The Devouring Knight

On the far side of the battlefield, where steel clashed like thunder and the strongest warriors fought shoulder to shoulder, Lumberling carved a path forward. His spear pierced and swept with sharp precision, every strike cutting down an enemy and keeping the line from breaking. His aura spread like a shield, steadying the men around him.

Then, he froze.

A new presence washed over the battlefield. It wasn't just strong, it was suffocating, like a mountain pressing down on his chest.

Through the chaos, a lone rider advanced. Soldiers parted unconsciously, giving way as if instinct itself demanded it. The man sat tall upon his horse, his aura blazing like fire.

The Sengolio troops roared in unison, their voices shaking the air.

"Commander Kaizen! All hail Commander Kaizen!"

The commander reined in his horse, his cold gaze sweeping across the field. Slowly, he dismounted, each step deliberate, carrying the weight of someone who had walked through countless battles. At his side, he drew his weapon, a katana that gleamed cold beneath the storm-darkened sky.

The ground itself seemed to tense.

And then, without another word, the two closed the distance.

Their auras crashed first, invisible storms colliding. Dust and ash whipped into the air, soldiers stumbling back, too afraid to even breathe near them.

Lumberling's body answered on instinct. His aura burst outward, mana flooding every vein and muscle. He tightened his grip on his spear, his killing intent sharpening to a single edge. With no hesitation, he unleashed his strongest strike, a deadly weave of three spear skills, bound together into one overwhelming thrust.

The ground split open as he moved, cracks tearing through stone and dirt. The wind screamed like a living beast, carrying his spear forward with unstoppable force.

But Kaizen met it with a single stroke. His katana moved so fast it was little more than a flash of light.

Steel met steel, and the world shook. The sound was like thunder ripping across the battlefield, the shockwave kicking up dust and staggering soldiers who had dared to watch. Lumberling's mighty strike, his strongest skill woven into one, was split apart as if it were nothing more than paper.

The recoil rattled through his arms. Lumberling staggered back a step, his spear quivering in his grip. His hands throbbed with pain, numbed from the force of the clash.

His jaw tightened. His chest rose and fell as he steadied his breath, eyes locked on the calm figure before him.

'He blocked it… with one strike.'

The realization pressed down heavier than the enemy's aura itself. His ultimate move, something that could fell an army had been brushed aside with frightening ease.

Lumberling's grip tightened around his spear, the wood creaking faintly under his hand. His mind raced.

'I can't beat him… not alone.'

The thought echoed, bitter but clear. His only choice was to call for Skitz.

But before the thought became action, another force tore into the battlefield.

A sharp aura cut through the air like a blade, fast and violent. Soldiers turned, shielding their eyes as the pressure slammed into them. Then, in a blink, a crescent slash of energy screamed across the field. It met Kaizen's katana with a ringing crash, the impact strong enough to force the Knight Commander to take a single step back.

Lumberling's eyes snapped to the side. A man strolled into the fray, twin katanas resting on his shoulders.

"Yo, Lord Lumberling," Daigo called out with a wide grin, his twin blades resting easily on his shoulders. "Looks like you're in a tight spot."

"Sir Daigo?" Lumberling's eyes widened, surprise flashing across his face. "Why are you here?"

Daigo twirled one of his katanas. "We felt strong auras gathering. Lucian figured you'd run into trouble, so he sent me to back you up."

"What about the Legate?" Lumberling pressed.

Daigo's smirk turned sharper. "Lucian's taking him head-on."

A frown creased Lumberling's brow. His thoughts raced, Silas hadn't been mentioned. Weren't the three of them supposed to fight together?

Daigo seemed to catch it from his look alone. His grin eased into a confident smile.

"Relax. Silas is on the field too, but he's in seclusion. He's breaking through to Knight Stage Three. Once he succeeds, the tide of this battle will shift in our favor."

Lumberling's eyes widened at the words, then narrowed as a small laugh slipped out.

'Damn these children of luck… copying me now, huh? Though mine was on a smaller scale.'

The tension in his shoulders loosened. He lifted his spear, his expression steadier now.

"Alright then," he said with a nod. "I'll leave this one to you."

Without wasting another second, Lumberling dashed toward the heart of Lucian's battered army. The clash of steel and screams of dying men filled the air, but one presence loomed above the rest, no, two.

Ahead, two enemy commanders tore through the lines like reapers in a field, their blades and shields cutting down soldiers as if they were nothing but grass. Even before Lumberling reached them, he could feel the weight of their power pressing down on the battlefield. Both carried the aura of Knight Stage Two.

…

In the midst of the chaos, a dozen Quasi-Knights from Lucian's side drew together. Bloodied and breath ragged, but unwilling to run, they raised their weapons. Their comrades were being slaughtered, retreat was no longer an option.

They closed in around the two commanders, circling them like hunters desperate to corner a pair of wild beasts. Hands trembled on hilts, yet their eyes burned with resolve. They knew the odds, but still they stepped forward.

"Now! Together!" one of them shouted, and four Quasi-Knights surged forward.

The shield-bearing commander moved with terrifying speed. He raised his massive shield, and the charge slammed uselessly against its steel face. Sparks burst, blades slid, and yet the shield did not move an inch.

A deep growl rolled from his throat, a sound so heavy it made their knees tremble.

And before they could recover, the second commander moved. His spear blurred into a silver arc, too fast for their eyes to follow.

Shhk!

In the blink of an eye, the four Quasi-Knights were cut clean in half, their bodies falling apart before their shocked comrades.

The remaining Knights staggered back, eyes wide in horror.

"They… they just died like that?" one stammered.

"This is impossible… we can't fight them!" another cried, panic breaking through his voice.

The shield commander stepped forward, his grin spreading behind the black visor of his helm. His voice was like gravel, low and cruel.

"This isn't nearly enough. Is there truly no one among you who can fight well?"

"Here he is."

The words rang out from behind the commander. A shadow lunged forward, Lumberling. His spear thrust came like lightning, aimed straight at the black-armored giant's chest.

Alarm flared in the commander's eyes. He slammed his shield down and roared, "Stone Shield!"

In an instant, his entire body hardened, his armor thickening as if he had become a living fortress.

Steel met stone with an ear-splitting crash. The force shook the earth, a shockwave ripping through the battlefield. Soldiers on both sides staggered, dust and dirt blasting into the air.

Then… 'crack.'

The shield commander's eyes widened. He felt it. A hairline fracture running across his defense.

'No… impossible.'

"Garron!" the spear-wielding commander bellowed, his voice sharp with urgency. His own aura erupted, filling the field with a crushing weight. He stepped in beside his ally, spear glowing with power.

'Vortex Thrust!'

His weapon blurred, thrusting again and again in a storm of piercing strikes, each faster than the last.

Lumberling ripped his spear free from the fractured shield and turned. His body moved with instinct, his weapon spinning into a wide sweep. The spear's arc sang through the air, deflecting one thrust after another, the impact ringing like steel drums in the chaos.

Gasps erupted from the battered line of Quasi-Knights who had survived.

"What… what just happened?" one of them stammered, his voice shaking. "How did the two commanders get pushed back?"

Another Knight swallowed hard, his grip on his blade tightening. "That strike… he stopped them both…"

Lumberling's voice cut through their disbelief, calm but carrying like a command.

"Retreat from here, Knights. This is a battle you cannot fight."

The Quasi-Knights hesitated, eyes burning with shame. "But Lord Lumberling, we will help you! We can at least slow them down!" one shouted desperately.

Lumberling turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze silencing them more than any shout could. "No. If you stay, you'll die pointlessly. Your blades are needed elsewhere. Command the soldiers, that is where your strength matters most. Leave these two to me."

The weight of his words pressed on them, and though it pained them, the Quasi-Knights slowly pulled back, forming up to rally the shaken soldiers of House Arden.

Lumberling exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he faced the two commanders alone. His spear angled low, steady in his grip, his eyes scanning them with razor focus.

'From that clash… both are mid-level Knight Stage Two. This is going to be tough.'

Across from him, Garron, the shield bearer narrowed his eyes, his stone-like armor groaning faintly where cracks remained. "A Knight One… pushing back my shield?"

Beside him, the spear commander Serik kept his weapon ready, his gaze sharp and unshaken. "Don't underestimate him. Even if his stage is lower than ours… he can match us."

The air between them trembled, the three warriors measuring one another, the battlefield pausing for the storm about to come.

The silence shattered.

Serik lunged first, his spear splitting the air with frightening speed, a storm of thrusts meant to overwhelm. Lumberling met him head-on, his own spear weaving in a sharp arc, deflecting and slipping between strikes like a serpent. Sparks sprayed as their weapons scraped.

But before he could counter, Garron surged in, shield raised high. He slammed it forward with the force of a boulder, forcing Lumberling back a step.

Lumberling's eyes narrowed, his foresight already pulling threads of their intent. His feet shifted, half a breath before Serik's next thrust aimed for his ribs, he twisted, letting the spear graze past him. His counter came instantly, a sharp jab at Serik's shoulder.

The commander grunted as the strike skimmed his armor, but Garron was already there, his shield snapping into place to block the follow-up.

'Their timing… it's perfect,' Lumberling thought, teeth clenched. His style flowed unpredictably, one moment sharp and direct, the next sudden and unorthodox, his spear whipping from impossible angles. Every clash left small cuts on their armor, small openings found by his foresight.

Yet, every time he pressed one commander, the other was there to cover. Serik's spear and Garron's shield worked like twin fangs, one to strike, the other to defend.

Serik feinted right, Garron slammed left. Their rhythm was relentless, the battlefield ringing with the sound of steel and shield clashing against Lumberling's sweeping spear.

Even with his speed, even with his foresight, even with his stronger strikes, Lumberling could feel it. Against one of them, he could dominate. But against both, their combined strength and perfect coordination dragged him into a storm where even his unpredictability struggled to break free.

Still, his grip only tightened. His eyes sharpened.

'If I can't break them apart… I'll find the weakness inside their unity.'