Book 2, Chapter 127

Unwilling Defeat(2)

“That girl is really only fifteen?” Salwyn asked the great mage next to him with a grave expression.

“My magic doesn’t lie, she is level 15 at most!” the great mage answered with an equally serious tone.

This great mage was still young, almost the same age as Salwyn himself. He seemed destined to become a powerhouse in the future. As such, Salwyn had great respect for him, also being certain that he wouldn’t go on the battlefield unless he gained full control of the situation. Such a young character with a promising future likely wouldn’t risk placing himself in danger.

Before the battle even began the mage had cast various buffs on the army, fulfilling his purpose in accompanying the troops. He had nothing left to do.

In his entire life, Salwyn had never lost absolute control of a battle. Single battles aside, even long campaigns were under his thumb from start to finish. Everything went exactly as he planned, and even if there were small hiccups along the way he had a habit of maintaining strong reserves to deal with them.

His reputation as a war artist wasn’t something he had engineered himself. It had come naturally through his various military victories, both large and small. The only reason Rislant outranked him in the Iron Triangle Empire was due to a difference in age and experience. At least, that was the way Salwyn and his subordinates saw it. It was only because of this reputation that Salwyn was selected as the commander of the alliance. If not for that, this post would customarily have been taken up by a powerful general of the Sequoia Kingdom.

Watching the battle from the sidelines, the nobles of the Sequoia Kingdom hid far away from the frontlines. The high-ranking officers were secretly happy that command had not gone to them; Salwyn was the only one who could sustain such a difficult battle. They themselves would likely have lost their frontlines to that female demon’s surprise attacks long ago.

However, the only thing Salwyn seemed to change was the length of the struggle. With his carriage acting as the core of the army, ahead of them was a muddled battlefield with thousands of people.

More than two thousand elite soldiers had started the battle, and hundreds more had been engaged as it went on. There were still a hundred or so elite soldiers around Salwyn, but they were the personal guard of the more than ten groups of nobles here. They couldn’t be activated unless they were surrounded and in immediate danger. The same went for Salwyn’s fifty imperial guards. They were the protectors of the royal household, and their chief duty was to protect the prince.

The allied forces were up against more than six thousand soldiers, but the opposing army was far inferior to theirs. There were all kinds of people amongst the troops, ranging from fierce robbers to ordinary men who just swung their weapons wildly. However, there was no place for weaklings in the Bloodstained Lands; even ordinary men were comparable to common soldiers of the human kingdoms. The slight difference between them and the elites they were facing was overcome by their strength in numbers, especially in a staggered melee like this one.

Professional soldiers took advantage of formations, discipline, and teamwork on the battlefield, amplifying their individual prowess. Their training allowed them to be twice as good as they were alone, also keeping their morale up. However, this battlefield was devoid of such superiority. The allied forces couldn’t maintain their formation at all, every organisation attempt by Salwyn broken apart by the ferocious bearguard knights as they completely shattered all resistance.

Once the black-armoured knights managed to penetrate the toughest defences of their enemies, they would return to a square formation and await further orders. They used this time to get some rest; following them were ravenous slaves who would fight like wolves and tigers.

The two great mages of the Schumpeter Family didn’t cast spells to assist the soldiers in their engagements; all their energy was used up in keeping the powerhouses of the opponents at bay. Four mages above level 10 had already fallen to their spells, alongside three level 12 priests. This alone showed the difference between Norland and Faelor; if two mages of similar level from Faelor were to take their place, there would be no crushing victories. They would have had to exert all their effort, only barely coming out victorious.

On top of all that, Sinclair’s cunning was terrifying. She constantly had a dazed expression on her face, with nobody knowing when her hysteria would break out once more. The messy battlefield posed no distraction to her at all; she appeared and disappeared when and where she pleased. Her split=second teleport abilities allowed her to quietly appear behind her target, killing them with one swift blow.

Her hands, legs, knees, elbows… every part of her body was a deadly weapon, and most deadly of all was the two black daggers that she wielded with pinpoint accuracy. Faced against these blades, even an imperial knight’s heavy armour seemed to be nothing but paper.

Sinclair didn’t attack often, but every move affected the outcome of the battle. A level 16 priest, a level 14 great mage, a saint-level paladin had all died at her hands. In fact, the only injury she had sustained on the battlefield was when the paladin had returned a blow in his last moments. However, the attack had only made her spit out some blood that was a dirty black.

The manticore was quietly crouched down, its huge ten-metre body an unspeakable deterrence on the battlefield. Its abilities hadn’t been put on full display; it seemed like it was only responsible for Sinclair’s safety when she was alone. A group of elite soldiers had rushed at it early on, but its sting had emitted a cloud of poisonous mist that killed them within thirty seconds. The manticore seemed to tire after the discharge, but a few hearts from Sinclair in quick succession revitalised it. After that display, nobody dared near a ten metre radius of it, not even the bearguard knights that were on the same side.

Salwyn had assumed that a battle against an unorganised mass would have been easy. Their disadvantage in numbers was merely superficial; having led Red Cossack before, he knew that his three thousand elites actually far surpassed the opposing army. And that was before the effect of battle on the mixed mob that had no training was considered.

However, the battle had not gone as planned. That demonic young lady used her keen sense of smell on the battlefield, removing his powerhouses one by one. The stable frontlines had been smashed to bits by the bearguard knights, turning the entire battlefield into a huge brawl.

And Sinclair had brought six thousand people with her! Given his understanding of the Bloodstained Lands, Salwyn feared every adult male had been herded to this battle. The hardest thing to comprehend was that the enemies were losing more men than he was, but that mix of soldiers that had been forced to battle showed no signs of wanting to retreat or escape.

When Sinclair disappeared and resurfaced among a group of imperial knights, Salwyn knew that the group was certainly done for. How many people had this demon killed? It seemed like she never tired, and never got hurt. It made him feel like every time she was tiring, she healed herself by eating the hearts of his strongest soldiers!

This was no misconception. Sinclair had a grade 4 rune on her body, the Dark Sacrifice. This rune could absorb the enemy’s vitality, boosting the user’s stamina and endurance. It effectively made her invulnerable to normal damage. This was an extremely powerful rune that was comparable to some grade 5 runes, but it had one breakout flaw. Its power irked the Eternal Dragon, making it difficult for anyone using it to be granted an extension of their life. This meant that they had a hundred years fewer than others on their path to power.

Looking at Sinclair inflict wanton destruction on another group of paladins, Salwyn grabbed the great mage standing next to him with one swoop. His eyes were blazing red as he gave the man a death stare, roaring at the top of his voice, “Look at what’s happening! You say she’s only level 15? YOU STILL DARE SAY SHE’S ONLY LEVEL 15?!”

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OMA's Thoughts

Translated By: Styles

Edited By: Theo

TLC'ed By: OMA