Chapter 127: The Reaper on the Walls

As Marcus landed back on the stone parapet, his spear held firmly in his hand, the brief silence left by his devastating blow was instantly swallowed by the returning roar of the horde. Trampling the smoldering remains of their fallen, the beasts surged forward in a relentless tide. Along the battlements, the soldiers who had been cheering a moment earlier tightened their grips on their weapons as the ground began to shake beneath the charge.

"Mage Units! Archers! Loose!"

At the command, the mage units stepped forward in unison, their hands weaving intricate mana circles. Beside them, the First Scout Unit Leader Brannoc, who held command over both the scout and archer divisions, barked his order.

Hundreds of archers and scouts pulled their bowstrings and readied heavy crossbows, while designated artillery crews stepped forward to trigger the pre-loaded catapults and ballistas.

WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!

THWACK! THWACK!

A blinding volley of fiery arrows, crackling lightning bolts, and thousands of iron-tipped bolts leaped from the high walls of Northwatch. Ballista bolts as thick as a man’s arm punched through the front rank, and where the catapult stones landed, ten to twenty beasts at a time were crushed into the frozen ground. The sky darkened for a split second before raining total destruction onto the plains below. Explosions of fire and ice ripped through the front ranks of the horde while arcing lightning charred monsters to the bone. Frost Wolves were blown apart, and Rotfang Hound packs were instantly engulfed in flames.

Yet the madness driving the horde did not decrease by a fraction. They did not retreat nor falter. Their eyes stayed fixed on the fortress, as if the dead in front of them did not exist. Monsters threw themselves over the charred corpses of their kin, using the dead as ramparts to press ever closer to the fortress base.

The archers began to reload their bows and crossbows, and the mages began to chant once more. Volley after volley kept pouring down on the beasts.

SCREECH!

Thousands of beasts slammed into the fortress walls. Vineveil Serpents slithered up the sheer stone, while Dire Canopy Stalkers used their six powerful limbs to pierce holes into the sturdy masonry and scale the battlements.

Meanwhile, in the sky, a deafening, shrill cry pierced the air as aerial monsters closed in. Blizzard Eagles and massive Frostwing Bats descended like a dark storm, diving straight for the mages and archers.

"Form up! Shield the casters!"

The soldiers and mercenaries snapped into motion. Swords flashed and spears thrust upward as infantrymen stepped in front of the casters, clashing directly with the plummeting beasts.

Ethan remained calmly observing the battle until this moment. Just as a nearby mage was about to be overwhelmed by a dozen Blizzard Eagles descending with razor-sharp talons, Ethan waited until the exact moment they crossed into his striking range.

"Move," he ordered his squad.

Ethan pierced through the leading beast with the tip of his blade in a blitz of motion, and a freezing gust erupted as he executed the Northern Gale Steps. Moving fluidly into the open gap left by the cold storm the Blizzard Eagles had created, he delivered five precise, lethal strikes, instantly killing the lead eagles before pivoting toward the Vineveil Serpents scaling the stone wall. With a flick of his blade, powered by physical strength alone, he cleanly beheaded a climbing Canopy Stalker.

Rune jumped high using the strength of his hind legs and moved through the gaps, coordinating with Ethan without thought. His jaws crunched the necks of the Frostwing Bats, killing over a dozen beasts in mere seconds as his sharp claws tore through their vital points.

Beside him, Iron Wolf stepped forward alongside the rest of the squad, his heavy claymore carving through three beasts in a single arc. The rest of the squad executed their roles, smashing and slashing the remaining creatures against heavy iron shields and swords as blood sprayed across the stone ramparts.

Below the walls, the heaviest beasts had finally reached the perimeter. Massive Forest Trolls and towering Glacier Trolls, monsters that had entered the realm of Beast Lords, slammed colossal stone clubs and tree-trunk bludgeons imbued with raw Primal Force against the base of the fortress. The impact echoed through the stone foundation for dozens of meters. Cracks spread along the masonry where the clubs landed, and the soldiers on that stretch of wall staggered into each other.

BOOM! BOOM!

Before the trolls could deliver a second strike, an oppressive aura flared along the lower battlements. Several Black Raven Knights leapt directly from the ramparts, their aura swirling like a storm. They sliced through the freezing air, heavy greatswords cutting down in devastating arcs.

The Beast Lords didn’t back down. Sensing the approaching danger, the trolls shifted their balance and dodged the aerial strikes.

KRRRR!

Glaring at the Knights with ferocious crimson eyes, the giant trolls cracked the frozen ground beneath them and leapt high into the air. They swung three-meter-wide stone clubs like massive flying boulders.

"Dodge!" the Knight Captain shouted, his voice ringing across the field as the squad deployed movement techniques to evade the crushing strike.

Landing smoothly, the Black Raven Unit regrouped instantly. Saliva dripped from the trolls’ jagged jaws as they lunged forward, crossing dozens of meters in a single stride.

The Knights moved in perfect sync, channeling a specialized battle formation.

BLACK RAVEN FORMATION ART, THIRD FORM: TALON SEVERANCE!

Swirling with aura, the Knights converged on the towering Beast Lords as one. In a single motion, their blades severed arms and crushed skulls, letting the trait the beasts were known for, their incomprehensible regeneration, go down the drain. The massive trolls collapsed, and the Knights retreated to their positions and began to attack the high-tier beasts trying to destroy the fortress walls.

Above them, the mages and archers maintained their relentless barrage, drawing line after line in the snow with fire and blood. Suddenly, an Orc General charging the wall hurled a massive battle axe hundreds of meters into the air, targeting a Mage Commander who was mid-cast and hadn’t noticed the incoming attack.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed as his gaze caught the flying axe, the Eternal Sovereign Blade already piercing through another monster. The soldiers surrounding him were occupied with killing the beasts climbing over the walls and failed to sense the incoming danger.

"Iron Wolf, take charge," Ethan barked.

Without waiting for a reply, Ethan moved instantly. There was considerable distance between them, and for the first time since the battle began he used his aura, pushing the Northern Gale Steps to its maximum.

The mage channeling his power into the circle was almost finished and about to attack when he suddenly saw the battle axe that would reach him in the blink of an eye. The whistle of it was already in his ears. His eyes closed in fear, the attack stopped, and the magic circle dissolved into motes of mana as he braced for death. A second later a sharp gust of wind brushed past his face. When he opened his eyes, he gasped: Ethan stood directly in front of him holding the heavy axe in his bare hand.

Then the mage’s eyes widened as he saw the Orc already reaching the battlements and swinging his heavy fists at them, imbued with crimson Primal Force whose density had already reached the level of an Intermediate Beast Lord. Before the mage could say anything, Ethan swung the battle axe he had just caught and hurled it back, imbuing it with his aura and the unknown energy at the same time.

Even with the purple mist controlling it, the Orc General’s instincts triggered with a sudden, overwhelming sense of death radiating from Ethan. The Black Reaper title he had gained recently activated naturally, casting an intimidating, suffocating presence over the beast. Ethan had tried hard over the past few weeks to see how it worked, but he still didn’t know how to control it. This time it triggered automatically.

GRRRRR!

It mumbled as it tried to dodge its own battle axe coming at it, but gripped by fear it couldn’t change direction, and the axe lodged into its fists, causing blood to pour out like a wave spilling onto the stones.

Ethan stepped back to dodge the monster’s fists. Before the Orc General could register what had happened, Ethan’s blade flashed through the air. The beast’s head, connected to a neck as tough as coiled steel, was cleanly severed, rising into the air with an expression of terror.

THUD

The head rolled off the battlement, and the body slowly began to fall, but before it could hit the floor Ethan raised his leg and kicked it hard in the stomach. Its enormous body rose into the air and fell onto the beasts charging at the walls, flattening them to the ground.

Everything happened in a few seconds, and the surrounding soldiers couldn’t even process what had happened. An Intermediate Beast Lord had died. Everyone looked at Ethan in surprise. If not for him, not only would the Mage Commander have died; the others would have been dead as well.

"T-Thanks," the mage said, followed by the others. Ethan just nodded and went back to killing beasts. Even Marcus and Evelyn’s eyes turned toward Ethan for a moment. Marcus’s gaze lingered a beat longer than Evelyn’s before he turned back to the wall.

Hours pressed on, and the tide did not thin by a fraction as dusk arrived. The archers’ and scouts’ fingers ached from constantly firing arrows. The mages’ mana was running low. The strength of the soldiers and mercenaries was draining rapidly. Sweat covered their whole bodies, and their muscles ached from the constant battle. Thousands of beast corpses piled up in front of the fortress, yet the charge didn’t thin. Healers hauled the wounded from the wall to the field stations, and fresh units rotated up to take the places of those who could no longer lift their weapons, but for every gap they filled, another opened somewhere else along the line.

Marcus and Evelyn kept killing the high-tier monsters, their attacks landing perfectly. Unlike the rest of the soldiers, their composure didn’t falter for a second. Every soldier who glanced their way gained courage from it, and that was exactly why neither of them could afford to stop.

———

Meanwhile, in the Winterveil Mountain Range

Riennal stood with his mad eyes looking at the fortress through the eyes of dozens of Shadow Beasts flying in the sky, watching the battle unfold. Even though they were only Apex Beasts, they possessed one of the most dangerous traits: if they stayed still, even high-level knights would find it difficult to sense them.

He glanced at Marcus for a second before shifting his gaze across the battlements, eventually locking onto Ethan amid the chaos. From dawn until now Ethan had slain over a thousand beasts, yet he showed no sign of exhaustion, unlike the others.

Looking at the young knight who refused to fall, Riennal felt his hatred flare.

"Kill him," he whispered into the dark.

Night descended over Northwatch, but the battle raged on unabated. Ethan and the mercenary squad kept killing the beasts, and Ethan also stepped in to shield the surrounding soldiers whenever gaps appeared.

As he slashed through another beast, Ethan’s Instincts flared violently. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

SPLURT!

Hot crimson blood spilled across the stone walls.