Dieder came to a halt, turning to gaze down at the forest at the foot of the mountain. A flicker of hesitation crossed his weathered face. As a knight of the Holy Grace Church, he had served the faith faithfully for forty long years. Devoted to the Church's teachings and the guidance of the sacred Mana, he had fought countless battles to defend its doctrines. Even within the Holy Grace Church, Dieder was a knight of considerable renown and power—so much so that rumors whispered he might one day ascend to the position of Grand Master of Knights.
And Dieder was no mere human. He was a half-elf, his elven blood gifting him with ageless vitality. Though he was well over sixty years old, he still looked no different from a man in his thirties. Clad in gleaming silver armor, he stood halfway up the mountainside, his brow furrowed as he stared at the mist-shrouded forest below. Noticing their leader's unease, the others behind him also stopped in their tracks, casting curious glances his way.
"My lord, what is it?" a robed priest panted, following Dieder's gaze but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He looked up at the knight, hoping for an explanation.
But Dieder's expression remained tense, his eyes still fixed on the forest below. Only after a long moment of silence did he speak, his voice calm and steady.
"We have company."
"Huh?"
At his words, everyone froze in surprise. This was the deepest heart of the Duskwood—who on earth could possibly be here?
"Who—who are they?" someone stammered.
"Ten High-Tier Swordsmen, one Mid-Tier Swordsman, and nine Low-Tier swordsmen..." Dieder replied, pausing briefly. For a knight of his caliber, judging an opponent's strength by their aura was second nature. He could sense it clearly—these people were following directly in their wake, and their movements were far from accidental. Judging by their auras and their trajectory, they were deliberately heading straight for them.
Dieder's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He waved a hand, signaling his men to halt their advance, then turned back to stare at the forest below, his face a mask of grim silence.
"My lord, what should we—"
"Do not make a move," Dieder interrupted, glancing at the priest beside him and shaking his head. He had no idea who these intruders were. True, their combined strength was formidable, and their direction of travel made it clear they were not here by chance. So who were they? Did they share the same goal as his party in this forest? If his suspicions were correct, then who exactly were they?
Dieder's brow arched slightly as he considered the possibilities.
The Mage's Guild? No, that didn't make sense. The Guild rarely employed swordsmen, let alone a contingent this large of High-Tier fighters. This was definitely not the work of the Mages.
Could it be... the royal family of West?
The thought made Dieder's eyes widen in surprise. According to intelligence reports, the Kingdom of West was currently scrambling to prepare for the Sith Empire's impending invasion. In the Holy Grace Church's estimation, the royal family would never spare such a large force of elite warriors to venture into a forest at a time like this. Moreover, while Mana sources were valuable, West was no small kingdom lacking in such resources—so why risk so much for this one?
Dieder's fingers drummed against his sword hilt as he fell into deep thought. He had no desire to clash with the royal family at this juncture. After all, this was their land; if hostilities broke out, neither side would emerge with clean hands. Still, his party had arrived first. With his strength as a Holy Grace Knight and the Church's influence, it shouldn't be too difficult to persuade the intruders to leave.
This caution was well-founded. The closer they drew to the Mana source, the stronger the aura of immense power he could sense emanating from its core. If he didn't drive these newcomers away now, they might launch a surprise attack at the worst possible moment—and that was a risk he could not afford to take.
A faint smile tugged at Dieder's lips. He turned to his men and made a sharp hand gesture.
"All units, prepare for battle. We're going to greet our 'friends'."
***
At that very moment, deep within the forest, Blake suddenly came to a stop. He glanced up at the mountain peak looming ahead, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips.
"They've stopped. Looks like they finally sensed our presence... Hmm? Splitting up? Typical. Those fools from the Holy Grace Church never fail to act exactly as I expect them to. I can't decide if they're just rigid or plain stupid."
"Perhaps a bit of both, my lord," Jody replied, tilting her head slightly and adding a light, amused smile to Blake's observation. Her quip drew soft chuckles from the other spectral warriors around them.
"In that case, let's not keep our guests waiting any longer... Protect those poor souls. I'd rather not see any unnecessary casualties in this fight."
"Understood, my lord."
At Blake's command, Jody nodded. A wave of invisible soul energy rippled outward, and the spectral warriors moved silently, changing their positions with practiced precision. They split up, weaving through the trees in a coordinated pattern that quickly formed a protective ring around the Azure Feather Mercenaries. Their movements were so stealthy that not a single person noticed—not even the grizzled old mercenary leader, who was too busy scanning the surrounding forest for threats to pay attention to the subtle shifts in the warriors' positions.
The ground beneath their feet grew increasingly steep.
The lush green grass of the forest floor gave way to dry, cracked rock, and the dense trees thinned out until only a few scattered specimens remained. When Blake led his party out of the forest and into the open, the first things they saw were the clear blue sky above—and a flag fluttering ahead of them, its blue fabric trimmed with a golden border.
And standing not far beyond that flag, a group of fully armed warriors clad in gleaming silver armor.
Holy Grace Church?!
The moment the mercenaries recognized the silver armor and the white-robed priests standing behind the warriors, they froze in shock. They immediately realized that something was terribly wrong. Why else would the Holy Grace Church send forces to this godforsaken corner of the world?
"Greetings, adventurers," a voice called out.
The middle-aged knight standing at the front of the Church's party rested his left hand on his sword hilt, raising his right hand in a formal gesture of greeting. "We are the Third Squadron of the Holy Grace Church's Knights. I am their captain, Holy Grace Knight Dieder Kessel. I regret to inform you that the area ahead is a sacred site of the Church. Due to unforeseen circumstances, it has been placed under complete lockdown. I ask that you turn back immediately."
Dieder's response was masterful. He had introduced himself and his affiliation clearly, subtly reminding the intruders of his authority. By declaring the area a "sacred site," he had given them a legitimate reason to turn back—one that even the most stubborn adventurers would hesitate to defy. Even if these intruders were from the West royal family, they would surely think twice before clashing with a Holy Grace Knight on Church "holy ground." After all, a High-Tier Swordsman was no match for a Knight.
Upon hearing Dieder's words, the mercenaries immediately began to shift uncomfortably. They wanted nothing to do with the Holy Grace Church. The Church wielded immense influence over the common folk, and many mercenaries were devout believers in its teachings. If the Church said the area ahead was sacred, then they had no business trespassing further.
In normal circumstances, the mercenaries would have turned tail and fled without a second thought. But these were not normal circumstances. The one in charge here was not them—it was Blake. Besides, if it weren't for Blake, they would never have made it this far into the Duskwood in the first place. So they turned their eyes to the young noble, who had remained silent since emerging from the forest, waiting for his response.
Blake stepped forward half a pace, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"How interesting. I never knew there was a Holy Grace Church sacred site on my land."
"Young man, who exactly are you?" Dieder's brow furrowed slightly at Blake's words. He asked the question sharply, his tone betraying his growing unease.
Blake simply shrugged his shoulders, his smile never fading. "I am the lord of this Duskwood. And I can assure you, I have never heard of any Holy Grace Church sacred site within my domain."
A lord?
Dieder let out a quiet sigh of relief at this revelation. That made things much easier.
"Lord," Dieder said, his tone softening slightly, "this is an internal matter of the Holy Grace Church. It is only natural that you would know nothing of it. But I swear on my honor as a Holy Grace Knight that every word I have spoken is the truth. If you have any doubts, you may return to the capital and verify this with His Majesty the King."
"Verify?"
Blake's smile twisted into a look of open mockery.
"Do you take me for a fool, sir? Do you think I have no idea what you're really up to here? Even if I went back to verify your claim, what would happen? Given the Holy Grace Church's influence over the common people, do you honestly think the King would dare to oppose you? Oh, I'm sure he'd send a few diplomats to negotiate with your bishops. But by the time they reached an agreement, you would have already cleared this entire area of Aberrations, stationed your guardians here, and built a temple on this land... And by then, it would be far too late to do anything about it. Am I correct?"
Dieder's expression darkened at Blake's words. That was exactly the Church's plan—and yet, it was a strategy known only to a select few within the Holy Grace hierarchy. How could this young lord possibly know about it?
"Regardless of what you may think, Lord," Dieder said stiffly, his hand tightening on his sword hilt, "the area ahead is sacred ground of the Church. I will not allow any unauthorized personnel to set foot within it. If you insist on advancing further, I fear the consequences will be most regrettable for both sides."
As he spoke, Dieder made an almost imperceptible hand gesture to his men, who immediately tensed, readying themselves for battle. The moment Blake had revealed his knowledge of the Church's plan, Dieder had known that this matter could not be resolved peacefully. This young lord understood their tactics far too well to be persuaded to leave. A fight was inevitable.
The mercenaries watched Blake nervously, their faces pale with anxiety. They wanted nothing more than to stay out of the conflict between the Holy Grace Church and this young noble. Blake's earlier words had made it clear that he held the Church in utter contempt—and with his power as a prodigy, he had every right to do so. But his strength did not extend to them. They were just ordinary mercenaries. If they got caught in the crossfire...
With these thoughts swirling in their minds, some of the mercenaries began to edge backward, hoping to put some distance between themselves and the impending fight. But to their horror, they quickly realized that they were completely surrounded by the spectral warriors—trapped, with no way to escape!
What were they going to do?
The tension in the air thickened to the point of suffocation. But faced with the Holy Grace Church's battle-ready stance, Blake merely smiled and shrugged his shoulders, turning to glance at Jody beside him.
"See? They're still as arrogant as ever. Truly believe that a little borrowed power makes them invincible. It's clear the Holy Grace Church is still run by the same bunch of mindless fanatics..."
"Silence! You will not speak ill of the Holy Grace Church!" Dieder snapped, unable to contain his anger any longer. His voice boomed across the clearing, echoing off the mountain walls. "The Holy Grace Church is the guardian of the sacred Mana! We are the pillar that holds this world together! What could a mere boy like you possibly understand?"
"Oh, I understand perfectly well," Blake replied, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he looked back at Dieder.
"I'm sure your next line is going to be something about how you're the messengers of Mana, chosen to inherit its divine mission and protect the world... I've heard it all before. Delusions are a personal freedom, I suppose. But when those delusions start interfering with other people's lives? That's when we have a problem."
Blake paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.
"And that's why I've always hated you knockoffs."
The word "knockoffs" had barely left his lips when Blake's figure vanished from sight. All anyone saw was a streak of inky black light, streaking toward the Holy Grace Knights standing not far away.
A charge?!
Dieder's eyes widened in shock at Blake's sudden disappearance. He had known a fight was coming—but he had never expected the young lord to strike without hesitation, launching a full-on charge the moment the words left his mouth. And that technique—accelerated charge! It had been decades since he had seen anyone use it!
Against a High-Tier Swordsman, Blake's sudden attack might have caused panic and disarray. But Dieder was a Holy Grace Knight, not a mere swordsman. Techniques like accelerated charge were far from unbeatable to him.
In fact, Dieder could see Blake's figure clearly—the lean, slender form streaking toward him like an arrow loosed from a bow. He could even see the young lord's fingers wrapping around the hilt of the sword at his waist. In the blink of an eye, the pitch-black blade was drawn, gleaming faintly as it cut through the air in a diagonal slash aimed straight at Dieder's left shoulder.
"Hyah!"
Dieder roared, a burst of faint, silvery light erupting from his body as he channeled the sacred Mana within him. He drew his own sword with lightning speed, the ancient blade glowing with the same silvery light as he charged forward to meet Blake's attack. There were no fancy maneuvers, no clever tricks—just a simple, straightforward block, his sword meeting Blake's black blade head-on.
"BOOM!!"
The two swords collided with a deafening crash, sending a shockwave of raw power rippling outward in all directions. The translucent wave of energy whipped up a fierce gale, forcing the lower-Tier warriors and priests to stumble backward to avoid being caught in the crossfire.
The moment their swords made contact, Dieder's heart sank. He had originally assumed that the young lord was nothing more than a High-Tier Swordsman, so he had held back a fraction of his strength—using only eighty percent of his power, intending to simply knock Blake back and gain some breathing room. But to his utter shock, the Mana he had channeled into his sword, the power that should have exploded outward upon impact, vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed at all!
Fortunately for Dieder, he was a seasoned veteran with lightning-fast reflexes. He quickly let out a sharp cry, leaping backward even as he unleashed a blast of soul energy from his sword—a last-ditch effort to create some distance between himself and his opponent.
Dieder's soul energy blast was perfectly timed, released at the exact moment he needed to retreat. But even so, Blake merely swayed his body slightly, dodging the attack with ease. The soul energy blast missed its target by a hair's breadth, slamming into the hard rock ground behind him. There was a thunderous explosion, and when the dust cleared, a massive crater was left in the earth where the blast had struck.
Is this... the power of a Holy Grace Knight?!
The mercenaries stared at the crater in stunned silence, their mouths hanging open. If Blake's earlier battles had left them feeling uneasy and confused, then the Holy Grace Knight's display of power had left them utterly terrified. They had no doubt that not a single member of their small mercenary band would have survived that attack, not even for a second!
The clash between the two had lasted no more than an instant. Dieder had pulled back, retreating into the safety of his own ranks. And after dodging the soul energy blast, Blake had not pursued him further. He merely stood there, his black sword in hand, a playful smirk on his lips as he stared at the Holy Grace Knight before him.
"An Innate Knight..."
Dieder's heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach. Though Blake had not yet used any Knight-level techniques, their brief clash had been more than enough for the experienced Dieder to recognize the truth—the young lord standing before him was a true Innate Knight! Dieder gritted his teeth in frustration. By the sacred Mana! An Innate Knight, here of all places? There had been no mention of such a powerful figure in any of their intelligence reports on the West royal family!
"You have certainly surprised me, Lord," Dieder said, forcing himself to maintain his composure despite the turmoil raging inside him. But he knew, with a sinking feeling, that he would have to revise his plans—quickly.
"But I must warn you: while you may have the power to defeat me, I doubt you wish to spark a full-scale conflict between our two factions over this matter. I propose a compromise. Let us both take a step back... and negotiate a solution to this dispute. What do you say?"
"Negotiate?"
Blake let out a bark of laughter at Dieder's proposal, shaking his head and letting out a long, exaggerated sigh.
"I told you so. The Holy Grace Church's old fogeys never change their tune. Same response every single time. It's positively mind-numbing... But I'm afraid I have to decline your offer, Mr. Knockoff. I have no interest in negotiating with you."
"Why?!" Dieder exclaimed, stunned by Blake's refusal. He had made it clear, albeit indirectly, that even if they were all killed here, the Holy Grace Church would send more forces to investigate. Did this young man truly not fear the wrath of the Church?
"First of all," Blake said, raising one finger, "this is my land. On my land, I make the rules."
His tone dropped, growing cold and menacing. And as he spoke those words, the spectral warriors standing behind him shifted their stance, their auras flaring with suppressed power.
"Second, I have absolutely no interest in the Holy Grace Church's delusions—quite the opposite, in fact. So threatening me with the Church's so-called authority is completely useless. And third..."
Blake flipped his black sword in his hand, the blade glinting coldly in the sunlight.
"No need to worry about that. Let's just say we've killed more than our fair share of Holy Grace Knights over the years. So you lot only have one choice..."
His voice dropped to a whisper, the words carrying across the silent clearing like a death sentence.
"Die."
As soon as the word left his lips, the spectral warriors, who had remained silent until now, sprang into action.