In the company led by Dieder, besides himself, there were five High-Tier Swordsmen, four Mid-Tier Swordsmen, and five Mid-Tier Priests—a force that was quite formidable in both numbers and strength. The Priests, in particular, were a major threat. They could chant divine spells to enhance the Swordsmen's physical prowess, boost their speed, and even heal their wounds mid-battle. In fact, the Holy Grace Church had developed a unique battle formation for such engagements. Instead of keeping the Priests fully protected at the rear, they arranged their forces in an intersecting triangular formation that subtly surrounded the clerics. Any enemy foolish enough to see this as a weakness and target the Priests first would quickly find themselves trapped inside the encirclement.
Like Mages, Priests would cast unique protective divine spells on themselves before battle. With these wards in place, it would take at least four or five attackers to breach their defenses—and even a High-Tier Swordsman would have to expend considerable effort to break through their divine barriers.
When the black-armored warriors began to move, the Church forces, already in formation, sneered inwardly. It was obvious to them that the enemy's target was the Priests behind their lines. Even a High-Tier Swordsman would struggle to escape once caught in their encirclement. So as the black-armored warriors advanced, the Church warriors shifted their positions, throwing open the "mouth" of their formation and waiting for the foolish intruders to walk right into the trap.
But what happened next completely caught them off guard.
The black-armored warriors seemed to pay no heed to the deliberate gap they had left. On the contrary, just before entering the encirclement, their speed suddenly slowed. Not a single word was spoken, but it was as if a silent command had echoed in their ears. In unison, they came to a halt, then slid backward in perfect coordination. Only then did they draw their massive greatswords—and vanish from sight.
Their pause lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was enough to throw the Church warriors' entire strategy into disarray. They had adjusted their encirclement to match the enemy's supposed advance speed, but that split-second halt left them unable to react in time. Their movements became chaotic, and before they could readjust their footing, they watched in shock as the black-armored warriors raised their two-handed greatswords and charged straight at them.
This unexpected reversal stunned the Church warriors. Never before had they encountered an enemy that refused to target the Priests first after they deployed this formation. Any seasoned adventurer knew that Priests and Mages were the priority targets in battle; failure to eliminate them early would lead to disaster. Why were these warriors doing the exact opposite? If they lacked battle experience, how could they be High-Tier Swordsmen—surely they knew this basic rule of combat?
Confused as they were, the Church warriors charged forward to meet the black-armored warriors, engaging them in fierce close-quarters combat. Not all the spectral warriors joined the fray—three split off to protect the mercenaries, leaving seven as the main fighting force. For this reason, the battle quickly reached a stalemate. The spectral warriors wielded ancient sword techniques and elemental powers, making them formidable opponents, but the Church forces had the advantage in numbers. Coupled with the Priests constantly healing and shielding their warriors from behind, the spectral warriors could not gain the upper hand easily. The clash of weapons and battle cries echoed under the clear blue sky.
The Church warriors were brimming with confidence. Although the enemy had not fallen into their encirclement as expected, the current situation favored them far more. If these black-armored warriors were truly determined to take them down first, they were attempting the impossible. With the Priests casting protective and strength-enhancing divine spells on them, they were more than confident of defeating the intruders.
Despite his subordinates' optimism, Dieder's expression was grim. Unlike them, he had not joined the battle and had spotted a critical flaw the moment the two sides clashed. The black-armored warriors were not making a mistake out of inexperience—on the contrary, they knew the Priests' greatest weakness all too well!
Priests of the Holy Grace Church were primarily responsible for healing and protecting their allies on the battlefield. But this role came with a fatal vulnerability—**balance**.
In combat, a Priest's first priority was never to protect themselves, but to safeguard their fellow warriors. This required intense focus and lightning-fast reflexes. However, humans had their limits. The more attention a Priest devoted to others, the more their own defenses would be neglected subconsciously. In this state, they became extremely vulnerable to surprise attacks. Divine spells required a brief casting time, and if a Priest was too focused on protecting others, even if they reacted the instant they were attacked, they would be unable to cast a defensive spell in time. This was the fatal flaw that made Priests even more fragile than Mages. While Mages had weak physical bodies, they only needed to focus on protecting themselves in battle, allowing them to maintain absolute vigilance at all times. Priests, however, were forced to divide their attention between themselves and others, putting them in far greater danger.
And that was precisely what the black-armored warriors were doing. They launched relentless assaults on the Church warriors, forcing the Priests to focus all their attention on healing and shielding their allies to prevent casualties. In doing so, the Priests would neglect their own defenses—and the black-armored warriors were simply biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike!
Realizing this, Dieder broke out in a cold sweat. Who exactly were these people? How could they know the Church's weaknesses so intimately? From disrupting their formation with that sudden pause to now drawing the Priests' attention with their fierce attacks—this was not a strategy that ordinary warriors or adventurers could execute. In fact, these vulnerabilities were known only to the most experienced, veteran clergymen and knights within the Church. How had these intruders uncovered them?
Dieder was tempted to join the battle and turn the tide. With his strength as a Holy Grace Knight, taking on seven High-Tier Swordsmen should have been an easy task. But he could not move—not when the tall young man stood before him, holding his pitch-black sword and wearing a distinctly mocking smile.
"No need to look so shocked, knockoff," Blake said, shifting his stance slightly as he stood on the hillside.
He did not directly block Dieder's path, but the Holy Grace Knight knew full well that given his current position and angle, there was no way he could rush to aid his subordinates or charge down the hillside to capture the mercenaries. Blake's position perfectly blocked both optimal routes of attack. If he attempted either, Dieder had no doubt that the young man would kill him in an instant with overwhelming force.
If his opponent were merely a High-Tier Swordsman, Dieder might have risked a breakthrough. After all, even the most exquisite sword techniques were useless without sufficient power to back them up. But standing before him was a Knight—an **Innate Knight**, a true Knight in all but name.
The thought sent a chill down Dieder's spine. He knew exactly how vast the gap was between Holy Grace Knights and true Knights. Their power did not come from their own souls; they possessed no unique Knight Swordsmanship of their own. In truth, compared to true Knights, Holy Grace Knights were nothing more than half-finished products—unworthy of even stepping onto the same battlefield. That was why Dieder had been unable to refute Blake's mocking "knockoff" remark—it was the unvarnished truth.
True, Holy Grace Knights were powerful. They could easily defeat High-Tier Swordsmen, which was why the world regarded them as Knights. But in reality, they were nothing more than an intermediate class, stuck between High-Tier Swordsmen and true Knights. They could never become true Knights, nor could they revert to being High-Tier Swordsmen. They were trapped in a state of perpetual mediocrity.
"Who exactly are you?" Dieder asked uneasily, glancing toward the battlefield on the hillside. The situation was deteriorating rapidly, but his subordinates seemed completely oblivious to the enemy's trap—a fact that filled him with dread. He desperately wanted to shout a warning, to alert them to the danger they were in. But he could not. For standing before him was a Knight, and one should never let their guard down in the presence of a Knight—lest they lose their life in the blink of an eye.
Thus, the only thing the half-elf Knight could do was keep his eyes fixed on the young man in front of him, preventing him from launching a surprise attack. It was clear from their earlier clash that Blake had no intention of adhering to any code of chivalry.
In fact, the so-called "knight's code" had never truly bound anyone except false Knights like himself. True Knights were defined by their unshakable convictions, which varied wildly from individual to individual. Some believed in "might makes right"; others sought to "prove their worth through slaughter." While there were Knights who upheld noble virtues, they were few and far between. From that single strike earlier, Dieder had already realized that whatever conviction drove this young Innate Knight, it was certainly not one of virtue. His only hope now was to stall for time, to find a flaw in Blake's words, and at the very least, to identify his elemental attribute. Otherwise, if his strength, speed, and even the trajectory of his sword strikes were to vanish mid-battle, he would be in unspeakable trouble.
"I thought I already introduced myself," Blake replied, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"I am Blake Felix, Lord of this Duskwood. As intruders who have trespassed on my land without permission, it would be only polite for you to remember my name."
"I acknowledge your strength, Lord Felix," Dieder said, hesitating for a moment as he considered how to persuade his opponent.
"But I beg you not to let your power cloud your judgment. There are many things in this world that even the strongest cannot overcome... And—"
"—AHHH!!"
A bloodcurdling scream cut through the air, jolting Dieder out of his thoughts.
Jody reversed her greatsword, and the blazing crimson flames coiled around the blade instantly engulfed the Church warrior before her. Just moments ago, she had been fending off attacks from three High-Tier Swordsmen when she suddenly leaped into the air. Dodging the swords coming at her from both sides, she lunged forward without hesitation. Faced with her ferocious assault, the High-Tier Swordsman in front of her roared and thrust his sword forward, attempting a suicidal strike to force her to dodge. But he never expected that Jody would not evade the gleaming blade piercing toward her chest. She let the sword tear through her armor, then raised her greatsword with both hands and slammed it down onto the Swordsman's shoulder.
Thanks to the protective divine spell shielding him, the devastating blow did not kill the Church warrior outright—but the damage it inflicted was far from trivial. Just as the Priest behind him was about to cast a healing spell, brilliant, searing flames erupted from Jody's greatsword, incinerating the wounded Swordsman in an instant and reducing his body to a pile of charred ash.
The remaining Church forces froze in shock. They had never imagined that the enemy would launch such a reckless killing blow in the middle of a stalemate—and that it would succeed!
By the sacred Mana... were these creatures even human?
Their momentary hesitation was all the spectral warriors had been waiting for. While the Church forces were still reeling from their comrade's sudden death, the spectral warriors who had been engaging them in combat abruptly changed direction. Without the slightest hesitation or doubt, as if they had foreseen this exact moment, they raised their swords. Elemental power danced along the edges of their massive blades, and in the blink of an eye, they transformed into streaks of black light, charging straight at the three Priests standing at the rear.
"Look out!!"
The Church warriors finally reacted, rushing forward in a desperate attempt to intercept them—but it was too late.
The battle had been so intense that the Priests had been completely focused on healing and protecting their warriors. Though they had cast a basic protective spell on themselves before the fight began, that was all. With the enemy targeting the Church warriors instead of them, they had not had the luxury of reinforcing their own defenses amid the chaos of battle.
Thus, when the hapless Church warrior was consumed by flames, the three Priests' already frayed nerves snapped. By the time they snapped out of their daze, the massive, elemental-wreathed sword blades were already looming before their eyes.
The battle was decided.
"It ends here," Blake said, not even glancing back at the battlefield. He could easily imagine what was happening there.
"Farewell, false Knight."
"Dream on!!"
Dieder roared, swinging his sword with all his might. The blade cut through the air, then snapped back to collide with the pitch-black Venomfang once again.
But this time, everything was different.
The light on Dieder's sword flared brighter than ever, while Blake's pitch-black blade began to twist and bend, like a mirage shimmering in water.
"We Holy Grace Knights have dedicated our entire lives to serving the Temple! We fight to uphold the balance of Mana, to protect this world! And you, young man—no matter what your reasons are—I will never let you succeed!"
As he spoke, Dieder's body began to undergo a bizarre transformation. His once supple skin hardened into crystal, and his handsome half-elf features turned as lifeless and colorless as stone carvings. His flowing hair solidified, and his emerald-green eyes vanished, replaced by glowing white pupils that shone with pure, sacred light.
"DIE!!"
A flash of silver light.
The cold radiance tore through the ground, like the claw of an invisible giant pouncing on Blake. Faced with this overwhelming attack, Blake merely frowned, then shifted his body. Using the Accelerated Charge technique, he dodged the fatal strike by a hair's breadth, leaving five deep, terrifying gashes in the earth where he had stood just moments ago. At the same time, a faint, almost imperceptible streak of black light shot from Blake's hand, slashing at Dieder's left arm.
"BOOM!!"
To Blake's slight surprise, the sword struck Dieder's left hand squarely—but it did not inflict the slightest wound. Instead, a dull, metallic clang echoed through the air. For the first time, the ever-hungry Venomfang lost its lethal power, shrinking back into its master's hand like a defeated beast.
"Mana crystallization?" Blake murmured, gripping his sword with a calm expression, as if the failed strike was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
"I didn't expect Holy Grace Knights still knew this trick. Should've brought Ophalia along to act as a meat shield... Oh well, I'll make do."
With that, Blake raised his right hand, palm facing outward, and looked at the Knight charging toward him. He shrugged his shoulders.
"Alright, show's over, everyone can go home now."
As the words left his lips, a strange, pure white rune appeared in the center of his palm—and vanished without a trace.
The air grew still.
Dieder had already charged right up to Blake, but he did not take another step forward. He stood there, sword raised high, frozen in the posture of preparing to strike. The Mana crystals that had encased his body now began to crumble, drifting away like snowflakes and dissolving into the air. At that moment, one of Blake's fingers was pressed against his chest plate. Even though a single swing of his sword would have left Blake with nowhere to run, Dieder's face was ashen, his body trembling violently, as if he could not even lift his arm to strike.
"How... how is this possible... How can you possess such power..."
He stared at the young man in front of him, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if he were trying to see straight through him. In response to his question, Blake merely shrugged his shoulders.
"I told you—I never liked the Holy Grace Church."
It was the last thing Dieder ever heard.