375. King’s Gate Battle (6)
Though the rear and flanks were struck hard, it didn’t mean they were surrounded. A siege typically involves a large force encircling a smaller one, and Phaeirn still held the majority.
Moreover, the forces on each frontline followed entirely different command structures, making elaborate encirclements or annihilation operations impossible. Thus, the battle naturally devolved into a protracted skirmish among scattered forces.
As the rear’s pilgrimage knights and the northerners on the flanks successfully raided and pushed Phaeirn’s main force back—
“Ah, damn it. Sir Albert. My apologies.”
“Pull yourself together. It’s not over yet.”
The enemy’s main force naturally began to press harder toward the ruined gateway of King’s Gate, surrounded by narrow paths.
Fernandez deflected flying swords and shields while glancing to the side. Vicente, having lost an arm, was bleeding beneath a half-shattered helmet.
-Clang!
No matter how skilled an individual is, personal valor rarely shines on the battlefield. No matter how highly trained a warrior, flesh cannot be harder than steel.
So, with each strike, the weapons found gaps in the armor, leaving wounds. The king’s armor deflected almost every attack, but the enemy’s numbers were overwhelming.
-Clang! Crunch!
“These… monsters!!”
Meanwhile, the soldiers’ faces grew pale. Whenever a warhammer or spear struck, the greatswords of the two knights would rise in response. The surroundings were already piled with corpses, forming small hills.
Even a falcon among crows or a wolf among sheep couldn’t match this. The soldiers’ morale was hitting rock bottom. Their blades wouldn’t pierce, and if they did, they were met with immediate retaliation.
-Thud!
A soldier’s head was cleaved by a dark greatsword, while another’s skull was crushed by a thick gauntlet. Amid the horrific sound of steel shattering, a sharp scream erupted.
“Gyaaah!!”
The sound of a person being crushed alive was more shocking than any sword or hammer strike. Fernandez exhaled hot breath beneath his helmet, swinging his arm to create chaos.
‘Not much longer.’
He took unavoidable hits with his body. He swung his fist at those targeting his greatsword’s openings and kicked those who got too close. Human bodies crumpled like straw. Over a hundred fell.
For one man to kill and hold off a hundred against a legion was already legendary. He glanced at Vicente. Unlike him, Vicente was writing the same legend with a human body.
Missing an arm, eyes wild, staggering yet reacting to every attack—it was chilling. But it wouldn’t last much longer.
“Your Majesty, are you still alive?”
“Speak.”
“I wish to apologize.”
“Your life on the line was apology enough. It’s done.”
The two swung their swords relentlessly, gasping for breath. While tracking enemies with their eyes and wielding weapons with their entire bodies, they exchanged words.
As if there would be no other chance.
“That’s not it, Your Majesty. I may have to make an unreasonable request, so I apologize in advance.”
“Unreasonable? More than this situation?”
“Yes.”
Fernandez skillfully dodged a spear while speaking. The soldier who thrust the spear was split in two the moment his attack missed. Blood sprayed as Fernandez’s gauntlet shot out, grabbing the next soldier’s head.
-Crunch!
The sickening sound of bones breaking made the soldiers hesitate. Fernandez exhaled sharply, glancing to the side. The king, missing an arm, was fighting twice as many enemies.
“Speak.”
So, the calmness in the king’s voice now was almost mythical bravado. Despite severe blood loss, injuries, and a long march leading to this life-and-death struggle, the king still fought with his entire being.
“I need ten minutes. I won’t leave the battle, but my focus may waver, burdening Your Majesty.”
“You’re asking me to protect you?”
“…To put it bluntly, yes.”
“I thought you’d ask to flee. I would’ve refused.”
-Whish!!
The king’s arm slashed through the air. Platinum hair spilled from his helmet, blazing like a mane, and his blood-soaked cloak rose again. Protective spells embedded in his armor began to glow with magic.
-Boom!!
A shockwave erupted following Vicente’s strike. It was a technique so close to magic that even seeing it, one couldn’t understand how it was done. Soldiers in front of Vicente were torn to pieces.
Some soldiers facing Vicente’s fierce eyes threw down their weapons and fled. More swallowed their fear and cautiously approached. Still, the enemy’s numbers were like a tidal wave.
Yet Vicente stood tall, tilting his head slightly and saying, “Protecting a vassal is a king’s duty. Stand behind me. I’ll protect you as long as I breathe.”
“It won’t take long, Your Majesty.”
“I won’t last much longer either. If you have something to do, hurry, but don’t rush into regrets.”
Fernandez couldn’t help but laugh at Vicente’s bravado. Back to back, they faced the enemy forces now fully surrounding them.
* * *
“They’re coming!! King’s Gate is breached… breached!”
“Ah, Father has fallen…”
“Is that what you mean? Let go of this! Your Majesty!”
“Your Majesty!! Your Majesty! Please calm down! If Your Majesty leaves this place, who can guarantee the safety of the people from the clutches of those villains!”
“Father, father!!”
Eric stood on the gallery of Altberth, shouting as he watched the enemy troops marching through the canyon below King’s Gate. The last thing he saw was his father’s back, standing alone before tens of thousands of enemy soldiers beneath the collapsed fortress of the canyon.
No one in this place could deny the king’s death. Of course, there was no hope of survival there. But that didn’t erase the sorrow of losing a father from a boy in his early teens.
It felt like the last thread holding Eric together had snapped. He collapsed on the wall, crying out loudly.
No one could blame him. He had already done his best. He had managed the refugees, held back the dense enemy troops, and kept his spirits up until the main force of Dane, led by his father, returned.
But now was not the time to be consumed by sorrow. The enemy’s numbers were still overwhelming, and the allied forces now consisted of only a small militia of about a hundred, along with tens of thousands of unarmed refugees—women, the elderly, and children.
“We are not dead yet.”
“Grandmother……!”
“Do not give up. I don’t know how many times I’ve said this today, but now more than ever. The two knights standing there still hold onto hope, and I share their sentiment. How can you so easily fall into despair when your king, knights, and dragon are singing of hope?”
Abel gently stroked Eric’s hair as she spoke softly. Her entire body was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages. The injuries she sustained in her dragon form still clawed at her insides.
It would take time for her to regain her dragon form, and in her current condition, breathing fire was difficult. But even in this state, she could still wield a sword, and as long as she held a weapon, she had no intention of giving up.
However, she couldn’t help but sigh deeply as she watched the two knights raging like a storm in the distance.
‘Just because I believe in you doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you, Fernandez.’
Her eyes were precise enough to pick out the two knights’ fight amidst the chaos. She read the flow of the battle and thought they still had enough stamina to continue.
‘One, do not worry about me and just believe. I will protect this castle until the very end with all my strength.’
At King’s Gate and Altberth, she was almost the only asymmetrical force on the city walls. Fernandez had sent her here for one reason only: to hold out for as long as possible with minimal damage.
So, she continued to do her best. Abel gripped her sword and looked at the advancing soldiers.
* * *
There aren’t many spells I can use. My magic circuits aren’t fully developed yet.
I don’t have enough magic power either. My circuits are already fraying from the excessive use in the recent magic battle.
However, this is different from the days when I couldn’t use magic at all. The output of Diemonica, the maximum potential a human body can have, still allows me to cast spells, which is nothing short of a miracle.
‘Lavirata, if I return, I will definitely repay you. I owe you a great debt.’
This isn’t just a revival. My soul has directly manifested the best body it remembers. In fact, my previous body didn’t perfectly match my soul. The Diemonica Baptism of the Holy Grail of St. Antonio was somewhat of a barbaric procedure.
-Kaaang!
A surge of magic power flowed roughly through my magic circuits. Drawing magic from nature, filtering it, and replacing the magical formation with a beastman to visualize the image. As I cast the first spell, Fernandez swung his sword with his other hand.
In the days when I used the Bronze Throne, my battles were closer to those of a ‘warrior who uses magic well.’ Magic was treated as a mere auxiliary weapon, and I was forced into simple combat relying on an overwhelmingly powerful body.
But now, my body has magic circuits. They are small, thin, and unimpressive, like those of a third-year novice mage or a shallow wildcast.
However, the gap between handling magic through relics and having magic circuits in my body is not simple. Now, I can be called a ‘mage who wields a sword well.’
And just as the king’s vision differs from the knight’s,
the warrior’s vision and the mage’s vision are also different.
-Fwoosh!
Sparks flew from the quickly drawn beastman. The condition of my magic circuits is below half, and considering the backlash my body can handle, great magic is out of the question, but this is enough for now. First, [Summon].
“Rise.”
The spell is a word, the beastman no more than a syllable, the required magic no more than a handful. From his short gesture, a crow made of the enemy’s blood stretched its wings and leapt into the sky.
For a moment, his head spun. The sensory disturbance from sharing vision with the summoned creature. But he had done this countless times in his past life. Fernandez skillfully adjusted his senses and continued to swing his sword.
Now the crow circled high above. This fulfilled at least one minimum condition. Real-time battlefield reconnaissance.
“Did you just cast a spell……?”
“One of my small tricks.”
“Did you need time to cast that spell?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
Fernandez smiled at the king, who was breathing heavily.
“From now on, I will need time to cast spells.”
Magic is not just the childish muddling of magic power to interfere with reality. As one of the highest mages, Fernandez could assert this. Magic is the totality of impossible things defined in words.
Even things that were impossible with the body that once held the divinity of Vaitas are now possible. Although the lack of magic power prevents me from handling great magic, and the arrival of the pilgrimage knights means I can’t summon dark magic.
As the head of Enthosary, the great school that gathered all the dark magic of the era and finally compiled it, he looked down at the battlefield through the crow’s eyes and thought.
Magic is not just a collection of magic power but the totality of impossible things, pulling concepts into reality.
And that was a deeply nostalgic feeling.
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