At the same time Elria was busy healing the suffering miners, Tyron, one of the Pope’s Deathsworn captains, discovered the exact location of the Rebel Army’s base.
“To think they could use a hidden barrier in a place like this. A truly impressive trick indeed,” the man said with a dark laugh. He wore a hooded black robe that concealed the upper half of his face.
“We’ve been scouting this area for nearly 1 month, even sacrificing several scouts. I have finally found it.”
A rebel squad leader, caught in Tyron’s ambush within the woods, was in a gruesome state. Poisoned wooden arrows were lodged in his right eye, his abdomen, and his left thigh, with blood oozing steadily from the wounds.
“Ah… Argh! You despicable thief! You are defiling the chivalry I hold dear! Do you dare face my unit in a fair fight?!”
A low, raspy chuckle escaped Tyron’s throat. “Corpses in a ditch… no one knows how they died,” he said dismissively. “Chivalry is worthless to me.”
With those words, Tyron drew his hidden blade and slit the squad leader’s throat.
Assassination, ambushes, acting as hired muscle, and purging dissenters — Altair and Tyron were the two captains of the Pope’s Deathsworn unit. Growing up in the slums of Karenpolis, they had survived solely by their agility and wits. They knew better than anyone what life was like for those at the bottom of society.
Pope Dusseldorf had taken an interest in them. In truth, the calculating old man had placed certain restrictions on Altair and Tyron to ensure they could never betray him. However, that didn’t matter to them. Having spent their lives struggling on the edge of death, never knowing if they would starve the next day, the wealth and security the Pope provided were enough for them to offer their absolute loyalty.
Tyron’s tastes leaned toward the sadistic. He was obsessed with what he called his ‘hunting games,’ always setting elaborate traps on the paths his enemies were likely to take. It was a method that never failed, and the rebel squad leader was merely his latest victim.
“Report! A large force has appeared ahead. It seems the rebel leader is also approaching!” a subordinate rushed over to inform Tyron.
“Oh? This forest is already a web of my traps. I haven’t even gone looking for them, and yet their leader delivers himself to my doorstep? How interesting.”
Tyron looked entirely confident, clearly not taking the rebel leader seriously.
Over with the rebel forces, the Knight Legion was currently advancing in a slow, disciplined formation. The heavy knights in the front row acted as the vanguard’s bulwark. Upon their thick plate armor, the soldiers’ helmets bore the eagle emblem of the Palicio family crest.
The forested terrain was unsuitable for mounted combat, which significantly weakened the Knight Legion’s primary offensive strength. By switching to a slow, marching formation on foot, they had bolstered their defense, but it left them vulnerable to concentrated strikes.
Suddenly, a series of noises echoed through the woods. They could see many figures moving at high speeds, but the shapes were too blurred to identify as human.
“Form ranks! Stay alert! Lord Marcus will be here soon!” a knight squire in golden-enchanted rune plate armor shouted to his men.
In an instant, a dense rain of arrows fell from above, so thick it seemed to block out the very air. Several members who weren’t prepared in time were wounded and fell.
The knight squire immediately activated a skill. **[Holy Shield]**!
A surge of golden runes poured from his armor, weaving a transparent shield of holy light around the squad. A barrage of clanging sounds followed as the surprise attack from Tyron’s assassin unit was rendered useless.
“Those with light injuries, keep fighting! Those with heavy injuries, get under cover provided by the uninjured!” the squire continued to issue commands.
“Tch!”
Tyron clicked his tongue in frustration when he saw the arrow volley fail. It didn’t take long for him to devise a new plan.
“You lot, go out as bait. Lead them toward my pit traps. Move fast!”
Several of his agile subordinates reacted instantly. Attacking in small groups, they harassed the main body of the Knight Legion while simultaneously luring small groups of knights away from the protection of the main force.
Cunningly, they intentionally showed weaknesses. Two of the assassins even feigned injury, successfully provoking over ten hotheaded knights into breaking away from the main unit and heading straight toward Tyron’s pit traps.
“Don’t get drawn in! You men, did you hear me?!”
The knight squire shouted from behind, but the roar of battle drowned out his voice. He could only watch as his subordinates were led away.
The dozen or so knights reached Tyron’s trap zone. The two in the lead were about to strike an assassin who had collapsed to the ground, feigning defeat and begging for mercy.
“My lords, I was wrong! Please… show mercy…” The assassin’s performance was vivid, his body trembling as he lay prostrate. To any observer, it looked entirely genuine.
“You shameless, cowardly wretch! You know nothing but sneak attacks! You will atone for our fallen brothers!” A knight raised his sword high, prepared to cut the assassin down.
However, his blade never reached the man. A massive hole suddenly appeared beneath the feet of the knights.
Tyron had triggered the mechanism. The boards beneath the knights were yanked away, revealing a lethal pit trap filled with sharpened bamboo stakes.
“AAAGH!! — “
The screams from the pit were endless. The knights inside were a horrific sight, pierced through until they were barely recognizable.
“In such a hurry to become pincushions, are we, my ‘noble’ lords?”
Standing above the pit and looking down at the dying knights, Tyron stood tall with the arrogant posture of a victor.
Tyron then returned to the main body of the Knight Legion. He utilized poison smoke, grappling hooks, poison darts, battering rams, and catapults — using every dirty trick in the book to slowly whittle down and divide the Legion’s strength.
The knight squire’s brow was furrowed. He could tell that his unit had already suffered over 50% casualties. Faced with such a variety of traps and schemes, he was panting heavily, exhausted from the constant defense.
‘This won’t work! We can’t keep this up.’
They had clearly blundered into a massive ambush set by Tyron’s assassins. However, they were less than 4 kilometers away from their base. They had no choice but to take this risk to pull out the poisonous fang embedded right at their front door.
In such a desperate situation, every second was precious. There was no more time to waste! He had to find a way to reduce his subordinates’ casualties immediately.
At that moment, a tall and handsome middle-aged man appeared on the battlefield. He wore a deep blue knight’s cape over silver-white armor engraved with the Palicio family crest. Behind him stood the Cleric, Rachel.
“In the name of Omnia and by the oath of Palicio loyalty, I shall purify all evil!”
Holy light condensed around the greatsword in the man’s hand. Violent sacred energy exploded outward with him at the center. Countless blades of light streaked across the area like meteors, accurately striking the members of Tyron’s assassin unit. In an instant, the knights were pulled back from the brink of disaster.
**[Palicio Family Heritage: Dawn Slash]**!
“I am Marcus Palicio. My former titles are but fleeting clouds, yet I still hold true to my heart. A knight’s restraint does not mean total submission. Now is the time to punish the wicked!”