buckled. He fell forward, his body hitting the scorched earth with a heavy thud. The flame in his sword flickered once, then died.
"No—!" Elian's cry tore from his chest as he scrambled forward, shaking the duke's lifeless form. "Get up! Please, get up!"
But there was no answer.
Marcellus closed his eyes, lowering his head. His hand tightened into a fist. "…He bought us victory with his life."
Above them, the night sky cleared of smoke, revealing cold, silent stars. The battle was over. Ravokar was dead. But so too was the proud Duke of Elroy, who had chosen to burn out rather than bend.
And in that hollow quiet, Elian's grief ignited into something else—something colder, sharper. A resolve that one day, the demons would pay for every life they took.
To be continued....