Book 2, 141
Book 2, 141
A Bloody Battle(2)
Sinclair’s blades entangled Fontaine’s sword, twisting it away to one side before she used the dagger in her left hand to attempt a stab at his throat. However, Fontaine’s aura suddenly rose in power; although it wasn’t ferocious, this aura was one of resilience. A few shakes of the wrist allowed the man to slip free of the entanglement, thrusting his weapon towards her almost-bare chest.
Sinclair slightly frowned; the pressure she felt on her hands was a clear indicator of her opponent’s strength. She began moving to the side without a trace, as long as she could build some distance she would be able to disappear immediately and launch a deadly blow from an inconceivable angle.
However, the Baron’s swordplay and power were unexpected. He stuck close to her like a shadow, not giving her the room to use her ability. The pair battled back and forth, the sword and daggers clashing countless times. Even though Fontaine was at a disadvantage, he still managed to reserve the strength to strike back, his sword skills on full display. For a short period of time, Sinclair was actually trapped by him.
Not far away, Richard was silently watching the battle from the side. He’d already taken command of the defense, and was continually casting spells that allowed the Baron to maintain his agility. He had also directed the two level 8 mages under the Baron to curse Sinclair as best they could. Even though they were weak, dispelling spells weren’t affected by the target’s resistance. The three mages had together managed to scatter Sinclair’s defense.
In a mere minute, Richard had already given out seven orders. The guards on the walls had been set in motion, the originally tidy formations growing fuzzy. However, these commands weren’t from the dark; his contracted party and the wind wolves were charging back and forth, congregating the soldiers at their positions.
By this point, the bearguard knights were already within ten metres of the castle, while the manticore paced back and forth nearby as it looked for the perfect time to strike. Twilight Castle’s walls weren’t very high, and it could definitely get up there with a single leap. Even the clumsy and heavy bearguard knights would be able to make it if they found a foothold to boost themselves off at the midpoint.
Once the situation started developing as per his plans outside of some confusion that he had accounted for, Richard suddenly had the illusion that everything in the world was under control. He was towering above the entire battlefield, looking down on everyone.
The shock of the attack by Sinclair’s army, the bearguard knights, and the great mage who had just managed to escape the range of the ballistae was slowly starting to fade away. The chaos on the walls was nothing but a facade; in a mere minute, all his warriors would reach their stations. Those knights who managed to scale the walls would end up facing tremendous pressure, being injured all over as the resistance they faced would only grow fiercer.
A majority of people would not notice the difference on the battlefield. However, Richard new that the key to victory lay in bleeding out his enemy bit by bit.
Sinclair had felt the shift in momentum as well. Fontaine’s ruthless attacks left her unable to clearly judge the battlefield like Richard could, but her keen intuition from years of battle allowed her to sense an aura of danger. With a quick glance at her surroundings, she knew that a few people were rushing over in an obvious attempt to surround her.
She couldn’t help but laugh coldly at the thought. How could any ordinary person try to interfere in this fight? Even the level 14 baron was nothing but trash in her eyes, leave alone those losers who were merely level 11 or 12. The only question was whether it was worth it risking small wounds to rid herself of these irritating insects, or whether she would wait for the opposition to show signs of weakness or make mistakes.
Richard... That was her true target on this expedition.
The opportunity came soon enough. A sudden, forceful swing of her daggers forced Baron to retreat, and she took the opportunity to attack. The surrounding warriors who hadn’t found the opportunity to attack found their chests and throats gushing with blood. They wobbled, but they did not fall.
At that moment, the assassin strode forward with her charming eyes locked onto Richard. The longer dagger in her right hand was held in reverse grip, her hand raised as she stabbed down. There was nothing nearby, but this was Sinclair’s greatest advantage in battle: unpredictable movements and mysterious strikes.
Her peripheral vision started to blur, as a line between her and Richard had already been formed in her mind. Anyone who tried to block her would either be dodged instantly or killed. Whatever the case was, by the time the blade in her right hand fell, it would definitely hit Richard in the throat.
In Sinclair’s eyes, any mage was an easy target. If she made it close, even a great mage wouldn’t be able to escape their fate. At worst, they would be able to survive a few more slashes. The daggers in her hands had the ability to repel magic, they were godlike weapons even in Norland.
Her right foot toed the ground, her entire body shaking with rage. Just as she was about to explode with rage, however, Richard suddenly screamed manically, “FLOWSAND!”
The scream was far too fast and eager. Richard’s face was already distorted in Sinclair’s field of view, but even so she was slightly startled. Flowsand? This was a familiar name, but she couldn’t remember at all where she had heard it before. She only paused for a moment, before continuing to run in his direction.
All of a sudden, she started to realise that her surroundings had changed. She felt like she was inside water, Richard’s contorted face extending all around her. It was like waves were pushing her back, and everyone else had suddenly sped up. Sounds grew sharp and fragmented, as though two pieces of rusted iron were rubbed together. There was no way she could decipher the contents, but she was almost certain her enemies were cheering!
In the next moment, she finally understood. She indeed had heard human voices, it was just that they were so much faster that they seemed piercing to the ear.
She continued with her strike, her feet shooting off the ground uniformly as she charged. Her ability distorted the light in her vicinity, and the explosive burst of speed would give others the illusion that she had teleported. However, with everyone else moving so much faster now, she had instead become the slowest in the bunch.
Something must have happened! An unprecedented fear started to rise in Sinclair’s heart, but her actions and thoughts were still sluggish. Even now, she couldn’t comprehend the situation. The only thing that gave her comfort was the confused gazes of many soldiers as they swept through the area trying to find her. At least she was now in her half-invisible state.
At that moment, she started to feel a pain all over her body. She looked down, aghast to find that golden flames had covered her entire person. This was a pure, divine fire, something only priests and great mages could dispel. The fact that they would cause constant harm was secondary; Sinclair’s greatest fear was that the flames surrounding her would cause her invisibility to fade away. There was another major problem— the power that propelled these flames was the divine might of the Eternal Dragon!