The End of the Radiant Knights

The vice commander's face was filled with concern as he hesitated before speaking.

"Commander, the enemy has been avoiding direct confrontation all this time. Yet now, they suddenly take the initiative to attack? Could something be amiss? Perhaps we should proceed with caution."

Vance gritted his teeth. His mind was already set, and his voice carried unwavering determination.

"What could possibly have changed? Are you telling me the Radiant God himself has descended? This battle was inevitable. Since they've willingly delivered themselves to us, let it happen sooner rather than later. I'd like to see what tricks they have up their sleeves!"

Hearing his words, the vice commander pondered for a moment before nodding in agreement. Without further hesitation, he hurried off to rally the troops and prepare for battle.

Before long, Vance led thirteen thousand imposing knights forward, their steady and powerful steps echoing across the battlefield. Opposing them, another formidable cavalry force advanced in perfect formation. As both sides approached, their figures emerged from the haze of dust kicked up by countless hooves.

The gap between them closed rapidly, and a heavy, suffocating tension settled over the battlefield. The moment of reckoning had arrived.

When they reached the optimal distance for a cavalry charge, silence reigned—no unnecessary words, no negotiations. The knights, on both sides, slowly drew their gleaming swords, the cold steel flashing ominously under the sunlight. The air itself seemed to hum with the promise of bloodshed.

Then, in perfect synchronization, both commanders gave the order.

The war horns blared, piercing through the battlefield like a blade of sound, rousing every knight's fighting spirit.

In an instant, both cavalry units surged forward, a tidal wave of steel and fury. The thunder of hooves roared like a storm rolling over the earth, shaking the very ground beneath them. Dust billowed into the air, casting a golden haze over the battlefield.

At that critical moment, Rowan summoned divine power and cast a Grand Blessing.

An invisible force swept across the battlefield, enveloping all ten thousand members of the Radiant Knights.

A surge of overwhelming strength filled their bodies, their exhaustion vanishing in an instant. Muscles tightened with newfound vigor, and eyes blazed with renewed determination. Even their warhorses felt the divine touch—their legs pumping with greater speed, their movements surging with unprecedented power.

With morale soaring and bodies infused with divine strength, the Radiant Knights crashed into the enemy ranks like an unstoppable avalanche.

The aftermath of the first clash was staggering.

The Radiant Knights had lost a thousand men—a heavy toll, yet nothing compared to the devastation wrought upon their foes. The Glorious Knights suffered five thousand casualties, their once-mighty formation now littered with bodies, both human and horse alike. The ground was soaked in blood, turning the battlefield into a nightmarish hellscape.

Watching from the rear, Black's eyes gleamed with exhilaration.

"The Pope… he's incredible! What kind of divine art is this? I've never seen him wield such power before… This is beyond belief!"

The Radiant Knights, emboldened by their overwhelming success, erupted into victorious cheers. The previous tension of battle had vanished, replaced by unshakable confidence. They could see it now—the distant yet inevitable light of final victory.

On the other side, Vance stared at the carnage in shock, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.

"This… this isn't possible. How did the Radiant Knights suddenly become this powerful?"

But there was no time to dwell on the unthinkable. The battle was far from over. With no other options, Vance quickly restructured his forces and prepared for another charge, hoping to reverse their misfortune.

However, before their second assault could begin, Rowan once again drew upon divine power and cast a Grand Healing.

A miraculous sight unfolded before the Radiant Knights—wounds sealed shut as if touched by the hands of divinity, pain faded, and fatigue melted away. The once-wounded warriors stood tall once more, their spirits soaring to new heights.

To them, it was nothing short of a divine miracle.

Battle cries erupted, shaking the very heavens.

In stark contrast, the Glorious Knights found themselves trapped in despair. Their earlier confidence had been shattered, crushed beneath the weight of staggering losses. They had believed in their superiority, yet reality had proven merciless—five thousand of their comrades had fallen in mere moments, while their enemies stood stronger than before.

Then, once again, the battle horns sounded.

A second charge commenced.

The battlefield trembled beneath the thunderous charge of warhorses, dust rising in great clouds, obscuring the sky itself.

And then—impact.

Steel clashed against steel, flesh met flesh, and the battlefield became a maelstrom of death and destruction. The chaotic symphony of war played on, a tragic yet magnificent aria of bloodshed.

By the time the second clash ended, the Glorious Knights had suffered an even greater catastrophe—six thousand more lives lost. Their mighty force, once a proud and powerful legion, had been reduced to a pitiful remnant of barely two thousand men. Their collapse was imminent.

The Radiant Knights, having lost only another thousand men, remained an unbreakable force.

The battle was decided.

There was no need for a third charge.

Seeing the enemy on the verge of total defeat, the Radiant Knights surged forward to finish the job.

Black led the charge, cutting through enemy ranks like a divine avenger. His every move was enhanced by Rowan's divine blessings—speed, strength, and precision beyond mortal limits. Within mere moments, he closed in on Vance.

Their blades clashed in a whirlwind of steel, but Black was far superior. Seizing an opening, he swung his sword in a blinding arc.

A flash of silver.

Blood sprayed into the air.

Vance's eyes widened in shock before his lifeless body toppled from his horse.

With their commander slain, the remaining forces crumbled. The five thousand reinforcements, who had been preparing to flank from behind, never even got the chance to engage.

The Radiant Knights had completely annihilated the enemy.

Black could hardly believe it. The scale of this victory was surreal, as if he had stepped into the pages of a legend.

Yet there was no time for celebration.

Shaking off his daze, he swiftly gathered the remaining knights and led a relentless pursuit of the fleeing remnants of the enemy army.

With their momentum unstoppable, the Radiant Knights reclaimed every inch of lost territory in the Duchy of Lann, then pushed onward—breaking through the borders of the Loran Duchy itself.

Everywhere they went, resistance crumbled before them.

Victory was no longer a distant hope.

It was destiny.