Dragon's Breath kept gathering inside that great maw filled with sharp fangs, like power compressed to its absolute limit, waiting only for the right moment to erupt like a volcano.
Yet at that critical instant, Nolan suddenly raised a hand. His voice was low, but it cut clearly through the chaos of the battlefield.
"Your enemies are down there!"
Smoke billowed across the field, and the stench of blood filled the air. The brutal battle raged on.
Radahn took a deep, heavy breath. His gaze swept over the scene before him, and an indescribable helplessness rose in his heart.
The outcome of this war already seemed destined to be anything but good.
The enemy's strength had far exceeded his expectations. Even if the Redmane army won this battle in the end, would they still have enough strength left to attack mighty Leyndell?
But by now, it was too late to stop the war.
His hands were already stained with blood. On this battlefield that looked righteous on the surface yet was steeped in bloodshed, everyone caught within it would inevitably be dyed red.
Radahn slowly turned his head and looked down at Ogha, who was gazing up at him.
That man, who had always been fearless, now wore a rare grave expression.
Even a hero who had once been so proud had no choice but to acknowledge the enemy's strength.
The man and dragon dived down, swift as a gale, their momentum vast and terrifying.
Behind them came even more people and dragons.
Those knights in red and black armor radiated killing intent fierce enough to shake heaven and earth.
The Flying Dragons opened their bloody maws and spewed roaring flames into the sea of people below, instantly turning the battlefield into a sea of fire.
Suddenly, a crisp, ringing sound of hooves echoed between heaven and earth, as if the whole world trembled with it.
Radahn's heart tightened, and he immediately looked back in alarm.
In the vast sky, aside from himself, only one other person was still riding a warhorse.
The sound of hooves was unusually clear, slow and heavy. Every step seemed to shake both earth and sky, giving the illusion that the horse itself stood between them.
The dust and smoke raised by the fierce clash of their swords was swept away by a sudden violent wind.
Nolan, who should have been standing where he was, had vanished like a ghost without a trace.
And there before Radahn stood that Lord in gold and silver armor.
The Lord's warhorse was just as imposing, facing the Demigod without the slightest fear.
"Don't get distracted," Nolan said softly.
Before his voice had faded, the Promised Claymore in his hand swung out, aimed straight at Radahn's head.
Radahn had led his army into Limgrave with an unstoppable, crushing momentum.
Naturally, he knew that against such a powerful offensive, the enemy would not simply sit still and await death. They were bound to strike back fiercely.
He simply had never imagined that the counterattack would be so astonishing. It truly caught him off guard.
But he did not look like a panicked commander. He looked more like a Warrior, wrapped in the aura of a fight to the death, the lion on his armor seeming to grant him endless courage.
He was a Lord who knew no fear. Nolan was certain that even before danger far beyond imagination, this Lord of Warriors would not retreat a single step.
Radahn raised his black iron greatsword without hesitation and charged straight at Nolan.
In an instant, the sky that had only just gone quiet rippled like a disturbed lake, the entire space trembling with his movement.
The cold gleam of the Promised Claymore hung above his head and came down with tremendous force, yet it could go no farther.
Radahn crossed the twin greatswords in his hands together. Like an unbreakable wall of steel, the two blades forcefully stopped Nolan's fatal strike.
That was the only reason his head remained safely on his shoulders.
Nolan was very strong, but in the end, he did not surpass Radahn by much.
Suddenly, Radahn retreated like a bolt of purple lightning, his speed astonishing.
His figure blurred in that high-speed flash, leaving only a long purple afterimage that lingered in the air like the final note of a beautiful movement.
Immediately after, the Dark Moon Greatsword in Nolan's hand traced an icy, razor-sharp arc like the cold moon in the night sky.
The sword arc stretched hundreds of meters long, carrying unmatched force as it slashed horizontally toward Radahn.
In that instant, Radahn's body seemed to be hurled away by an invisible giant hand. He crossed hundreds of meters in a flash and narrowly avoided the fatal strike.
At the same time, Nolan leapt lightly, like a butterfly in flight.
More precisely, Torrent made the leap, and Gravity carried him a hundred meters away, like a flying insect leaving a flower branch where it had rested for a long time.
When the twin edges of the black iron greatswords collided with the Promised Claymore and the Dark Moon Greatsword, the immense force blasted Radahn back dozens of meters.
His footing faltered, and his body swayed slightly. He had clearly taken a heavy impact.
Bad.
The thought flashed through Radahn's mind for an instant.
He knew very well that in technique alone, he might be slightly inferior to Malenia. But in close combat, he did not fear that younger sister of his, because he was stronger.
Everyone knew Malenia's body was damaged. How much strength could anyone expect from such a damaged body?
No matter how skillfully she used her prosthetic limb, it could never compare to the flesh of a Demigod.
A lifeless dead object could not adjust its force as flexibly as real muscle, and every movement would become much harder to execute.
Radahn tightened his grip on his greatsword, and a layer of purple light rose over the blade.
He took a deep breath, adjusted his stance, and prepared to seize that fleeting opening the instant Nolan charged, then deliver a fatal blow.
But just then, a golden gale rushed toward him, cleaving straight for Radahn's chest.
Nolan had swung the Promised Claymore during his charge, the Lord's Sacred Blade, capable of cutting through the peak of a mountain a hundred meters high. Even a monster like a Demigod could not ignore it.
This time, Radahn had no chance to dodge.
But as that golden blade rushed toward Radahn at astonishing speed, the moment it neared him, its speed suddenly became unbearably slow, as if some invisible power had seized it.
It seemed an unseen purple light was dragging at the blade of light. Gravity Sorcery alone clearly could not stop the strike, but it bought Radahn enough time.
At last, the blade of light slammed violently into the black iron greatsword in Radahn's hand, releasing a boom like a great bell.
The collision was not as fierce as people might have imagined. Without stopping for even a moment, Radahn was sent flying.
No, the Sacred Blade had not yet dispersed. Rather than being knocked away, Radahn seemed to be carried off by the blade of light itself.
The distance between them opened once again.
***
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
[email protected]/PinkSnake (50 Chapters Ahead).
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.
***