Amber Sword

On the battlefield, the White Lion battle banner began to move slowly once more.

Leading the charge at the forefront was Nemesia. The female knight held the battle banner in one hand and a longsword in the other; she was like the spearhead of the entire White Lion Legion’s offensive. Little demons engaging her would often be taken down from the city ramparts with just one slash.

Such ruthless swordsmanship was witnessed for the first time by Freyja, who couldn’t help but feel surprised. The swordsmanship was so similar to Brand’s. At that moment, Nemesia seemed to embody the White Lion itself, baring her fangs and claws, tearing apart all her enemies, leading everyone forward.

Behind her, the soldiers of the White Lion Legion and the officer cadets of the Royal Knight Academy unleashed their greatest potential at this moment, and the attack finally became successful. They charged up the walls like a hot knife through butter.

"Minotaurs!"

A heart-wrenching shout.

Freyja also saw it; she climbed over the ramparts and saw yet another wall behind, behind which were dense rows of minotaurs wielding giant axes, numbering at least a hundred. Before she could widen her eyes, the soldiers at the front were suddenly flung into the air.

Behind the minotaurs appeared a group of snake-haired women, holding longbows. They were Medusas, a mythical creature recognized even by the young girl from Buci despite her limited knowledge.

"Ah..." Freyja couldn’t help but utter a low cry instinctively.

This was a trap.

Everyone suddenly realized it. Nemesia’s face turned cold, frightfully so, and Freyja even saw the knight’s hand holding the flag had no trace of blood color and began to tremble slightly.

"Don’t look over there, let’s keep moving forward."

She shouted with difficulty.

Yet a wave of arrows was already covering the ramparts above; it was Medusa’s attack, a rain of ghostly green arrows that no armor could withstand. The soldiers at the front barely had time to struggle before turning to stone.

𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

With one volley, a third of those charging at the forefront were gone. The Medusas moved swiftly, beginning to draw bows and notch arrows again.

...

Suddenly, the White Lion battle banner disappeared.

Marquis Balta saw this scene with his own eyes — saw the White Lion battle banner fall, disappearing into the rainy mist. A feeling of utter despair welled up in his heart, suddenly feeling a bit dazed, as if only one sound echoed in his heart:

Elruin had lost its last chance.

"Marquis, be careful!"

A barbarian demon flew past the rampart, brushing past Balta. The marquis, momentarily distracted, found his hand suddenly empty, his longsword torn away by that barbarian demon. Instinctively shocked, he turned back and saw a horned demon leap before him.

Such terrifying presence.

This was Balta’s final thought. The horned demon cruelly seized his neck, lifting him off the ground, with an overwhelming strength gap far beyond his level, leaving the marquis with no chance to resist.

"Marquis!"

"Commander!"

As the White Lion Legion soldiers screamed in panic, Balta walked the last journey of his life. At that moment, he seemed to see the light within the darkness, a tall and familiar silhouette standing there, just like that time on the battlefield.

Marshal.

The horned demon effortlessly snapped the neck of the Elruin marquis, the commander of the White Lion Legion, and tossed the lifeless corpse aside. Then it stomped down the Elruin banner on the rampart.

It looked down contemptuously at all the human soldiers within the city, viewing them as mere trash, weaker than even the lowest creatures in hell. If not for the teleportation gate unable to transfer more high-end troops for now, this place should have been wiped out ten times over already.

Dealing with these pests was truly irritating.

However, regardless, this damn citadel was finally conquered—

Bunoan Guard City had fallen.

Wood saw through the crystal ball the flag disappearing in the rain, finally realizing the fate of defeat. Elruin would be destroyed, and his path ended here. No one knew better than him what this meant for the Flame Temple.

He could almost foresee losing everything he held dear. But more importantly, that the Flame Temple would be shamed by this. The old man couldn’t help but cover his face, deeply sighing.

It was all his fault.

"Prepare to retreat, fulfill those nobles’ wishes, believe they will regret this." This once distinguished Chief Priest also couldn’t help but answer with a bit of despair at this moment.