Help, Heal, Guard, May the Blossoms Endure!

Linton and Iris hid beneath a tree to one side, quietly watching the two sides clash.

Warriors severed knights' arms with their longswords, while knights drove their lances into warriors' chests. Neither side seemed to have any intention of leaving the battlefield unscathed.

Though the fighting was brutal, their numbers did not actually diminish. Whenever one died, they resurrected like players and rejoined the battlefield.

"Why... does it keep repeating?" Iris looked at Linton in confusion.

Even though they had not known each other for long, she had gradually developed the excellent habit of asking Linton directly whenever there was something she could not understand.

With his hands behind his back, Linton slowly said, "About five hundred years ago, a dark kingdom appeared on the Calvi Continent. You know about that, right?"

Iris nodded. "The Kingdom of Palenke. I saw some of its history in the Knights Order's library before, but most of the information was vague, and there were very few detailed records..."

There had to be records. After all, this kingdom had been powerful enough to wage war against every other nation on the continent by itself.

As for why the accounts were so sparse, perhaps it was because the flames of war had spread across the entire continent. Everyone had been focused on defending their homeland, with no time to record the deeds of an invader.

Though it was one of the oldest surviving nations, the Kingdom of Blossoms had been weakened because its gods allowed it to govern itself without intervention. Naturally, it had been drawn into the conflict as well. Some even claimed that the Kingdom of Palenke had once reached the walls of Falasong, the capital of the Kingdom of Blossoms, and nearly destroyed it.

"Those shield-and-sword warriors are the royal guards of the Kingdom of Palenke, while the ones fighting them are elite knights of the Flower Knights."

"But so many years have passed. Why do they still exist? Even remnants of will should have been worn away by now, shouldn't they?"

"You're right," Linton said. "They truly perished long ago. The people we see now, including the Palenke warriors, are no longer their original selves. They are imitations summoned by a Grand Summoner."

"And that Grand Summoner was named Bobby Wendell."

"Master Wendell?!"

Iris finally could not help crying out.

Bobby Wendell was the most famous summoning mage in the Kingdom of Blossoms' court. It was said that many summoning spells still in use today had been continuously improved upon the foundation of his magic.

According to the level classifications given by the system, a Grand Summoner was a super combatant above level eighty.

If it was such a super NPC, then it was not too surprising that his will had remained here even after more than five hundred years.

But Iris still found it hard to believe. "Is it really the one I'm thinking of? I remember the Knights Order's records saying that Master Wendell disappeared during the war with Palenke. I never expected that he had encountered the enemy here. So the strange phenomena around us are because of him?"

"More or less," Linton answered ambiguously.

"Master Wendell used the Forbidden Secret Arts, allowing the filth from the abyss to contaminate his soul. Even his most fundamental summoning magic changed into magic focused on summoning undead creatures."

"As his soul was eroded, his consciousness gradually became muddled and his memories turned to chaos. He even forgot why he had come here. The reason he kept summoning knights and warriors to slaughter one another was that this was the last scene he saw while he still possessed a clear mind. After that, his consciousness fell into a haze, and he became trapped in an endless cycle until his power completely dispersed."

"Of course, if the abyssal filth had not allowed him to touch the boundary of the Spirit of Life and Death, then even a renowned Grand Summoner could not have existed for over five hundred years. Even so, time has worn away most of his power. These knights are not even as strong as you are now."

"Hey! Am I really that weak?" Iris retorted unhappily, then immediately pressed on. "So what did we come here for?"

"To take his relic," Linton said. "Wendell was a summoning archmage, and I'm half of one myself. His relic can greatly increase my strength."

"As for how we do that, let's join the battlefield first! Only when one side temporarily wins the struggle can we hear the closing words of the one behind it all."

"I understand!"

Iris raised her knight's sword and was about to charge forward, but Linton lifted a hand and stopped her.

"Don't be so hasty. If you rush in that recklessly, you'll be treated as a stone disturbing still water, breaking the balance of the scene. Then the knights and warriors will focus their fire on you together and kill you instantly."

Iris's delicate brows furrowed slightly. "Then what should I do?"

Linton pointed toward the battlefield. "Take a closer look at those knights."

The doll-like girl obediently looked more carefully.

The knights did not seem particularly eager to attack. Though they were charging as well, most of the time they focused on defense and counterattacks, weaving and maneuvering with surprising ease. As for the knight leading them, he occasionally glanced toward the mountain pass while fighting, as though expecting something.

"They should be stronger than their opponents, so why don't they just break through them? And they look... like they're waiting for reinforcements?"

"You're half right." Linton's voice became somewhat distant. "The knights knew they might be the stronger side on the frontal battlefield, but merely having greater displayed strength did not mean they could certainly win. When a commander realizes he absolutely cannot defeat the enemy army, he has two choices—retreat, or hold the line here and wait for support."

"But behind them lie endless plains and small towns where ordinary people live. The only city with proper defenses is Falasong. So they have nowhere to retreat to and can only hope for reinforcements."

"They never came, did they?" A trace of sadness suddenly welled up in Iris's heart.

Once the flames of war were lit, neither side could ever truly be a winner.

"Unfortunately, you're right."

Linton snapped his fingers, and specks of starlight immediately lit up around them, then gathered into knights with solemn expressions, one after another.

"Through hundreds of years of endless repetition, their hopes were never answered, yet they never gave up. So, Miss Knight, do you think we can become their reinforcements?"

"Of course!"

Iris tightened her grip on her knight's sword and softly recited the slogan she had shouted since childhood.

"Help, heal, guard, may the blossoms endure!"

The eyes of the knights summoned by Linton suddenly came alive, like roses that had endured bitter cold finally meeting the warm spring breeze, transforming into moving devotion.

"May the blossoms endure!"