The Devouring Knight

Moments earlier before the elves descended.

On the blood-soaked battlefield, where steel clashed and mana tore through the air, Lucian stood shoulder to shoulder with his comrades, Silas and Daigo. The three of them faced the Legate.

The Legate held his spear loosely, the weapon humming with restrained power. His eyes glowed faintly scanning the three before him as if deciding which to kill first.

Daigo spat to the side, his breath ragged, his twin blades trembling in his hands. "This guy's a damn monster…"

Lucian didn't reply. His aura flared instead, pushing back against the crushing weight of the Legate's presence. Behind them, Silas's hands glowed faintly as he struggled to cast a healing spell, his fingers shaking, sweat running down his face. It was rare for an assassin to even know healing magic, but even that wasn't enough to close their wounds.

Then Daigo drew a deep breath and slammed one blade into the ground. Mana burst from him like a storm breaking loose.

"Twin Katana Domain!"

The earth cracked beneath him, wind slashing outward as two crescent arcs of pure aura formed in the air. For a brief moment, Daigo's presence grew wild. He lunged forward, blades flashing like lightning. Each strike carried intent to kill.

Clang!

Clash!

Crack!

Daigo moved faster and faster. Every swing pushed his body past its limit, his veins glowing faintly with mana, his arms trembling but refusing to stop. His aura grew thicker, until even Lucian felt the surge.

"Daigo…" Lucian muttered, eyes narrowing. "He's forcing a breakthrough."

Daigo gritted his teeth, roaring as his blades blazed with light. "If I don't surpass myself now, we're all dead!"

He struck again, one blade from the left, the other from above, forcing the Legate to deflect both with precise, effortless motions. Yet this time, a small cut appeared across the Legate's armor. A thin line. But a cut nonetheless.

Silas's eyes widened. "He actually…"

"Don't celebrate yet," Lucian warned.

Because the Legate finally moved.

He raised his spear, the air instantly shifting. The oppressive calm returned, then broke.

"Impressive," the Legate said quietly. "But still not enough."

In the next instant, a blur of motion. The Legate's spear struck faster than sight, sending Daigo flying back with a thunderous crash. The shockwave rippled across the battlefield, kicking up dirt and blood.

Lucian dashed forward to intercept the next strike, but even his speed couldn't match the Legate's precision.

"Lucian!" Silas shouted… too late.

The spear twisted, sweeping Lucian aside and sending him skidding across the ground.

Daigo coughed blood, struggling to stand. His aura, now blazing at the Peak of Knight Stage Two, flickered like a dying flame.

He lifted his blades again, defiance burning in his eyes. "Not… yet…"

The Legate stepped forward, calm as ever, though he found him interesting. "Show me the weight of your resolve."

With a roar, Daigo charged. His blades flashed in a furious storm, each swing carrying everything he had left, his strength, his rage, his will to live.

But the Legate's next move shattered that storm completely.

A single strike.

A single flash of crimson.

And it was over.

Both Daigo and Lucian were sent crashing to the ground, their weapons scattered across the bloodied earth.

The Legate's spear stilled, and silence followed.

Lucian and Daigo lay battered on the ground, their weapons shattered, their auras flickering weakly. Dust and blood filled the air. The soldiers who had survived the earlier clash stood frozen, unable to breathe beneath the Legate's suffocating presence.

Then, amidst the chaos, Silas took a trembling step forward.

His robes were torn, his hands shaking, but his eyes… burned with resolve.

"Not yet," he muttered, his voice low but firm. "I'm… not letting them die here."

The Legate turned his gaze toward him. "You still stand? Admirable, but foolish."

Silas didn't answer. He closed his eyes. His breathing slowed. The battlefield's noise faded away.

'Calm your heart. Focus your intent.'

He recalled every lesson, every failure, every desperate moment that brought him here. His mana surged, raw and unstable, but his will anchored it. The air shimmered as his aura condensed into a single, razor-sharp presence.

Then, Silas whispered, "Phantom Requiem."

The world shifted.

Dozens of afterimages suddenly burst around the Legate, each one a perfect copy of Silas, their eyes cold and blades drawn, movements synchronized. Their combined killing intent hit like a wave, suffocating even the Legate for an instant.

From all sides, they attacked.

Slash!

Strike!

Cut!

The Legate parried, twisted, and deflected each blow with precision, but the images multiplied faster than he could strike. Every phantom moved as if alive, each one striking from a different direction.

"Illusions?" The Legate frowned

The afterimages lunged in unison, each swing creating sparks as their blades clashed with the Legate's spear. Though only one was real, the weight of Silas's killing will made them all feel tangible.

Lucian stirred weakly, watching from the ground. "Silas… what are you…"

Daigo coughed blood but smiled faintly. "He's… breaking through his skills again."

Silas kept moving, faster and faster. His real body flickered between phantoms, striking from impossible angles. One blow sliced the Legate's shoulder armor, another grazed his thigh. Tiny wounds, but they were there.

The Legate chuckled lowly, blocking another phantom strike. "So this is your limit?" He parried again, sparks flying. "You think a swarm of tricks can stop me?"

Silas met his gaze, teeth clenched, sweat dripping down his face. "Maybe not," he growled, "but we're not just going to lie down and die."

He charged again, phantoms converging with him.

Then, gradually… the tempo slowed.

Silas's movements grew sluggish. His phantoms began to fade, one by one, disappearing into motes of mana. His chest heaved, his skin was pale. The ground beneath him cracked as his remaining mana burned out.

The Legate flicked his spear aside, knocking away the last phantom, then turned his weapon toward the real Silas.

"You fought well," the Legate said coldly. "But courage doesn't change fate."

The spear flashed.

Boom!

The explosion of force sent Silas flying backward, his body skidding across the dirt before coming to a stop beside Lucian and Daigo.

All three of them lay motionless, barely conscious, the ground around them scorched and broken.

The Legate let out a slow breath, lowering his spear. "So these are the famed heroes of the Pentaline Empire?" he murmured, his tone cold and disappointed. "Pathetic."

But then, he froze.

His head turned sharply toward the distance. His eyes narrowed.

A wave of power surged from afar.

At the same time, the Legate's soldiers began to stir in confusion. Then panic.

"Wh-What's happening?!" a Knight shouted as frost crept along the ground beneath his feet.

"Something's coming!" another cried out.

The Legate's grip tightened on his spear. He could already feel it, strong auras approaching, and chaos spreading through his ranks.

He looked toward the direction of the energy surge, toward Lumberling's side.