Azure Scepter

Page 168

Due to the lockdown, the cathedral area was sparsely populated, with only a few guards patrolling back and forth.

"Is that some kind of new type of firework?" a guard asked curiously, looking up at the pillar of light in the sky.

His partner scoffed, then said, "That's magic! That beam of light is powerful enough to turn you into a puddle of yellow fat."

"I wish I could use magic too," the guard said wistfully.

However, at that moment, a shower of broken bricks and stones suddenly fell from above.

He looked up, puzzled.

Outside the cathedral, on the bridge of the nose of the Saint Sebastian relief, a person wearing leather armor is climbing, seemingly taking a wrong step, and dust mixed with gravel falls down.

"Assassin!" he warned immediately. "There's an assassin above us!"

However, the next moment, he suddenly smelled a pungent smell of blood.

"Thump." His partner collapsed to the ground, crimson blood slowly seeping from the groin of his body.

The guard looked back in disbelief, and then he saw a blinding flash of light from a blade.

—The streets are full of enemies!

Chapter 322 Underground Melee

The silver armor gleamed with a chilling aura, the sharp spear tips resembled a dense forest, and the Orko people advanced rapidly amidst the muffled sound of horns.

The crowd looked at the humans marching on the ground, feeling utterly bewildered.

According to Saint-Sel, all he needed to do was maintain the stalemate in the battle for the underground city of Wilt until Saint-Sel dealt with Trier, then he would have a chance to survive. However, after a few days of reflection, the group had begun to vaguely sense that something was amiss.

Do I really have a chance of survival?

The crowd knows the real answer to this question, but at this moment it is unwilling to face it.

After all, things have come to this point, and there's no turning back. Whether Trier wins a resounding victory, Loseweave pulls off a stunning comeback, or even Saint-Sel wins unexpectedly, he might become the object of the ultimate winner's covetousness.

But at this moment, it could only keep deceiving itself and praying that Saint Seir would keep his promise; but in this desperate prayer, it also felt a little regret deep down.

The likelihood of Trier keeping his promise is far higher than that of Saint-Ser. Why did I even try to jump to the other side in the first place? It was absolutely insane and unwise!

However, the Blood Plague crisis is inevitably heading towards its final end—once Edith enters the throne room and engages in a life-or-death struggle with Losevie's spirit, Fusada will have no hope of turning the tide. After all, even disregarding the group of legends, Fusada would struggle to deal with thousands upon thousands of mortals.

At this moment, as the illusion lock was forcibly shattered by Trier's magic, everyone was finally able to see the area north of the Golden Avenue.

—The fog rolls in, and between the dilapidated and monotonous buildings are almost endless dead people. Every visible crack is crowded with the dead.

On the wide avenue, skeletons and ghouls densely filled every corner. Between the heavy shields, long-handled weapons shimmering with magical light lay flat, like blooming metal roses. Ghosts peered at the humans in the distance through the cracks in the bricks, their eerie blue soul fires burning in the dark crevices like will-o'-the-wisps wandering in a mass grave. Even the air was filled with sinister and terrifying ghostly figures, which formed a dark canopy like dark clouds.

Although the creature did not understand human warfare very well, it vaguely knew from its rudimentary knowledge of warfare that there was a concept of thickness in cold weapon formations.

Since the undead do not need rest and have no morale, Fusada directly assembled a large number of undead into a giant square formation that resembled a sky curtain, with a thickness that could be measured in kilometers. These undead were the dead accumulated by the lich-ified Loseweh over the past thousand years, and this was what Fusada called concentrating superior forces.

Despite the overwhelming numerical advantage of the undead, the Orko seemed unconcerned.

Amidst the increasingly rapid drumbeats and horn calls, colorful messenger flags waved, and the vanguard of the Orko people advanced swiftly towards their massive adversary, like children challenging giants.

The distance between the two sides quickly closed to within 2,500 feet, and as the Orco people approached step by step, the archers and spellcasters on both sides began to launch sporadic long-range volleys.

To secure an advantage in the exchange of fire, the spellcasters on both sides began to use "wind spells" to try and gain the upwind position for their shots.

In an instant, under the influence of magic, the once calm and windless underground city was swept by a whirlwind with constantly changing direction. The originally soft arrows thrown by both sides were immediately transformed into deadly arrows flying wildly under the amplification of the gale.

However, perhaps because the liches who cast the spells were also Orko people in their previous lives, their spellcasting skills were quite poor even after they became liches. For a time, the spellcasters on both sides were even deadlocked in the struggle for the upwind position.

Amidst the howling wind, the Orko silently approached to within two thousand feet. As they drew closer, the randomly hurled arrows became increasingly deadly, but they seemed like undead spirits unafraid of death, completely ignoring these sporadic casualties.

As they drew closer, the accompanying priests began casting spells, the divine light flashing continuously. Meanwhile, the heavily armored knights readjusted their direction and formation, their spears pointing directly at the sea of ​​the dead in the distance. The horses, under shouts, went from a slow gait to a brisk pace.

The Orcos seemed poised to launch a direct assault on the undead ranks? Everyone stared in disbelief.

Although it doesn't know much about military affairs, from a common-sense perspective, using heavy cavalry to charge directly into an infantry formation seems like a rather crazy move.

When the two sides closed to within 1,500 feet, Edith swung his sword downwards. The next moment, an inspiring horn sounded, and the vanguard of more than a thousand men quickly deployed into two attack spearheads to the west and east without hesitation.

The horns grew more urgent, and the horses went from a brisk pace to a trot. The Orko people's marching speed suddenly increased significantly, and the entire city seemed to tremble with the heavy clatter of hooves.

The next instant, several dazzling flashes of light suddenly shot out from the ranks of the Orko people.

The crowd was slightly taken aback, and then they saw Fythia holding a longbow next to Edith.

The dazzling flash shot straight into the sky, and then a blue flash suddenly appeared above the black sky of the dead. The next moment, the blue flash turned into straight silver lines, falling straight down from the sky like shooting stars!

The black canopy formed by the shadows suddenly burst open like ice and snow being pierced by boiling water, leaving countless holes. The silver lines fell to the ground like rain, then expanded and exploded into dazzling balls of light. In the silent explosions, the light plowed a path of flesh and blood, with charred limbs and weapons flying everywhere before suddenly falling back down.

The dense formation of the undead was thrown into slight chaos, and at that moment, the Orko launched a direct charge!

"For victory!"

The silence was instantly replaced by roars. The armored knights kicked their horses' bellies, suddenly accelerating, and a roar like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami erupted in an instant.

Even the distracted crowd was startled. From its perspective in mid-air, the forest of metal spears of the Orco people had been leveled, and the entire vanguard of humanity seemed to have transformed into two flashing torrents of metal!

"Speed ​​up!" Edith took the lead, the blade of her holy sword pointing directly at the spear tip that resembled a forest of undead!

The arrows whistled and shot straight ahead, and a few breaths later, the humans collided head-on with the tidal wave of undead!

Everyone thought that this cavalry charge was suicidal, but to their astonishment, the Orko's charge was like two heavy punches, which actually dented the huge undead formation!

As the charging cavalry became entangled in close combat, the infantry behind them quickly followed, dividing and eliminating the three salients created by the charge.

A single undead, deprived of formation cover, is quite vulnerable. Under the constant barrage of divine spells and heavy hammers, the salient surrounded by the enemy crumbled in an instant.

As the infantry advanced into the heart of the cavalry's wedge, the Ork heavy knights began to break contact with the undead, turning to the sides and overflowing. They then regrouped behind the infantry and launched a second charge, followed by a third, a fourth...

The impacts continued relentlessly. In the clash between metal and flesh, the flesh proved utterly vulnerable. Humans relentlessly squeezed the space of the undead, and the exchange ratio between the two sides eventually stabilized at a terrifying level.

Objectively speaking, this group of standing troops from the southern duchy, temporarily conscripted by Trier, were several orders of magnitude more efficient in attack than Asmo.

However, when the Orco people advanced to the vicinity of the Arc de Triomphe, the two sides eventually reached a stalemate—human physical strength is ultimately limited, but the low-level undead accumulated over thousands of years are almost inexhaustible. They keep emerging and resurrecting, like a piece of rotten but still resilient flesh, clinging tightly to the terrifying impact of humanity.

Meanwhile, the undead's massive but clumsy wings finally stopped standing by and began to slowly encircle the humans' rear. Under the cover of the wings, the undead's mobile forces began to organize themselves.

"Hammer and Anvil Tactics".

At this moment, those in mid-air finally understood the undead's tactical arrangement—using low-level undead as meat shields to delay the enemy's main force, and then waiting until the few remaining enemies were exhausted and had penetrated deep into the formation, at which point the mobile forces on both flanks would launch an attack, directly cutting off the enemy's retreat.

The traditional tactics of the Orco people are devastating to intelligent living beings—but the undead have no morale, and as long as the charge does not directly break through the ranks of the undead, they can stick to the enemy.

Since the Church of Radiance's organization in the southern duchy has effectively collapsed, the number of accompanying priests is quite small. As a result, the few priests are unable to alleviate the soldiers' fatigue and pain and weaken the undead by frequently releasing positive energy bursts.

To the general public, although the human vanguard appears to have the upper hand at present, they are actually in dire straits.

"That's reckless."

The crowd couldn't help but look at Edith on the ground, not believing that this young paladin had any hidden tricks up his sleeve.

However, at this very moment—

"boom!"

A scorching storm of flames suddenly exploded on the left flank of the undead, and the next instant, a giant burning chain whip lashed out at a giant abomination in the undead horde.

From within the black smoke, a fire demon roared to the sky and then charged straight at the undead cavalry who were forming ranks.

A massive number of demons suddenly surged out from both sides of the golden avenue!

The undead had intended to launch a fierce attack on the human rear, but now they were entangled with the enraged demons.

The moment these bloodthirsty monsters appeared, the battle immediately intensified. Flames raged, thick smoke billowed, and with the appearance of the demons, magic flew wildly across the battlefield—the demons' spellcasting abilities were several times stronger than those of both the living and the dead in Orko combined.

For the undead, the worst thing was that the main force of the Orko had finally entered the offensive – large numbers of Asmo appeared on the edge of the battlefield.

As Asmo appeared, a bright halo suddenly enveloped the vanguard of humanity.

The crowd didn't know what it was; all they knew was that it must be a divine spell cast by a legendary priest—the low-level undead that were touched by the edge of the halo all burst into flames, while the humans under the halo seemed to have their strength and stamina greatly restored—the crowd even witnessed a human knight whose neck had been cut in half heal his wounds and come back to life.

In an instant, the already exaggerated exchange ratio doubled under the effect of the divine magic.

The spirits near the Arc de Triomphe were like snow melting in early spring, relentlessly destroyed without any resistance.

"Is this the effect of divine power?" The crowd was completely numb as they watched Noi continuously channeling divine magic in Asmo's ranks.

At this moment, it was filled with extreme regret.

The combat power of the legends around Trier was truly terrifying—whether it was Fythia, who could suppress a large group of Wild Hunt members by herself, or Noy, whose divine magic effects were terrifying, or Edith, who could kill the Balrog alone, each of them was enough to pose a serious threat to the existence of divine power when protected by divinity.

I must be crazy to have chosen to betray Trier!

Loseweave is still in a coma. Even without considering the army and Trier, who hasn't made a move yet, these three legends alone are enough to kill Fusada.

With a large number of Asmos joining the battle, the undead could no longer gain the upper hand in the chaotic carnage. Throughout the long front line, the undead's battle line was slowly but steadily retreating—Edison, who was always at the forefront, had even fought her way onto the Golden Drawbridge, and she was only one step away from the throne room of the Golden Palace.

"Fusada, use your divine power!" the crowd prayed silently.

However, Fusada did not take any action until Edith cleaved the gatekeeper giant ghost with a Holy Slash.

P.S.: I'm still not satisfied with how I wrote it QWQ

Chapter 323 Strange Request

The battle in the underground mirror city of Wirth went quite smoothly, and Trier quietly withdrew his attention from the underground "Arcane Eye".

It's time to confront Saint-Ser's so-called scheme.

As an expert in plotting conspiracies, Trier had also imagined how he would react if his situation were reversed with Saint-Sel's.

However, even after exhausting all his efforts, he couldn't come up with a way to deal with himself—after all, there were only a handful of demigods who could exert influence on the prime material plane, and the resources available to the opponent were far too limited.

Even if Saint Seir successfully secured new support, it would be far from enough to bridge the huge gap in combat power between them.

Therefore, Trier now felt a strange thirst for knowledge—he was quite curious about what means Saint-Sel would use to deal with him.

With this thought in mind, he refocused his attention on the "Mystic Eye" inside the Cathedral of Saint Seil on the ground.

Under the beam of light, the stained glass windows of St. Seychelles Cathedral refracted a magnificent and holy radiance. Yet, at this moment, between the solemnly arranged stone seats, crimson blood flowed like a river.

Amidst the pools of blood, fully armed assassins were professionally and swiftly finishing off the heavily wounded guards. Among the guards' still-warm corpses, Trier spotted a moneylender whose head had been cleaved in two.

Seeing an acquaintance die a violent death, Trier shook his head. However, after a moment, an idea came to him. He took a deep breath and continued to observe the assassin.

Judging from their skills, most of these assassins were only around level 5, roughly the same level as elite soldiers undergoing full-time training...

There wasn't even a single legend among this group of assassins; only the silver-haired leader was truly skilled. The leader's cloak was embroidered with the emblem of the "Withered Rose"—he belonged to the same organization as the halfling "Emerald Tongue," who had attempted to assassinate him at the Duke's wedding.

"Fire the signal flare," the red-haired assassin leader said in a deep voice. "We have secured the road to the Golden Palace and can now unleash the noble armies."

"Won't the signal flare attract Trir's attention?" another assassin asked. "I've heard from the survivors of Eraf that Trir's power is comparable to that of a saint; attracting his attention would be quite dangerous..."

"So what if he stared at us? Could he kill us with just a glance?" the assassin leader sneered. "What saint? That's just the babbling of a country bumpkin who's scared out of his wits. They know nothing about true power. In the face of the art of murder, those weak mages who only know how to perform tricks are no different from ordinary people."

"To be honest, I'll burn that charlatan Trier to ashes."

At this point, the assassin leader walked to the stained glass, snatched the signal gun from his subordinate, aimed at the hole in the dome for a moment, and then fired the signal flare.

"boom!"

The signal flare burst into a crimson firework above the church, its brilliance mirroring the fireworks over Satellite Town on the horizon.

At that moment, the flashes of fireworks, refracted through the church's stained glass, transformed into layers of shimmering light, which illuminated the assassin leader's upturned lips.

A magnificent halo spread out behind the assassin leader's head, like an angel's headdress, and his cold laughter now seemed like a divine oracle.

"I'm right here, kill me if you dare!" As if to boost morale, he suddenly raised his head and shouted.

Before the words were even finished, the magnificent and holy halo suddenly exploded into a dazzling flash!

"boom!"

The intense light and deafening roar erupted suddenly, like a mountain collapsing!

In a fraction of a second, a golden bolt of lightning descended from the sky, shattering the crimson fireworks and then striking the assassin directly in the eye through the hole in the dome.

The assassin who had just questioned the leader was now completely stunned.

Under the surge of adrenaline, his perception was greatly enhanced, and at that moment, even time seemed to slow down.

The moment the lightning touched the leader's eyes, the leader's entire body began to shine with dazzling golden light, and the thin branches of the lightning, like roots burrowing into the soil, suddenly descended along the leader's nerves and blood vessels.

Before the leader's clothes could even catch fire, he was instantly exploded into a pile of bloody flesh and fireworks!

"boom!"

As if that wasn't enough, the lightning transformed into a golden net, which suddenly enveloped the flesh-and-blood fireworks, then burned them all to white ash.

Is there really divine retribution?!

The assassin was completely terrified.