Chapter 888: Act 64 – A Message to Xi IV
The mountains rose amidst magical creatures, flying monsters sculpted from rocks, imbued with a sense of power. They had the heads of sheep and human bodies, with limbs that bore claws as strong as steel. Their wings spanned over seven meters, and their stone-like skin shimmered with a pale blue luster in the cold winter sunlight, covered in softly glowing magical runes. Two eerie green gems formed their eyes.
They were not the original gargoyles, but rather a type of rune golem—rune gargoyles. Brendel requested the gargoyles, and Tanyia, his capable aunt, brought him the best kind. As he mentioned, these creatures posed no threat to the Bud people, so the artisan wizards were happy to assist Brendel to the extent they could without crossing their bottom line, hoping he would help them reclaim the Azure Lance.
The Empire’s griffins soaring in the sky never anticipated they would one day face such a battle. A swarm of gargoyles was rising into the air from the towering mountains, quickly filling the skies above the peaks. The screams of these magical creatures rose and fell, coming from all directions, as if they were encircling the griffins. But the griffins let out a clear cry in unison, as if a proud instinct urged these fearless raptors to spread their snow-white wings and confront their enemies. This was the symbol of the Empire—they actively engaged an enemy that outnumbered them many times over, thrusting like straight silver lines into the dark clouds, but in an instant, they were scattered as wings fell and weapons were broken.
The soldiers of the Empire gazed in near-stupefaction at this scene, watching their once proud, fierce Empire’s raptors vanish in an instant. For a long while, a dry warning came from the lookout:
“It seems… gargoyles…”
Although there were still a hundred griffin knights standing by within the fortress, everyone felt as if their feet were rooted to the ground; no one could rush down from the battlements to warn others, for it was already too late.
The swarm of gargoyles loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon, swallowing the griffins, then flowing across half the sky like migrating birds. When they reached the fortress, the soldiers of the Empire were still dazed, gazing upward until the first stone crashed down from the sky, shattering the battlements, prompting them to scream in terror—disaster was upon them. Under pre-set commands, the gargoyles split into three as they entered the airspace above the fortress, forming three massive arrows pointing in different directions. The first arrow, composed of two hundred gargoyles, aimed directly at the city walls, while the second arrow of three hundred targeted the inner city. The largest arrow, made up of the remaining gargoyles, charged straight toward the headquarters of the Griffin Knights in the Black Sword Bastion, as if they had known that place all along.
When the Cruzian knights atop the city walls saw the two massive arrows streaking across without pause over the walls, they immediately understood.
Their faces turned pale; they realized this was undoubtedly a meticulously planned war.
The inner city was descending into chaos—
The soldiers who were not on duty in the fortress were being dragged from their quarters in the inner city— from various entertainment venues— from bars, brothels, or even lovers’ homes— or hurriedly appearing in twos and threes from the alleys, hastily donning battle gear, putting on helmets, and grabbing weapons, either cohesively or sporadically making their way toward the fortress to assemble. In the era of glorious return, or through the chaotic epochs, or even during the half-century around the Walnut Rebellion, you wouldn’t see such a scene; back then, even in the loosest times, over two-thirds of the soldiers in the Black Sword Bastion were always combat-ready.
But now, this fortress hadn’t experienced a war in nearly a century, and even Erluin’s bandits didn’t dare commit crimes within the empire’s domain; this prolonged idleness fostered an arrogance that led to a disregard for everything.
The soldiers of the Empire were gathering from all directions, and although they were insignificant compared to their predecessors, the last remnants of honor and discipline as soldiers of the Empire kept them from entirely descending into chaos. Overall, their reactions were still superior to those of the noble soldiers of Southern Erluin, and they were even comparable to Brendel’s experience with the Black Blade Legion and the Port Guard in Ampere Seale. These soldiers of Rozheriya, dressed in red and white uniforms, were being assembled under the urging of their trumpets, and they were on the verge of entering the fortress area.
At this moment, they collided head-on with the descending gargoyles.
“Look to the sky!”
No one knew who shouted first, but the bustling crowd of red and white gradually halted, looking up at the mass of black dots forming a giant arrow in the sky, then scattering and diving, as if in an instant, hundreds of gargoyles were plunging down.
“Gargoyles!”
“By Martha, the Bud people are launching a surprise attack on us!”
Initially, the crowd was astonished and bewildered, but then it turned into agitation and unease, soon retreating, and finally, with a piercing scream, the crowd erupted into a frenzy.
“Find cover quickly!”
“Those d*mn, cunning wizards!”
The Cruzian people screamed in panic, desperately searching for shelter, and at this moment, the quality of the Empire’s soldiers was evident. They didn’t flee like headless flies or panicked like those noble soldiers in Southern Erluin; once the Cruzian knights found eaves, low walls, stacked crates, or other temporary fortifications along the street, they immediately drew their weapons, preparing to hold their ground against the first wave of attacks from this unknown air force.
The Empire possessed over a millennium of military tradition; their enemies came from across the world, whether air or naval forces, magical beasts, or the undead. For this battle-hardened army with a deep-rooted tradition, nothing was truly surprising. Thus, after a brief turmoil, they quickly regained their composure and entered a combat-ready state under the orders of the nearby knight commander.
If Brendel were present to witness this scene, he would click his tongue in admiration, both at the strength of the Cruzian people and because it mirrored what he had seen in the Empire’s army.
After all, the Empire was the Empire; the Cruzian eagle soared not just through arrogance and pride.
But the tragedy of the Rozheriya soldiers stemmed from the same reason—Brendel had seen them before in another era.
Therefore, the soldiers quickly realized that the gargoyles’ dive was merely a feint; upon nearing the inner city, they immediately began to slow, landing on the rooftops of the densely packed buildings in the inner city. “What do they intend to do?!” the Cruzian knights stared in shock at the unfolding scene. Air forces, by definition, operate in the sky; if these gargoyles wanted to confront them directly on the ground, that was clearly impossible.
Their confusion was finally answered when they saw the first cloaked wizard, staff in hand, jump down from the back of a gargoyle.
“A wizard…”
Nearby street knights felt their teeth clench as they witnessed this, realizing immediately what the enemy intended to do.
As Mage Duncan jumped down from his gargoyle with his duck familiar, he was filled with pride upon seeing the astonished Cruzian knights. He turned to see that almost every rooftop nearby had three or four wizards ready, as if a wizard army was about to descend upon the inner city of the Black Sword Bastion at any moment. He turned back, just as the Cruzian knights began to recover from their state of shock, immediately directing the soldiers around him to charge up to the rooftops— even though they knew their enemies posed no real threat to them, he still couldn’t help but feel tense.
To have wizards on the front lines face to face with enemy soldiers was a bold move indeed.
Not to mention he had never even heard of such a tactic, let alone considered it; supposedly, wizards should stay as far from danger as possible.
But even while he was anxious, sweating in his palms, he raised his staff and began to chant spells at the crowded army of Cruzian soldiers below. The average strength of the Empire’s border knights was at least above the black iron level, and the low rooftops of the inner city were not much of an obstacle for them. In just a short moment, some Empire soldiers climbed atop the rooftops. Duncan saw one soldier closing in from just twenty feet away, close enough to see the fierce expression on his face and the glint of his sword, and he had a thousand wishes to unleash the prepared spell upon that guy. But at the last moment, he forcefully redirected his aim and raised his staff to cast a spell at the crowd of Empire soldiers below.
“Stasis, Delayed Law, Bind!”
Mage Duncan shouted, as if an invisible wall descended in the direction he pointed, causing air to lightly quake, and all the Empire soldiers on the street immediately stood frozen as if enchanted. Meanwhile, among the hundreds of wizards descending with the gargoyles, about a third completed similar control spells, another third failed due to nerves, and the remaining third impulsively cast spells at the nearest handful of soldiers.
Yet even this successful third was enough to ensnare nearly half of the streets of the inner city in an instant under the spell’s control.
After casting his spell, dripping with sweat, Duncan turned back only to see the soldier who had climbed up had been swatted down by a gargoyle. He sighed with relief, a sense of pride swelling within him—because he knew he was the first to cast spells under this tactic, and by that alone, he could shed his identity as an apprentice and step into the ranks of official wizards.
The inner city fell into a peculiar deathly silence, as if time had been frozen— the gathered Empire forces on the streets quickly lost any chance to retaliate under the wizards’ control. They had thought about fighting back, but exposed in such densely packed formations to magical strikes, the outcome was inevitable; nearly instantly, they suffered losses exceeding two-thirds of their numbers. Afterward, the wizards only needed to subdue the remaining stragglers. The Cruzian forces made sporadic attempts at ranged attacks, but they were nearly ineffective under the magical defenses, and the assault teams of Empire knights, protected by the hundreds of gargoyles under the wizards, also failed to achieve anything, becoming captives one by one.
Of course, the Empire also had wizards, but a handful of wizards stood no chance against a hundred gathered together, and after some scattered counterattacks, they soon realized the tide had turned; they either surrendered or sought a hiding place for self-preservation.
It seemed like in an instant, the Black Sword Bastion lost the majority of its reinforcements.
…
Maria, the commander of the Griffin Knights, stood silently before the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, watching the gargoyles in the sky depart, while on the other side of his vision, the headquarters of the Griffin Knights was already in shambles. This fortress, built about two centuries ago, tragically lacked upper protective works or magical defenses according to the standards of this era; the launch paths of the griffin enclosures were still exposed, adhering to the air force traditions of around two hundred years prior. Everyone was well aware that the enemy facing the Black Sword Bastion was the Erluin people, and their feeble dragon rider air force could pose no threat to this fortress.
However, this traditional mindset led to a near-catastrophic blow.
Maria still couldn’t comprehend where the hell those gargoyles had come from. He had been dispatching messengers to inquire about the loud noises from the city walls while simultaneously ordering some knights to prepare to take to the skies, but he had never expected the attack to come so swiftly. The first batch of warming-up griffin knights hadn’t managed to release their beloved griffins from their cages when the dark cloud in the sky had already flown over their heads. Everything that happened next felt like a nightmare; he had never before experienced such an attack.
The gargoyles began their dive, unleashing sparkling crystals, most of which hit the passage of the griffin enclosures, a small portion hitting the storage of the knights. What followed, as he now witnessed, was that the entire passage of the griffin enclosure had been utterly destroyed, approximately one hundred sixty griffins and over thirty knights trapped inside, and it was uncertain how many could be saved. As for the storages, Maria’s face darkened as he gazed upon the two large craters within his sight.
For a moment, he found himself utterly speechless.
Meanwhile, outside the ruins of the knight’s gate, Lawak was pointing his sword at Brendel, clearly unaware of the incredible events happening inside the fortress behind him, but even so, his face did not appear in a particularly good light. Above him, the Empire’s soldiers were fiercely battling the gargoyles, and the wizards inside the fortress had joined the fray; archers and crossbowmen had also begun to line up, barely stabilizing the situation. Behind him, over a hundred ground dragon knights had finished their preparations, these Cruzian knights clad in heavy armor, raising their lances, the triangular flags fluttering in the wind, resembling an ocean of crimson.
The ground dragons anxiously adjusted their footing, facing the unexpected visitors at the castle gate, as if at a moment’s notice, the knights would charge out en masse.
But at this moment, Lawak felt no sense of security whatsoever.
In his line of sight, Brendel was steadily approaching him, the lord earl standing alone, wielding a sword in one hand, yet his imposing presence seemed undiminished. He faced the Cruzian ground dragon heavy knights alone, his expression calm and collected, as if these once-glorious knights described vividly in history had long since faded from his eyes. Lawak had seen such a detached gaze before, when the bear warriors of the Black Raven Principality charged at that man, that solitary figure with a sword in the arena; the scene was forever imprinted in his mind.
After merely sixty years, had the Erluin people produced yet another such sword saint?
A cold sweat broke out on Lawak’s forehead as a different possibility suddenly struck him.
Behind Brendel, Medisa looked at her lord’s back, silently summoning her unicorn and mounting it, while Husher, Flour, and others lined up behind her, forming a charge formation, ready to follow in the assault.
But at that very moment, Brendel turned and said, “Medisa, go subdue that Empire squad and save the refugees.”
“Lord,” she responded.
But Brendel ignored her, instead addressing Charles, “Charles, the walls are in your hands.”
“Got it.”
Then Brendel turned back, just as Lawak charged at him.
“Attack with me, dragon knights!” Lawak shouted loudly.
The next moment, he could no longer voice such brave words, for he saw Brendel split before him.
He stared in awe as two figures of Brendel seemed to stroll leisurely past him, both raising their swords—without any trickery, merely holding the long swords in a forward motion. This strike seemed so slow that even a child learning to wield a sword could easily avoid it. Lawak also lowered his head to evade, simultaneously trying to discern which of the ‘two’ was the real Brendel.
But just as he bent down, a soul-departing scene unfolded; although he thought he had evaded the sword, when he looked down, he discovered the gleaming blade remained poised before his chest.
“This is impossible!” Just as this thought flashed through Lawak’s mind, he felt a slight pain in his chest, realizing his armor had been slashed open with a long gash. He only sensed the darkness closing in, his knees buckling beneath him uncontrollably as he knelt on the ground.
