Chapter 383: The Sun Rises as Usual
Even though their armor was still partially damaged, the montum of these knights as they charged forward was in no way inferior to that of the Red Dragon Knight Order.
In fact, compared to the coldness of the Red Dragon Knight Order, they exuded an added sense of madness.
As if out of respect for these n, the Red Dragon Knight Order gradually adjusted their sowhat scattered formation. Eventually, they ford a sharp wedge formation, raising their lances, with the Knight Order's Commander at the very front, hoisting the Red Dragon Flag high.
Soon, the two groups of knights closed in. The rebellious knights let out roars.
Then, like an unstoppable sword, the wedge formation of the Red Dragon Knight Order pierced straight through the rebellious knights.
Armor twisted, bodies dented by charging warhorses.
So knights' lances bore a thin red film, seemingly enhancing their armor-piercing ability. The armor of the rebel knights was impaled by these lances and lifted into the air.
『The leader is a Grand Knight!』 soone roared as the warhorse ridden by the Commander trampled over him.
His helt had been kicked away who-knows-where. His head was visibly sunken, both eyeballs burst, and his body was twisted as if it had been slamd again and again.
And after shouting that line, his mangled head struck the ground, lifeless.
Perhaps his last breath had only been for delivering that one piece of information.
『This red layer is just like those bolts—it can tear through armor. In fact, even flesh seems more resilient before this red than the armor!』 cried a man skewered on a lance.
But right after his shout, the knight holding the lance gave it a slight shake, and the man flung off like a torn sack.
『Run! These bastards must be the secret weapon York Territory had hidden away!』 bellowed a knight whose armor had caved in but was still alive—just before his head was lopped off by a longsword shrouded in red.
『Is this the power that knights can wield in the New Testant Era?』 soone scread madly.
But no one answered them.
As so knights had sensed during the clash, these Red Dragon Knights were like weapons swung out. They didn’t respond, didn’t roar. In their eyes, there was only the command they had received.
After one charge broke the enemy line, twenty knights broke off from the Red Dragon Knight Order.
They turned their horses and launched another charge toward the remaining rebels.
Though the rebellious knights’ formation shattered easily, they were still knights. Their battlefield techniques had reached a certain pinnacle. So survived the horse charges with sheer physique, so sensed the anomaly of the red film and dodged it.
In reality, only about ten knights had died in that second charge.
However, when faced with just twenty Red Dragon Knights charging at over eighty of them, the rebels didn’t regroup for a counter-charge.
Just one clash was enough for them to recognize the gap between them and these Red Dragon Knights.
Was it the equipnt? The mounts? Magic? Or the Knight’s Will they had opposed?
Or was it simply because they were knights of the New Testant Era, and these rebels were still living in the Old Testant tis?
They didn’t know.
And they no longer had the mind to ponder it.
Now, all they wanted was to survive.
This was both a human survival instinct and their wish to spread the word of how powerful these knights were.
At the very least, they wanted others like them, who still upheld the ideals of the Old Testant Knights, to know the danger and strength of the New Testant Era’s knights.
At the very least, they couldn’t allow York Territory or the Senate to keep hiding such dangerous assets.
At the very least, they now understood clearly that this had always been a hunting trap set for them.
A re hunting trap—not even worthy of being called a conspiracy.
Just look at these knights, like blazing torches. With such power, why would the Senate need to plot against them?
Sowhere in their hearts, a thought surfaced unconsciously—was it really Marquis Gregor who had issued the summons?
Unfortunately, the castle had already been blasted to pieces. They could no longer get any answers from their liege.
And so, as the twenty torch-like knights charged at them, they scattered in all directions.
They even felt humiliated.
They were clearly the greater number, yet only twenty knights were sent against them. The rest had charged toward the panicked common soldiers.
To those knights, rebels or ordinary soldiers, both were just a life.
The twenty knights of the Red Dragon Knight Order swept through again and then dispersed, hunting down the fleeing knights individually.
But there were still too few Red Dragon Knights. After killing another thirty or so rebels—mostly heavily injured ones—over fifty rebel knights had already escaped beyond ten li from Doyle City.
Seeing the sun not fully risen, the Red Dragon Knights gave up the chase and returned to regroup with the main force.
The Red Dragon Knight Order only had eighty mbers in total. The magic they had learned was purely focused on maximizing knight combat performance on the battlefield—nothing akin to magic cannons.
Or perhaps, the Red Dragon Knight Order did not yet possess that kind of power.
So their killing relied entirely on warhorse charges, lance thrusts, and sword slashes.
Compared to a legion of over two thousand, their kill efficiency seed low. In the end, over eight hundred frightened individuals still managed to flee beyond ten li from Doyle City.
The Knight Order halted at the ten-li boundary. The sun was now halfway risen.
The Knight Order’s Commander looked toward the remaining uncleaned semi-circle. From the eye slit of his helt, a red vertical pupil flashed.
In an instant, his perception spread out, scanning the remainder of the area—no signs of life remained.
The Commander turned to the direction of the fleeing n and waited in silence.
At that mont, the warhorses beneath the knights began to stir. Their bodies glowed with a crisscross of dark red light like swollen blood vessels, as if about to tear their bodies apart, causing them to whinny in pain.
On their heads, bulges began to form—like bone spikes ready to twist the shapes of their skulls.
Finally, as the sun fully rose above the horizon, the Knight Order’s Commander silently waved the flag. The Red Dragon Knight Order set off once again.
Just as Julian had told them—in the area within three li outside Doyle City, after sunrise, everything was their enemy.
...
York Territory, Church of the Sanctuary, Fifth Floor of the Clock Tower.
This fifth floor resembled a palace hall, far larger than what the tower appeared to have from the outside—at least six tis bigger.
At its center stood a small round table, seemingly out of place in such a grand hall.
On the small table sat a breakfast.
Two slices of white bread, an opened jar of jam, a fried walk-ground egg, and a glass of white goat’s milk.
Olivia, dressed in a lavish pale yellow gown trimd with lace, sat beside the table, eyes fixed intensely on the fried egg.
As if nothing else in the room mattered to her.
Suddenly, as though making a decision, she picked up the table knife in her right hand and, within a breath’s ti, swung it nearly a hundred tis.
Then she exhaled sharply, her focused expression vanishing into a bright smile.
She lifted a silver fork with her left hand and pried up the edge of the walk-ground egg. Instantly, what had appeared a whole egg was now reduced to the shape of a halfling figure.
She glanced up nonchalantly at Corleon across the table, who was sipping tea.
Then compared the egg’s shape to him.
The yolk resembled Corleon’s face, and the egg white looked like the white Pope’s robe he wore.
Satisfied that it bore a nine-tenths likeness to Corleon, her smile grew even more pleased.
Then she picked up the knife and slowly carved into the rest of the egg.
First slicing off both sleeves, then cutting the torso below the neck, then sharpening the yolk into a point, and finally drawing a vertical line down.
Across from her, Corleon set down his cup and sighed.
「Only those in York City can afford to eat one egg a day now. Beyond the city, only officials and nobles have the luxury. And in the Northland, even nobles find it rare.」
「You’re the future king. How can you be so wasteful?」
Hearing Corleon’s voice, Olivia’s joyful face scrunched into a frown.
『If being king ans no freedom, then I don’t want to be king!』 she snapped.
『Look at this food—how can one beco a strong warrior eating this?』
『One al should at least include an entire bear!』
『Well, half a White Dove is acceptable too.』
She pointed at the food on the table with disdain.
Corleon replied,『You are of the direct bloodline of King Pegira and his designated heir. From the mont you were born, your destiny was to beco king. As king, at the very least, you must know what your people eat every day.』
Olivia grew even more annoyed. She slamd the table and stood up.
『That old man has another little one, doesn’t he? Let him take the throne!』
Her voice carried a trace of hope as she added,『Only with a proper succession can politics remain stable.』
Corleon chuckled and looked at her like a proud parent seeing a child finally mature.
『Excellent! You’re thinking politically now.』
Olivia first giggled uncontrollably, then forced a serious face.
『So we should force that Cicero onto the throne! Only then will the succession be orderly. That’s the right way!』
She spoke as though saying that if Cicero wasn’t made king, the nation’s future would be dood.
She resembled those senators in the Senate, who debated that if a flower wasn’t nailed to the crossroads’ signpost, the Kingdom of Lundex would fall.
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