Pink Snow Battle (7)

As the golems were destroyed, Count Elderwood felt fear for the very first time since the last territorial war against the Moonfall household. Not only did the Count break the treaty of non aggression, he was also losing a battle that was in his advantage.

However, no matter how strong the young Grand Knight was, he was ultimately...alone. He did not possess the ability to destroy an army single handedly.

After destroying the golems, Drake felt exhaustion. His arm was completely burnt, and he could no longer swing his sword like he did early on. While having high strength was a blessing, it also made his consumption of stamina so much higher than anticipated.

'Is this where I am going to die?', Drake wondered as he looked at three preparatory knights charging towards him with a fiery look.

Deflecting their swords, it only took three thrusts to take their lives, each one targetting their heart. But before he could breath in relief, his eyes allowed him to process the incoming arrows. Barely deflecting them this time, he could feel reaching his limits.

He was furious against the Count. He had not even talked or offended the man. Yet, he had crushed his army in cold blood, disregarding treaties of ceasefire between two of the most esteemed households of the Porfield Kingdom.

'Even if he kills me, he won't get much out of an intermediate rank beast...And the Moonfall family will avenge me...', Drake thought, 'The Elderwood Household cannot defend against the Moonfall patriarch either, even if their elders use their trump cards. It already lost once, so why would it take so much risk?'

Drake had failed to recognize the true value of a giant intermediate-rank magical beast in times where magical resources were beyond rare. He also did not know much about alchemy, even if he had scanned the books left behind Moundir, the necromancer. As an alchemist, resources meant potions, and potions meant more intermediate rank acolytes to the Elderwood household.

Drake needed a power up.

*SPLASH*

But the more men he cut down, the heavier his sword and armour became.

'Hisss...'

Unknowingly, he began to make mistakes, and a spear grazed his thigh. His spiritual force was at the bottom, his forcefield no longer capable of withstanding the rain of fire coming towards him.

Drake knew that he had killed too many soldiers from the Elderwood army to surrender. If he did, he would not be spared.

As a fireball hit his back, Drake managed to charge one last time. This time, he targetted a group of three acolytes who looked like brothers and sisters.

[Triple Cut]

The knight killing technique he had poured hundreds of hours into optimizing was finally shining, going through the defensive spells poorly casted by the youths.

[You have successfully dealt 24 degrees of damage]

The shield made of fire and mud was obliterated. The acolytes were not killed on the spot though, but the blood flowing out of their chests and neck made it clear that it was only a matter of time before they would bleed to death.

Drake then felt a shadow behind him, sealing his movements. Unable to move, he did not manage to avoid the incoming attacks. It was a powerful fireball, cast by the Count himself.

'Is this it?', Drake thought, 'I should have made more preparations, and asked for reinforcements after learning that the beast had become an intermediate rank magical creature...I should have invested in spies to learn more about neighbouring territories...'

However, just as he thought that he would die, a dozen soldiers rushed towards him, holding their shields with smiles on their faces: "LORD! WE HAVE FINALLY REACHED YOU!"

Drake shook his head: "no...You can't block that..."

The soldiers blocked the fireball with smiles on their faces, but the spell of an intermediate acolyte was lethal. Most died on the spot, while the remaining ones sustained injuries that would be lethal. However, it gave enough room for Evangeline to sneak on the back of a horse and throw him in Arthur's direction, who was ready to sprint out.

As if he was possessed by a demon, Arthur started to swing his great sword madly, cutting soldiers as if they were butter. The morale of the Elderwood army could not be any lower. Dozens of captains had died, not to mention three of the [Seven Great Swords]. Besides the loss of knights and acolytes, even the great golems of the Count had been destroyed, with the acolytes above them unconscious from the fall.

Evangeline supported Arthur too in his massacre, but with only one arm, she could only do so much. Minutes later, a spear pierced her heart. She loved her lord, and she died protecting him. There was nothing more satisfying for a knight to die fulfilling their duty.

Miraculously, Arthur managed to pierce through the last Elderwood soldiers who blocked his path, and escape. Most archers were too far away, or killed already. As for acolytes, range was not their forte.

With Arthur's horsemanship, he galloped at high speed, not looking behind.

The Frozen Knight Order had been destroyed, and the harvest of the [Giant Python] stolen.

Ever since he reincarnated in this world, sixteen years ago, it was Drake's first miscalculation.

At this point, he realized the limits of his biochip. It could only give him predictions based on information it possessed. Unlike humans, it was not paranoid and did not possess the ability to imagine the impossible.

Nothing could explain such a strong and decisive move from the Elderwood forces.

The Elderwood Household had already lost a war against the Moonfall household, and it was no longer appropriate to compare the powers of both families anymore. The Moonfall Household was much more powerful, although it operated discreetly in the realm.

At this point, Drake came to the following conclusion: 'An elder must have broken through the peak rank realm...What terrible luck...'

Drake had lost.

More than two hundred men, loyal to the bone, had died to protect his life.

Men he drank with.

Men he trained with.

Men he fed.

Men he helped get back on their feet after getting in trouble.

Men he promised a better future to.

Their deaths were weighing heavily on his heart.

As apathetic as Drake thought himself to be, he found himself crying. No matter how angry he felt, he could not shake away the fact that his army had fallen.