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Each imperial knight was a warrior who had reached the level of Expert. Even after losing their sense of self, their martial skills had not dulled in the slightest.
Empowered by the White Peak Palace’s energy, they were capable of threatening even Masters, and their true danger lay not in individual might, but in their mastery of group combat.
If Leon’s party wanted to break through the Imperial Knights, they couldn’t afford a war of attrition. These enemies were supplied with near-limitless power, which meant that there was no point in dragging it out. They had to stake everything on a single throw of the dice.
“Elahan! Hold the front line!” Leon cried out.
“Yes, Hero!”
The moment the order fell, Elahan charged forward. Gripping the Holy Iron Breaker with both hands, she swung it wide, forcing the Imperial Knights to retreat. Even creatures driven only by instinct—no, because they were driven only by instinct—sensed the destruction in that blow and backed away.
“Haaaaaah!”
And she didn’t stop there. Elahan continued to swing the massive maul in wild, sweeping arcs in every direction.
The head alone weighed over thirty kilograms, its length longer than an average person’s height. The wind pressure alone was devastating, as if to declare that brushing against it would be enough to crush one’s bones to dust. Each swing grew faster, heavier, the golden afterimages blurring together into...
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