Chapter Sixty-Eight: You’ve Blasted a Hole Through the House

"Form the battle formation!"

Facing the cultists from the underground arena, the seasoned knights of the Extraordinary Legion immediately gathered, their auras weaving together as one.

A powerful battle formation swiftly took shape, unleashing an unparalleled force that pressed down upon the gaunt man before them.

"Kill!"

A colossal, ethereal spear could be vaguely seen, slowly taking form.

This was the Legion Knights at their most formidable—by relying on their battle formation, second-tier official knights and even apprentice knights could unleash the power of those of the third tier or higher.

"Hehehe, foolish knights." The man threw aside the severed head in his hand and turned to enter an inn.

In the next instant, the luxurious inn was blasted apart by the mighty spear. With a thunderous crash, the entire building collapsed.

"Is he dead?" one knight questioned.

But in the next moment, a sharp, piercing laugh resounded from above.

"Hahaha! Knights, you’re far too slow!"

The gaunt man stood atop a rafter, legs spread wide, bouncing left and right like a grotesque jester.

"Block him! Don’t let him escape!"

Again, a deafening explosion erupted, stones flying as another lavishly decorated house crumbled into ruin.

The Grand Duke Carter’s knights plowed through like bulldozers, their terrifying, brute strength leveling house after house, yet no matter how they tried, they could never lay a hand on the cultist.

"Where are the hunters from the guild? Get a hunter squad here—our knights are completely hamstrung in these cramped city streets."

The knight commander realized that within the confines of the city, the Legion’s strength was utterly stifled, and the cultist was using his bizarre movements to slowly wear them down.

"A weakness."

Suddenly, a voice whispered in his ear. The knight commander’s hair stood on end, and his blade lashed out instinctively.

The moment he struck, he realized he’d done something foolish.

A mental assault!

The knights nearby, faced with the sudden attack, reacted just as instinctively, raising their shields.

Clang!

A crisp collision rang out as one knight was flung backward, crashing into several others and shattering the battle formation in an instant.

The knight commander raised his head, his expression grim. The cultist had not disappeared, but still stood atop the rafter, wearing that twisted grin.

"Hahahaha, foolish knights!"

Just then, the cultist’s form blurred, and he shot toward the knights below like a cannonball.

A storm of blood and gore erupted, heads dropping to the ground like ripe apples. Every few seconds, another knight’s head hit the earth, while the others still reeled from the collapse of their formation.

"Hold fast! Everyone split up and form small squad formations!"

Under the commander’s orders, the knights finally shook off their panic, regrouping into tight clusters of a dozen or so, forming small battle arrays.

To put it generously, they were small formations, but in truth they simply joined their shields, using what little they knew of formation tactics. Their defense barely improved—only their shield wall grew broader.

Now, the tide turned; the cultist found himself surrounded by these squads of knights.

"Kill!"

With a roar thick with fury, the small squads darted through the narrow streets, besieging the wretched cultist.

"Hahaha! That’s it, that’s the feeling!" The cultist’s laughter grew wild, his face twisted with madness, his eyes burning with an indescribable fervor.

"Battle, slaughter, battle, slaughter…"

The crazed chanting seemed to carry a wicked power. The knights’ eyes began to glow red, their breaths came faster, their movements grew more frantic, more violent.

"Steady yourselves! Don’t let him sway your minds!" the commander shouted.

But even as he spoke, a faint red glimmer flickered in his own gaze.

If only they could reform their grand battle formation now, such a mental assault would be useless—but the enemy clearly had no intention of allowing that.

As the commander debated whether to order a retreat, a monstrous steel contraption thundered down the street toward them.

"What is that?" The commander heard the roaring engine behind him and looked up.

Before he could react, ten kingdom knights astride gigantic steeds burst from behind the steel beast, their auras surging as they charged in with overwhelming force.

"Out of the way!" the kingdom knights bellowed.

The terrifying might of their warhorses and battle techniques sent the local knights flying. Against these elite and well-armed kingdom knights, the baronial knights stood no chance.

In mere moments, the kingdom knight squad had pressed right up to the cultist.

Seeing this, the cultist leapt into the air, bounding from rooftop to rooftop before landing atop another rafter.

"At last, some interesting opponents! Let’s—"

Bang!

With a thunderous report, the cultist felt as if he’d plunged into a bottomless abyss—a mortal sense of peril engulfed him.

In the nick of time, he contorted his body to the right—his entire left arm suddenly exploded in a spray of flesh and bone!

Dread wrapped around him. Not daring to spare a thought for his mangled arm, the cultist’s body blurred into a shadow, leaping to another rooftop.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The rooftop where he’d just stood was ripped apart by a terrifying force, ochre tiles flying in every direction.

The muzzle of the anti-aircraft cannon tracked the shadow as it moved, turning one house after another into a sieve.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

What was that?! What kind of attack was this?!

Feeling unknown projectiles whistling past him, the cultist’s face twisted in rare terror.

That strange steel monster on the ground—it had no aura at all, yet could unleash such bizarre and deadly attacks. Most frightening of all, its assaults were utterly silent; he could only dodge by instinct and sight.

Hide inside a house!

An idea flashed in his mind. He decided to repeat his trick, diving headlong into a building.

Once inside, the cultist finally exhaled in relief.

He was safe, at last—just what were those iron monsters?

But in the next instant, that deathly terror returned.

Shells tore through the building, riddling the walls with holes, blasting the frail man apart.

The structures of this era, their materials, stood no chance against an anti-aircraft cannon—they were as fragile as paper.

Hide in a house? The house itself will be razed to the ground!