Chapter 55: The Might of a Paladin

Everything happened far too quickly. The echo of Nolan’s roar—“Release!”—still seemed to linger in the forest, yet his fully unleashed greatsword had already cleaved the Black Knight and its skeletal steed from head to toe, reducing them to fragments in a single strike. The finely crafted black armor, engulfed in golden-red flames, shattered like rotten wood. 

Boom! The greatsword crashed into the ground with a thunderous impact. The shockwave forced another Black Knight behind it to stagger backward, while the one on the far left was hurled clean off its mount, slamming heavily onto the ground. 

Blood continued to drip from Rehanna’s left arm. She had already closed her eyes, convinced this would be the end. As the captain of the “Fire Fox” mercenary band, one of the strongest in the region, she had never imagined that a routine escort mission would cost her life. The irony stung. 

Yet the sudden reversal before her eyes struck just as violently as the undead knights themselves. 

Moments ago, those same Black Knights had dominated the battlefield, pushing her to the brink of death. Now one of them had been obliterated instantly by an overwhelming display of brute force. 

The black armor that had deflected her every blow now lay scattered across the ground, still flickering with golden embers. 

A single thought filled her mind. 

Was this… the Mother Goddess Sethis’ salvation? 

After a brief moment of stunned silence, the surviving mercenaries erupted into deafening cheers. 

“Woooooo—!” 

“A master! We’re saved! We’re saved!” 

With a single charge, Nolan had crushed every skeleton in his path, buying them precious breathing room. Seeing such a warrior fighting on their side transformed despair into blazing hope, igniting everyone’s morale. 

The shockwave he had unleashed was no accident. It had been deliberate. 

The Black Knight thrown from its horse became his next target. It struggled to rise, but its movements were slow and clumsy, as if weighed down by an invisible burden. 

Rehanna noticed something else. Along the edges of its black armor, tiny golden sparks flickered continuously, as though it were being burned. This was no ordinary fire, nor elemental flame. It was the pure radiance of holy power—the kind one only felt within a sacred temple. 

Could it be… he was a Templar Knight passing through on a mission? But someone so young, not even twenty, a Templar Knight? 

Shock rippled through her. 

The influence of the Mother Goddess’ temple had withdrawn from Demont Province two years ago due to its fierce conflict with the archduke. Could they be returning at last? Yet his attire was far less ornate than that of a Templar Knight. And the sheer force of his attacks surpassed any she had ever witnessed. The wild, brutal greatsword in his hands bore no resemblance to the standardized weapons of the order. 

Nolan, however, had no awareness of her thoughts. His focus remained entirely on his enemy. Without slowing, he charged forward across the field of shattered bones. As he closed in on the fallen Black Knight, his core twisted sharply, driving his body into a powerful spinning slash. 

The Black Knight barely managed to prop itself up. The soul-fire in its eye sockets flared wildly as it poured all remaining dark magic into its enchanted blade. It unleashed the strongest strike it could muster in its undead existence, meeting Nolan head-on. 

It was futile. 

Under Nolan’s current amplification—his strength magnified nearly fourfold—this blow was neither avoidable nor blockable. 

Clang! 

After a piercing metallic crash, Rehanna felt her entire understanding of the world begin to fracture. The enchanted blade, infused with dark magic and capable of splitting city walls, shattered on impact like fragile glass. She had always believed that a weapon reinforced by magic was unbreakable. 

Nolan’s greatsword, having shattered it, did not slow. With a howl that tore through the air, it cut cleanly through the Black Knight’s shoulder armor and chest plate, slicing straight through its body. 

Expressionless, Nolan seized the knight’s neck with his free hand and slammed its already severed upper body into the ground. Then his right foot, clad in a reinforced arcane iron boot, lifted and came down hard. 

Crack!

The Black Knight’s head, helmet and all, was crushed beneath Nolan’s foot. The last flicker of soul-fire winked out completely. 

Only then did Nolan turn and look toward Rehanna, who was still half-kneeling on the ground. “Are you alright?” 

She stared at him blankly, then nodded. 

Seeing that she was unharmed, Nolan said nothing more and moved on toward the last remaining Black Knight. 

Faced with this terrifying human—one who had slain two of its kind in mere moments—the creature, though incapable of fear, instinctively took a step back. 

At the same time, on the other side of the battlefield— 

Hank, Little Donnie, and Vivi, riding three abreast, had already driven through the skeletal horde like a blade, charging straight toward the enemy’s rear. With the experience from Rosenberg behind them, dealing with these low-tier corpse mages was almost effortless. 

“Stay close!” Hank barked, glancing at Vivi, whose face still carried a trace of tension from her first charge. 

Then he swung his sword forward. 

“Blood Lion’s Fang!” 

A crimson arc of sword energy roared outward, instantly shattering the bone spears just launched by several corpse mages ahead. 

Little Donnie rode alongside him, perfectly in step. The golden ripples Nolan had unleashed moments earlier still lingered, and he could feel his strength surging far beyond its usual limits. 

Holding his blade low at his side, he leaned forward, letting the momentum of his charging horse do the work. The edge of his sword skimmed along in a deadly line, cutting through the skulls of skeleton soldiers in their path. 

Fragments of bone scattered behind him, paving a trail of destruction. 

Vivi’s heart hammered in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. With a smooth motion, she drew the crossbow Nolan had taken from the cultists. Even atop the jolting horse, she cocked it swiftly and fired almost without aiming, relying on instinct. 

Thrum! Thrum! Thrum! 

Three heavy steel bolts shot out in a triangular pattern, striking three corpse mages squarely as they chanted their spells. The force staggered them. One of them, in the middle of casting a second bone spear, had its incantation abruptly interrupted. The backlash of magic twisted inward, forming a small vortex in its chest. Its shriveled torso collapsed violently as the spell consumed it from within. 

Little Donnie’s eyes lit up as he shouted his praise, “Nice shot!” 

He tilted his head to avoid another incoming bone spear, then rode in alongside Hank. Their blades rose and fell in unison. 

The fragile staves of the lesser corpse mages shattered instantly, and their souls dissolved in silent screams. 

Almost at the same moment, at the center of the battlefield, the final Black Knight’s broken body crashed to the ground at Nolan’s feet. 

With their commander destroyed, the soul-fires in every skeleton’s eyes dimmed and vanished at once, leaving behind nothing but lifeless piles of bone. 

“We won!” 

“We’re saved!!” 

The surviving mercenaries raised their swords high, erupting into thunderous cheers. 

The plump merchant dropped to his knees with a thud, tears streaming down his face. Clasping his hands before his chest, he repeated over and over, “Thank you, Sethis! Thank the Mother Goddess!” 

Nolan paid no attention to the celebration around him. He walked over to the remains of one of the Black Knights, nudging aside the shattered, twisted armor with his foot as he searched for something. 

Then he paused. 

On a broken piece of chest armor, he saw a familiar emblem. Two crossed swords, and between them, a skull engraved with the name “Crutel.” 

A glint flashed in Nolan’s eyes as he murmured under his breath, “So it is them.”