Ch.92Hundred Days Battle (6)

The elite knights of the Dark Order had vanished.

It was a calamity that befell them while they were working to stabilize the rear areas in place of the originally assigned forces that had been dawdling. They had perished, unable to withstand the relentless flames of war.

The Order was in shock. They tried to make their moves on the war map, but there were no units left to command. All had fallen to the demons.

“Regroup!”

“Don’t engage! Run if you see them!”

Eventually, the demon containment perimeter, once a product of loyalty, transformed into a refuge for survivors. Forces that had broken away in defiance of the Cardinals returned in tatters. Seeing their condition, other soldiers grew fearful and hoped to remain within the perimeter.

“I-I would rather prove my faith.”

“This is suicide. We’re staying here too.”

Their numbers swelled as time passed. Even the Cardinals, who had initially responded with mockery, began to take the situation seriously. It was excessive, far too excessive, with most of the nearly twenty thousand crusaders crowding into this area.

There was little chance they could supply such forces, let alone make rounds in the rear to reaffirm their faith.

Humans tended to pass on responsibilities as their numbers grew. That serpentine whisper of “someone else will do it” made them reluctant to take on difficult tasks.

Eventually, with the fire at their feet, they had to urgently return to those they had cast aside.

“I implore the knights. Please quickly organize and dispatch reinforcements.”

“It’s too late, Your Eminence. Our knightly order has suffered severe casualties and cannot carry out operations at present.”

“It doesn’t have to be you. We have plenty of troops here, so we can send anyone, can’t we?”

“Who would risk death by going out there?”

The positions had reversed. The Order’s knight snorted derisively.

“Previously, you sent only the knights out, claiming others lacked faith, and now they’re all dead. It wasn’t martyrdom or proof of faith—it was literally dying like dogs.”

“Ah, how can you call fighting demons dying like dogs!”

“We’re no match for them. Isn’t a battle only called such when the sides are somewhat equal?”

The knight turned his head. Somewhere beyond the horizon. The battle between two demons that continued to tear apart the sky. It hadn’t stopped despite several days and nights passing.

“It’s too late to turn back now. We can no longer gather our strength.”

“Damn it!”

The Cardinal, unable to contain his anger, pounded the command table repeatedly. His fury grew as nothing changed.

While the Saint fought, humans simply died off.

Without leaving even a single line in mythology.

They would be forgotten, becoming just one among many under the vast name of the Dark Order.

“Follow the natural course.”

“You! What do you intend to do!”

“No options remain.”

The Order’s knight donned his helmet.

“I suppose I must die. It seems that is my fate.”

The knights calmly prepared for their end.

The Saint was no longer of any concern to them.

#

The moon shone brightly.

It was gentler and more beautiful than the red energy of the demon realm. How could one feel fear looking at that light draped like a curtain?

This was why the so-called Dark Order couldn’t even properly defeat a single crusade.

Berdia clicked her tongue in disappointment after breaking through countless knightly orders. Their weakness was severe. It felt similar to when the Regent leading the Dark Lord’s main forces had massacred a tribe of barbarians.

It was frustrating not having a proper duel, with everyone falling in a single strike. The most dangerous complacency on the battlefield seemed imminent.

“It’s good that things are going smoothly, but the problem is the accompanying carelessness. The troops need to stay sharp.”

“You say that after killing three thousand.”

“I can’t afford to be complacent when there are still tens of thousands of necks to sever. We’ve been sending victory reports, but we still haven’t caught a glimpse of our final objective, the holy relic.”

“It’ll be soon. You’ll be able to have the battle you want shortly.”

The strange sight of a demon commander and hero conversing continued. They were looking at the same place.

A black cathedral appearing over the horizon.

Though smaller in scale than St. Moriano, its eeriness against the night sky was a level above.

The holy relic, the Fragment, that had given power to the Saint.

The place Ludmila had mentioned as being tied to fate. The wind blowing in was chilling. This kind of atmosphere always settled in before major events.

“The timing isn’t good. Should we attack at dawn?”

He must have been unwittingly intoxicated. When the hero spoke nonsense, Berdia immediately kicked him.

“Ugh!”

“Don’t talk rubbish. Every minute, every second is urgent for us. The Regent of the demon realm is fighting with his life on the line—how can we just sit around?”

Shing.

A sharp sword revealed itself to the world. The cavalry following behind gripped their spears firmly. The demon steeds exhaled rough breaths.

The calm air heated up again.

The moment of destiny?

If that’s what they wanted, he would gladly cut it for them.

If it was the world Durin desired, they had the courage to leap into it even if it meant their death.

“Let’s go.”

There was no grand speech or passionate declaration of will.

Just a simple word as he grabbed the reins.

The moment to dye the beautiful moonlit night red approached.

#

“Wh-where are the knights?”

“Well…”

“The reinforcements! Where did those forces that flocked to the Saint go?”

Where there is an Order, there is a Patriarch leading them. Though now completely overshadowed by the Saint and reduced to a sidelined elder, his vigor had not yet waned.

“Who are you all doing this for? Quickly send messengers to stop those demons.”

“The Saint is engaged in a great battle. We do not wish to interfere with the creation of mythology.”

“Such fools! Are you truly knights of the Dark Order, showing such madness?”

“We are also the Black Brothers who have sworn our lives to the Saint. We have another divine blessing, so we can defeat them. Please watch.”

The black-armored knights imprisoned the Patriarch. From the tightly locked sanctuary, the powerless old man could only wail.

“I was wrong. I was wrong! I shouldn’t have brought the Saint here seeking greater power!”

The Order’s creed had vanished.

Darkness. They were not merely those who had chosen heresy.

They were seekers who had chosen night in opposition to the god of day.

He had wanted to aid the people abandoned by heaven and give them a new guiding light of revenge, but now it was all wrong.

The Saint’s influence had consumed everything. Devotees captivated by her powerful strength had established a new religion.

They had truly become heretics. The Order had become one that brought in unidentified holy relics and wielded unknown powers. It was no longer about darkness.

“What about revenge! Who will rule over that hypocritical heaven!”

He beat his chest and wailed. The echo was sorrowful.

“Fate! You led me here, so why have you abandoned me!”

He shouted toward the unresponsive void. Of course, she remained silent.

But.

Boom…

Someone announced that there was a new path.

Fearsome shouts from the other side. Beings that stimulated the fear ingrained in human instinct.

The Patriarch immediately realized. No matter what strange powers these lowly ones wielded, they could not overcome the source of humanity’s fear.

“This is… your oracle.”

The moment the Patriarch muttered these words, the locked door shattered.

Fragments flew in all directions. Through the thick dust, a demon unit with blue horns entered the sanctuary.

“Pa…Patriarch.”

A knight who had stood to block the Saint’s enemies lay shattered. Blood continued to flow from his crushed eye sockets. Regardless of his faith, he had been ravaged by demons.

“S-save me…”

Crack!

His head disappeared. It turned into red porridge, staining the floor.

“It really was an empty house.”

They laughed mockingly. The remains of the holy knights who had just been loyal were included. The heads hanging at their waists stuck out their tongues pitifully. It was a far better end than the soldier who had just died.

The old man could feel it.

“Death has truly drawn near.”

And so he could become detached. As the head of the Dark Order before the Saint, he had overcome countless mountains. This scene was not despair but a path leading to a new fate. The old man’s intuition whispered instinctively.

“The remaining option was indeed demon worship.”

The only force that could oppose heaven. He had been avoiding it due to impious thoughts, but now he had to accept it.

For the new era would be accompanied by their cruelty.

“So please, us…”

“Begone.”

The old man who had been putting on airs and offering worship flew away like a fluttering leaf. The demons paid no attention. They had to send a more important signal than the prayer of a wretched being.

“Send reconnaissance beasts to inform the High Warlock.”

“We have conquered the sanctuary of the Dark Order!”

The demons’ cheers spread on the wings of small flutters.