Chapter 210 - Volume 2
Chapter 155 – Breaking Dawn (8)
============== Raban’s POV ==============
A bright light shot straight into the air and illuminated the vast land, originating from the ruins near the southern inner gate. The varying intensity of the light made it appear ethereal.
Raban, the commander of the Firebrand Mercenaries, wore an aloof expression. His rippling muscles gave him a hard rigid outline that kept dancing from the light. He was a massive man who wielded a greatsword with a carved devil for a hilt, standing motionlessly in the night. His gaze was not on the light but the scenery outside the city.
The darkness seemed to form a black line over the horizon, and the night fog had created a thin mist in between the city and the forest. It seemed like nothing was out of the ordinary, but there was a constant shuffling sound of leaves being swept up by thousands of footsteps moving rhythmically.
The oddity of the inhuman noises was terrifying enough for one to feel like they came from hell.
A large army was moving towards the city.
Raban was not Aouine’s knight. He was formerly part of Karsuk’s forces; a retired cavalryman who had fought against Madara, but he acted like a knight to gain an advantage over the other mercenaries.
“The inciter and instigator, you meant to say,” Medissa shouted as she raised her lance, but her opponent was even faster than she was. She had barely begun to urge her unicorn forward when he had already swung his scythe forward.
A dark beam of energy shot towards her.
She immediately shifted her unicorn’s direction, but the edge of the blast had reached her. Her armor pieces immediately exploded with light as they fended off the blow, causing a blast of powerful wind to spread in all directions. The mercenaries near her stumbled backward.
She released a soft groan as she received considerable damage from it.
“Your Soul Energy is very impressive. As expected from an Elven Spirit—”
Iamas raised his hand as he spoke. The squadron of Bonethorn Skeletons took out their bone spears and entered into an attacking stance. The mercenaries who had lost their footings were in no condition to defend against their strikes properly. Medissa, who was still trying to recover from the damage, instantly panicked when she realized the situation they were in.
“Stop—” She said through gritted teeth.
Iamas’s hand lowered mercilessly.
The air vibrated and whistled as rows of bone spears flew towards them, the noise echoing through the vicinity.
Her panic turned into determination.
“Ptyoona!” She roared in ancient Elven, as she released the spell ‘Spirit Wings.’
Her voice pierced through the entire battlefield, creating countless Soul Fire to emerge around her before it spread out with blinding speed into a gigantic pair of wings. A translucent web of crystalline hexagons filled up the entire street in the blink of an eye. The bone spears fell like rain from the sky smashed into the shield, reverberating loudly as they tried to force their way through, but it continued to hold up and ultimately turned them into ashes.
The mercenaries looked up in shock as the light brightened their faces, but they quickly realized they were saved.
Iamas looked on calmly, his golden irises shimmering: “An ancient technique from the Silver Elves—”
He smiled as he laid his scythe horizontally across his mount.
Medissa had no protection once the Soul Fire extended outwards—