Leon stood firmly on the battlefield, his silver spear clutched tightly in his hands, watching as a horde of Lizardmen charged toward him. His heart pounded against his chest, sweat forming on his brow despite the cool wind. He tightened his grip, bracing himself for the fight.
Suddenly, he heard a calm voice from his right.
"Don't be nervous. The Lizardmen charging ahead—most of them will be mowed down by the spells from the warlocks and mages at the back."
Leon glanced sideways at the slightly older man standing beside him. The man's voice was steady, and his expression carried the calmness of someone familiar with battle.
Leon swallowed and muttered, "This is my first battle."
Before the man could respond, blinding flashes of light erupted behind them.
Leon turned his head and saw fireballs, chains of thunder, ice spears, and earth bullets streaking through the air. The mages and warlocks positioned at the rear unleashed a wave of devastation, their spells illuminating the battlefield.
The front line of Lizardmen were torn apart, their bodies blown to pieces or frozen mid-charge, while others were reduced to scorched husks. Yet, despite the onslaught, some Lizardmen survived, weaving through the barrage of spells, their scaled bodies resistant to some of the elemental attacks.
Leon's eyes widened in nervousness as he saw several of them rushing toward his line. His hands began to tremble slightly. Without thinking, he released his blood energy, coating his silver spear in a crimson glow. The bronze tip gleamed with a menacing luster as his blood energy infused it.
As a Lizardman closed in, Leon reacted on instinct. With a quick thrust, he stabbed forward.
From the tip of his spear, a bronze cone-shaped burst of energy shot out, piercing through the Lizardman's belly. Blood splattered the ground as the creature let out a guttural snarl. It stumbled forward, clutching the gaping hole in its abdomen, then collapsed and died.
For a brief moment, elation surged through Leon's chest—his first kill in a large-scale battle.
But the feeling was short-lived.
He suddenly felt his blood energy drain sharply. When he glanced at his spiritual space, he realized that 5% of his blood energy had been consumed by that single move. His heart sank.
"Damn it…" he cursed under his breath.
He had acted on reflex, using his innate spell—Bronze Cone—without thinking. Unlike warlocks, mages, or priests, blood knights like him paid a far heavier price for using spells. Each cast consumed three times the energy of regular spellcasters.
His hands trembled slightly as he gritted his teeth in frustration.
Before he could dwell on his mistake, another Lizardman charged at him, its claws gleaming with a faint green hue—poison-coated.
Leon quickly snapped out of his thoughts. He twirled his spear, blood energy swirling around the shaft, and launched forward.
"Snake Drill!"
His spear rotated at blinding speed, becoming a blur of crimson and silver. With precision and force, he pierced through the Lizardman's heart, the spear tip bursting out of its back. The creature let out a shriek, coughed up blood, and slumped lifelessly to the ground.
Leon exhaled sharply, his chest heaving from the exertion.
Before he could catch his breath, another Lizardman pounced toward him. He spun around, prepared to fight again, but before he could strike, the man he had spoken with earlier appeared at his side.
Without a word, the man thrust his blade into the Lizardman's neck, silencing it instantly. Blood gushed from the wound as the creature crumpled at their feet.
Leon blinked, slightly surprised.
Fighting side by side, they made short work of the Lizardmen, cutting them down swiftly. With the man's help, Leon didn't even need to use his combat technique for the next few enemies.
The battlefield raged on, the air thick with the smell of blood and the sharp tang of metal. Screams, roars, and the clash of steel filled the surroundings, but Leon's focus remained sharp.
With every strike, his movements became smoother, his footwork steadier. His spearmanship flowed with growing confidence. The nervous trembling from earlier vanished, replaced by a fierce determination. His strikes were now precise and deadly, and he no longer flinched at the sight of blood.
After cutting down another Lizardman, Watt Greene, the man fighting beside him, glanced over and spoke.
"Nice fighting. You're blood, huh? You shouldn't use your spells unless necessary."
Leon wiped a streak of blood from his cheek and nodded slightly.
"Yes, sir. This was my first battle, and… I was nervous."
Watt let out a low chuckle, a knowing glimmer in his eyes.
"I understand. First battles are always rough. I was nervous, too, my first time."
He gave Leon a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then added, "I'm Watt Greene."
Leon, sensing the camaraderie in his tone, introduced himself.
"I am Leon Breaceus."
The two shared a brief glance before diving back into the fray, their weapons flashing under the blood moon's light.
Together, they cut through three more Lizardmen, their coordination improving with every swing. Watt's blade moved in sharp, fluid arcs, while Leon's spear drilled through the scales and flesh of their enemies. The Lizardmen's blood splattered the ground as they fell one by one.
After slashing through the neck of the last Lizardman, Watt glanced at Leon and asked,
"What rank is your blood?"
Leon, his breathing steady despite the exertion, replied,
"Middle-rank—Bronze Rhino."
Watt let out a low whistle, deflecting a Lizardman's strike with a swift parry.
"Bronze Rhino, huh?" he muttered, sidestepping and slashing the Lizardman across the chest. The creature let out a guttural cry before collapsing. Without turning to face Leon, Watt added,
"Then it'll be difficult for you to advance to the higher-ranked realm."
Leon grimaced slightly but nodded. He was already aware of the challenge.
As two more Lizardmen lunged at them, the pair split, each taking on one opponent.
Leon clashed fiercely with the Lizardman before him, parrying its claws with his spear. The creature hissed, slashing with feral speed, but Leon's strikes were calculated and firm, driving it back with steady, practiced thrusts.
While exchanging blows, Leon spoke through gritted teeth,
"I have no choice… I was born with the blood."
There were two ways to become a blood knight. One could either combine their blood with the blood essence of a warcraft, forging a bond through a ritual, or, like Leon, they could inherit the bloodline from a parent or ancestor. Those born with blood had no say in their fate, awakening their blood by sheer luck.
The advantage of a blood knight was the rapid advancement in cultivation. Their bodies grew stronger at twice the speed of ordinary cultivators—sometimes even faster, depending on their blood's rank and quality. However, the price for this rapid growth was steep.
Once they reached the limit of their blood's rank, they faced a heaven-defying obstacle—advancing to the next realm became incredibly difficult. The stronger the blood, the more formidable the bottleneck. Many blood knights spent decades stuck at their blood limit, unable to break through.
Yet, despite this challenge, people still sought out blood cultivation, even in the current dire circumstances. The immense speed of their growth often made up for the eventual stagnation. In this time of war, faster advancement meant greater survival.
Watt, now fighting alongside Leon once more, glanced at him between strikes and spoke,
"No need to worry." He sliced through another Lizardman's throat with a clean stroke, then turned back to Leon with a faint smile.
"The group will help you find a way when your realm or strength stops growing."
The battle raged on, the once-clear sky now thick with blood and smoke, and the ground beneath Leon's feet was slick with blood and trampled corpses. Yet, he didn't stop. His movements were relentless, his spear flashing as he pushed ahead, cutting down one Lizardman after another.
By now, noon had come, but the fighting showed no signs of stopping. The roar of spells, clashing steel, and death cries echoed across the battlefield without pause.
Nearby, Watt Greene fought with practiced ease, his sword cutting through Lizardmen with efficient, fluid strikes. However, even as he fought, his eyes occasionally drifted toward Leon, who was recklessly pushing forward, battling one Lizardman after another with no regard for his own safety.
Watt let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly. He quickly moved forward, slashing through a Lizardman that had nearly overwhelmed Leon. With a swift, clean strike, he cut down Leon's immediate enemy, saving him from a near-fatal blow.
Before Leon could rush ahead again, Watt reached out and grabbed his arm, firmly holding him back.
"Why are you doing this?" Watt asked, his voice low but firm, his eyes searching Leon's face.
Leon, breathing heavily, glanced at him with a slightly puzzled expression, sweat and blood streaking his face.
"To win the battle," he replied, his voice steady but filled with conviction.
Watt's brows furrowed slightly. With a weary sigh, he gripped Leon's wrist tighter, forcing him to stay still.
"Our battle here won't decide the outcome of this fight," Watt said, his voice calm but serious.
Leon's eyes narrowed slightly, confused.
"Why?" he asked, his tone laced with uncertainty.
Watt simply tilted his head upward.
"Look up," he instructed.
Leon, still breathing hard, followed Watt's gaze. His eyes widened slightly as he looked into the sky above the battlefield.
High above the clouds, bursts of elemental energy illuminated the sky. Flickers of fire, arcs of lightning, and whirling gales clashed violently, tearing through the clouds and sending ripples of destructive force outward. The clouds were split apart by the sheer might of the combatants, making their figures faintly visible through the haze.
Leon's eyes fixed on the two figures locked in an aerial battle, their movements swift and deadly. Spells clashed with terrifying force, sending shockwaves that could be felt even from the ground.
"Commander…" Leon muttered softly, his eyes locked on the figure battling in the clouds.
Even from a distance, he could recognize the familiar streak of a massive wind blade—Sky Sword Spell—Kanoru's signature spell, clashing with the opposing commander's elemental attacks.
"Commander is fighting against the enemy commander," Leon said in realization, his voice tinged with awe.
Watt nodded grimly, his eyes still fixed on the sky.
"Yes." His voice was low and steady, laced with a calm acceptance of the situation.
"That battle will decide the outcome. Whether we win or lose."
Leon's grip on his spear tightened slightly, his gaze still locked on the titanic clash above.
"Then… what are we doing here?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and a hint of frustration.
Watt finally turned back to Leon, his expression calm but resolute.
"Thinning their numbers," he replied simply.
Before Leon could respond, a loud, guttural roar echoed across the battlefield. They turned their attention forward, watching as another wave of Lizardmen surged toward them, their clawed feet pounding the blood-soaked ground.
The horde charged once more, their eyes wild with bloodlust, their weapons glinting under the dim, red moonlight.
Leon and Watt exchanged a brief glance, their eyes filled with silent understanding. Without a word, they readied their weapons once more. The brief moment of reflection was over—there was no time for hesitation.
The Lizardmen horde surged toward them, their wild howls filling the air. Leon's grip on his spear tightened, and Watt stepped forward, his sword gleaming under the dim, blood-red light. With grim resolve, they charged into battle once again.
---
Far above the battlefield, Kanoru floated in the storm-filled sky, his black cloak billowing around him, torn at the edges by the violent winds surging around him. His eyes narrowed, locked on his enemy—a pale woman with a third eye on her forehead and a broken, tattered umbrella in her hand. Her ashen skin seemed almost translucent under the faint red moonlight, and her crimson lips curled into a cruel smirk.
Without hesitation, Kanoru's hands flashed, and with a sharp wave, two swords of elemental energy appeared, one engulfed in fire, the other swirling with ice. With a slight motion, he crossed his arms, and the two elemental forces intertwined.
In his mind, he thought:
"Twin Dragon Drill."