A Fourth-Tier Ghoul's Dying Struggle

"Hoaaaaah!!"

Deep within the towering, complex sea of fire, the battered Silver Sword Commander suddenly raised his head, letting out a long, shrill howl.

That underground alchemical explosion, like a sharp blade, pierced through its last remaining shred of reason.

At this moment, the Ghoul's most primal bloodlust and violence completely overwhelmed all judgment.

This High-Rank Ghoul no longer cared about reinforcements or losses; at this moment, it had only one thought: to smash open that door and tear apart all the people still alive inside.

The imposing aura of Fourth-Tier Demonic Beast exploded violently within the sea of fire!

Thick, almost black Shadow Battle Aura surged wildly from its riddled, mangled body.

Like a massive, surging black tide, it suppressed the remaining platinum flames on its body, causing them to hiss and rage.

It sprang out of the sea of fire, dragging its charred and broken limbs.

"Bang!"

His entire body almost transformed into a black afterimage, crashing straight towards the Inner Fortress gate.

The speed was so fast it was almost unreal; all that remained in its path was a forcibly elongated black streak and a string of sparks that scattered in all directions.

Shien stood on the high ground, his gaze fixed on the out-of-control black shadow rushing towards him below, a hint of cold anger flashing in his eyes.

He raised his right arm, the movement swift and decisive without the slightest hesitation.

"Shoot."

At the highest point of the inner wall, five concealed firing ports that had been tightly sealed were suddenly opened.

The last five Heavy Automatic Rune Steam Repeating Crossbow still operational in Blackpine Fief's inventory began to roar simultaneously!

"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!"

Five heavy, muffled explosions ripped through the Long Night at the same moment.

The Silver Sword Commander, charging wildly, was like a monster crashing head-on into an iron wall; his entire afterimage abruptly stopped in mid-air.

Five heavy arrows, each as Adamantine as an adult's arm and covered in high-purity Holy Silver and dense Armor-Piercing Rune, pierced its chest cavity with terrifying kinetic energy that could tear through the air.

The layer of Fourth Tier Shadow Battle Aura that was still surging wildly was shattered almost instantly upon contact.

The heavy arrow ruthlessly pierced through the bone armor and flesh, hurling its entire mangled body down from mid-air.

The Ghoul that had been pressing down on the Graymist Defense Zone and forcing several territories to shut down was now pinned to the cracked steps in front of the Inner Fortress by five thick, heavy arrows.

The Holy Silver coating and Burst Rune engraved on the surface of the Adamantine arrow were simultaneously activated deep within its torn flesh.

The hissing sound of flesh and blood carbonizing filled the air.

The excruciating alchemical pain, enough to scorch the soul, poured into the ravaged body of the Fourth-Tier Ghoul like molten iron, forcefully suppressing its berserk instincts that had just reached their peak.

It struggled to lift its head.

Less than twenty meters.

That heavy black stone door, so close at hand, now seemed like an insurmountable chasm.

Atop the tower, a young man with long, dark silver hair stood, coldly looking down at it.

For the first time since becoming Ghoul, he truly experienced fear.

It finally understood that this seemingly unremarkable border territory was a graveyard specifically prepared for High-Tier Demonic Beast.

The next volley of heavy arrows was already raining down, and the instinct for survival instantly overwhelmed all his rage.

"Ah!!!!

It let out a hoarse, distorted scream, and its limbs strained violently as it struggled backward like a wild beast driven mad.

The barbs on the arrowheads were still firmly embedded in the flesh and internal organs, and with a sticky, numbing tearing sound, the Ghoul actually managed to peel its own mutilated body off the five Adamantine heavy arrows.

Large pieces of charred flesh, shattered internal organs, and broken bones remained on the arrow, falling down the steps piece by piece.

Thick, foul-smelling black blood gushed out from several horrifying, penetrating wounds.

Immediately afterwards, he rolled to dodge the next wave of heavy arrows.

The Silver Sword Commander pressed one hand firmly against the exposed wound on his chest and abdomen, while gripping the Silver Sword tightly with the other.

Unable to utter a single harsh word, and not daring to even glance at the tower again, they hastily retreated with the few remaining Corpse Guard.

The Third-Tier Ghoul were equally terrified, lacking even the courage to turn back and attack. They could only stumble and stagger after it as it fled into the Gray Fog.

Soon, the Ghoul Legion that had been roaring below the city was reduced to a few stray dogs, plunging headlong into the depths of the Long Night's Gray Fog.

On the tower, as the Silver Sword Commander's figure completely disappeared into the depths of the Gray Fog, the Blackpine Fief finally managed to withstand this wave of attacks.

Unfortunately, they still couldn't keep that Fourth-Tier Ghoul.

Shien lowered his gaze to the still churning Gray Fog, and did not order a pursuit.

Now, if anyone dares to step out of the Inner Fortress, any group of Magic Creature that could easily emerge from the Red Fog would be enough to drag this team, which has just barely survived, back into the mud.

The deep blue light that had been slowly swirling in his eyes finally dimmed little by little.

Having maintained [Lv.3 Macro Battlefield Command] continuously until now, his Divine Power has been pushed to the brink of extreme danger.

He had been able to hold on by the pressure and judgment on the battlefield, but now that the thought that this crisis was temporarily over had subsided, the breath that had been holding him up had finally come to an end.

Exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave.

A heavy feeling pressed down from the back of my head down my spine, then down my limbs, and even my fingertips started to go numb.

Shien's back, which had been taut and straight, finally slumped slightly. Almost instinctively, he gripped the control panel tightly with both hands, barely managing to keep himself from collapsing on the spot.

This body was ultimately just that of a teenager.

The wind, carrying a biting chill and the stench of charred corpses, swept across the charred ruins of the Fifth Ring Road.

Amidst the broken walls and ruins, a few embers of alchemical fire still flickered, shining brightly in the wind.

Behind the Inner Fortress gates, the remaining Blackpine warriors lay scattered in the cold blood and mud, like empty shells that had been completely hollowed out.

The entire position was eerily quiet, save for heavy, trembling breaths that were dragged along in the wind.

Even though the monsters had retreated into the depths of the Gray Fog, his muscles remained stiff, and he dared not even breathe too heavily.

That ingrained instinct hadn't dissipated; there was a constant feeling that if even the slightest sound was made, the Gray Fog would crack open again, and those things would pounce on them once more.

Until Fabien, using the blade of the sword, gradually managed to prop up the cracked Holy Silver heavy armor.

The Church Knight, who had killed countless people during the Blood Moon, looked up at the battle banner fluttering in the cold wind, and a reddish heat gradually ignited in his eyes.

He strained for his last breath from his nearly empty lungs, his throat hoarse and cracking. "We held out! Most Holy protection! Victory to Blackpine Fief!"

After a brief moment of stunned silence, the pent-up emotions that had been weighing on everyone's chests exploded.

"May the lord be victorious!"

"Lord Shien is victorious!"

Rough roars, suppressed retching, and the clanging of broken weapons hitting Pig Iron shields all rose from the ruins.

This wasn't a well-organized, pleasant cheer; it was more like a group of people who had just crawled back from Hell, desperately trying to prove with their voices that they were still alive.

The Frozen Tundra of the Silent Wasteland has been soaked with blood.

Hundreds of high-level mutated Werewolf corpses lay scattered across the wasteland, covering the ground.

The Church's most elite Mobile Holy Knight Order scattered across the battlefield, panting heavily.

The silver armor had long lost its cold, hard sheen from when it set out; it was now covered in scratches and dents.

Several Knight, their helmets cracked, were leaning against their horses, coughing up blood as they tightened their arm guards.

The Ghoul Commander besieging Blackpine Fief had long ago included this force of several hundred Werewolf entrenched on the edge of the Silent Wasteland in his calculations.

Alright.

When the two sides met, there was absolutely no room for maneuver.

Under the influence of the Blood Moon, the Werewolf disregarded their own lives and recklessly pounced on the Holy Knight and their warhorses.

Even if pierced through the chest by the Holy Silver Longsword, it would still dig its claws into its nails before dying.

Through this frenzied attack, they managed to keep the entire Mobile Holy Knight tied up on the icy plains for an entire night.

In the center of the battlefield, Bishop Castian slowly straightened up, his five fingers slowly withdrawing from the shattered skull of Werewolf leader.

Red and white brain matter dripped through his fingers, but he didn't even look at it, simply flicking his hand to shake the sticky stuff to his feet.

That aged face was now terrifyingly gloomy.

Logically speaking, a newly rebuilt territory like Blackpine Fief would only last half a day at most if it were to directly confront that mysterious Ghoul Legion.

But now, two full days have passed since the Ghoul Legion pressed onto Blackpine Fief.

Castian raised his head, looking beyond the rolling Red Fog at the edge of the Silent Wasteland towards the direction of Blackpine Fief.

In the depths of that chaotic darkness, the Sacred Flame coordinates, signifying that the territory had not yet fallen, were still burning.

That ball of platinum light was far away, like a spark that might be extinguished at any moment, yet it was indeed still there, stubbornly clinging to the depths of the Gray Fog.

Castian stared at the light for a long time without saying a word.

He had seen far too many territories fall apart.

Most of the time, once the Mobile Holy Knight are bogged down on the road, the young lords and newly established strongholds on the front lines face only one fate.

The Sacred Flame went out, the defenses collapsed, and everyone was swallowed whole by something in the night, leaving no intact corpses behind.

"Mount up," Castian said, his voice hoarse but extremely steady.

The surrounding Holy Knight immediately looked up.

Some had just tightened the broken straps, or hadn't even had time to pull the wolf teeth embedded in their leg armor, but after this order was given, everyone gritted their teeth, mounted their horses, and regrouped.

Castian grabbed the reins, mounted his armored warhorse, and commanded, "Full speed ahead!"

After a brief silence, the sound of whips whistling through the air rang out one after another.

Exhausted warhorses neighed and charged forward again in excruciating pain, the dull thud of their hooves soon becoming a continuous rumble as they crushed the Frozen Tundra.

The entire Church lined up again in the snow and set off towards Blackpine Fief Territory.

Castian remained at the forefront, his eyes fixed on the still-burning Platinum Flame on the horizon.

This iron-willed bishop, who always placed order and reason above all else, had a thought in his mind that was completely contrary to his character.

Hang in there.

You must hold on.