"Farewell!" Rynar waved to the centaurs who had escorted them a hundred meters beyond the forest's edge. With Nyx and his knights in tow, he set off on the journey home.
"Aww, I wanted to stay and play for a few more days!" Nyx, riding beside him, sulked as she nuzzled against his chest. As a young, carefree noblewoman with a mischievous nature, she always craved excitement—especially when there was nothing pressing to do, as was often the case with aristocrats.
"Once the kingdom is settled, I'll take you to see all its magnificent rivers and mountains. We'll witness the changing tides of time together!" Rynar, holding the reins in one hand and embracing the beauty in the other, felt as though he'd already reached the pinnacle of life.
Suddenly, the sharp whistle of something cutting through the air rang out.
"Clang!"
Fortunately, Rynar's cautious nature meant he never went anywhere without his divine shield—Aelial! The arrow shattered upon impact, utterly destroyed by the artifact's power. A divine shield was no mere ordinary steel, after all!
"Courting death! Unyielding Spirit!" Rynar activated his shield, sending out a gentle yet firm wave of energy that enveloped his knights, protecting them from negative effects.
"Orcs!" The knights' faces darkened, and they quickly closed ranks, forming a thick steel barrier around Rynar and Nyx.
"Kill them!" Rynar, with one arm occupied holding Nyx, had no way to fight directly. He had no intention of wasting his battle aura on offensive holy magic, either—he knew very well just how powerful his attacks were.
"Your Highness, stay safe! Reinforcements will arrive shortly!" The lead knight, unwilling to engage recklessly, prioritized protecting their king and future queen. Their failure to prevent this ambush on home soil filled him with both fury and shame.
If not for Rynar's quick reaction, he might have been assassinated like others before him. If that had happened, every one of these knights would have committed seppuku on the spot to atone for their failure.
"Loose arrows!" The enraged knight commander waved his hand. If those orcs wanted an archery battle, so be it! Precision? Who cared?
They had plenty of arrows! Plenty of armor! Let the orcs try to shoot through that! Meanwhile, their own armor-piercing bolts would tear through those filthy mongrels like paper!
"Vwoom!"
"Thwang!"
"Clang, clang, clang!"
The battlefield echoed like a chaotic symphony, and Rynar could hardly believe his eyes.
Who would have thought that a battle between knights and orcs could turn into such a ridiculous spectacle? The knights couldn't pierce the orcs' hides, and the orcs couldn't hit a single knight!
Peering through a gap in his shield, Rynar exchanged a helpless glance with Nyx. Their faces screamed disbelief.
"Your Highness… I think our knights might need some archery training. What do you think?" Nyx carefully studied Rynar's face, which had darkened like a storm cloud.
"You are absolutely right, my dear Duchess! They are in dire need of it!" Rynar's voice was ice-cold, his embarrassment and frustration plain to see.
Hearing his words, the knights stiffened, hastening their attacks—only for their accuracy to decline even further.
"Can you not aim properly?!" Rynar finally snapped, watching in exasperation as supposedly straight shots somehow turned into high arcs.
Who in their right mind shot an arrow that veered off by hundreds of meters?! Which one of these knights was responsible for that? What a prodigy!
"Enough! Let's wait for reinforcements!" Rynar sighed in exhaustion. His knights' performance had thoroughly shattered his expectations.
Looking at the orcs lying dead on the ground, he could swear there weren't more than five—yet the forest around them was riddled with hundreds of arrows! Some orcs had even started picking up the knights' arrows and shooting them back!
Rynar plucked a stray bolt that had landed near his shield and examined it with a deadpan expression.
"Excellent work, gentlemen! I have just been struck by one of our own armor-piercing arrows! What's the matter?
Afraid the enemy ran out of arrows, so you decided to send them more?" He shrugged and tucked the bolt away—after all, even a prosperous city like Rapidstream couldn't afford to waste supplies like this.
"Oh, how I miss the Battanian archers!" Rynar sighed, suddenly longing for those savage yet skilled warriors. They may have been unruly and crude, but at least they were professionals. A mere ten of them could have taken out this small orc raiding party in under five minutes.
"Ugh… Someone, please put an end to this madness!" Rynar groaned, the sound of arrows bouncing off armor filling him with despair. He should have let the centaurs escort him back! Now, stuck in this godforsaken place with these fools, he felt nothing but misery.
The knights were equally miserable. They would have loved nothing more than to charge in and skewer the orcs on their lances, but with both the king and duchess present, they dared not take the risk. Holding the line was their only option.
…
Less than ten minutes later, salvation arrived.
Kaldor exhaled a massive ball of azure energy, which detonated upon impact, unleashing a storm of wind blades that tore through the forest, reducing it to rubble.
"A sub-forbidden spell? Breath of the Wind Whisperer?" Rynar's eyes widened. That meant Kaldo had reached the peak of youth! Which also meant… Caslow had advanced alongside his dragon!
"Congratulations, Dragon Knight General! You're one step closer to Dragon Knight Marshal!" Rynar grinned. Indeed, Caslow had silently ascended to the fifth tier!
The speed at which dragon knights grew was simply monstrous. They had once agreed to stay at tier three together, but one by one, they had left him behind.
Even Thorin was likely at tier four now, especially with the Arkenstone granting him an invaluable cultivation boost. He was probably on the verge of reaching tier five as well.
Rynar sighed deeply.
"I apologize, Your Highness! We arrived too late to rescue you!" Caslow was filled with guilt.
"It's fine! You came just in time. Any later, and they would have wasted a few hundred more of my arrows…" Rynar rubbed his temples, his headache compounded by the thought of all the wasted resources. So much money down the drain!
"Er… They're just not very skilled at archery…" Caslow tried to defend the knights.
The knights all looked at him with grateful eyes, as if he were their savior and second father.
"No need to defend them. This is the first time I've ever seen knights fail this miserably at hitting stationary targets. My horizons have truly been expanded today!" Rynar declared, finally understanding the meaning of fate—whether they hit or missed was completely up to luck.
"Uh…" Caslow was speechless.
"Wait a bit longer, Your Highness. The rest of the knight regiment will arrive soon!" Caslow quickly changed the subject. When the magic flare had gone up, everyone had been on edge. He had simply arrived first—Omsk was leading the main forces at full speed.
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