Age of Adepts c1-1513

by Zhen De Lao Lang, 真的老狼

The white-haired Knight Charles leaned on his runic longsword, standing on a corner of the tall hill, gazing at the woods in the distance. It left like a one-ton boulder was pressing upon his heart. Even breathing was difficult.

  In all seriousness, the witcher-knights on this hill were entrenched in this battle because they responded to his rallying call. Now, everyone was trapped on this hill. They could not move and could only wait for the next attacks from the adepts.

  What were those adepts hiding in the darkness plotting? Would they be able to successfully repel the attacks of the enemy, and last until the enemy had exhausted all their strength?

  Countless stray thoughts whirled about his mind and for one moment, he blanked out.

  The sound of footsteps sounded from behind.

  Even without turning to look, Charles was able to tell who it was from their familiar footsteps.

  As expected, the loud and steady voice of Knight Meusel rang out, "The enemy has temporarily retreated! The injured knights have also been treated."

  Charles’ determined expression turned into a downcast one as he spoke in a grave voice, "How are the losses on our side? How many knights are left that can ride a horse to battle?"

  "……" After a moment's silence, Meusel's voice had also become much more solemn, "The number of men that can still fight on a horse is 386. The rest… "

  They had lost nearly a hundred men in the first battle within the woods, under the ambush of the stealthy adepts. Another twenty or thirty knights had died on the arduous journey here. After the long and bloody battle earlier, only 386 men remained of the knights' main force. That meant that the battle earlier had caused a casualty of another three hundred men from the knight's army.

  Even though most of the casualties were from combat ability loss due to infection by the bio-toxins on the voodoo beasts' claws, what was the difference between death and having no fighting strength when they were under siege by the enemy? In fact, most of the time, it might have been easier for these severely injured knights to have just died under the claws of the voodoo beasts.

  After all, the witcher-knight army was known for its fast and ferocious attacks, as well as its quick speed across the battlefield. How were they supposed to break through the enemy's siege with three hundred casualties on their backs?

  The other radiant knights quickly gathered around Charles, firmly and stubbornly waiting for his orders.

  The muscles on Charles' face twitched slightly.

  How easy it was to just give an order! Yet, behind each order was pile after bloody pile of witcher-knight corpses.

  As the knights' leader, he knew clearly what order he needed to give out to save the lives of the remaining witcher-knights. However… once the words were about to leave his mouth, his snow white beard shook uncontrollably. He couldn't say it.

  Abandoning their companions! Giving up on their allies!

  Since when did the sacred and inviolable motto of the knights turn into numbers that could be added and subtracted on a paper?

  The more practical Meusel saw the pain of choosing on his leader's face and calmly spoke, "It is no longer possible to have everyone break through! Even if we left the sick and injured behind, we cannot get everyone else out. So Charles, please, bring the rest with you and break through! I'll stay behind with the other radiant knights and defend this hill. You bring some of the knights back to base and… ask for help. Windsor and the others won't hang us out to dry!"

  Meusel stopped when he spat out the words ‘ask for help’.

  As a proud radiant knight himself, it was undoubtedly another extremely difficult task to have Charles lower his head before that stubborn and conservative Windsor. However, the current situation left him no other choice.

  The muscles on Charles' face shook even more violently.

  Finally, the leader of the radical knights made his decision. He spoke, determined, "No, Meusel. The one returning shouldn't be me. I bear the greatest responsibility for this reckless march into the forest. So, I'll stay behind to reinforce the morale of the troops. You, Collier, Aneos, José– the four of you lead two hundred men back to request for reinforcements. You can tell Windsor that as long as he is willing to help, I will… I will be willing to hand over all of my authority… "

  All of a sudden, death-like silence filled the scene.

  Pain and struggle surfaced on the faces of all the knights of the radical faction.

  The moment Charles gave this order, it meant that the this faction would always be inferior to the knights of the conservative faction. This was something even more painful than death for the proud and arrogant knights.

  Yet, just as everyone's feelings were being turned upside down, a scream filled with terror rang out from a corner of the hill. Then, it came like a sweeping storm, as pained screams filled the entire camp.

  "What's all the fuss about?" Meusel drew his radiant runic longsword and shouted, "Keep calm, the enemy has yet to… "

  Before he could finish, his expression changed.

  A pungent odor of rot had spread throughout the camp along with the night mist that appeared in the woods. Like the cowherd's flute that enchanted the hearts of the people, when this pungent odor spread throughout the camp, the dying knights lying all over the hill had a sudden and terrifying change.

  The knights could see this clearly as a weak and injured knight lying closest to them started to cough violently. His pale face started to become flushed red. His teeth ground against each other and let out a screeching noise. Milk white foam surged forth from his mouth and nose.

  His eyes were opened wide, so wide that the corners of his eyes had started to split. Purple and black blood started to flow from every orifice. His body started to bend and contort into all sorts of unimaginable shapes.

  When the blood finished flowing, he started to scratch at his own body with all his strength. The strength with which he scratched his body caused deep gashes to be left all over his skin and body. Blood flowed endlessly.

  A witcher-knight in charge of taking care of him stepped forward to stop him. However, even using all his strength, he could not stop the knight's self-destructive acts and was bitten on the hand instead.

  The radiant knights all had exceptionally powerful physiques, but even they were feeling uncomfortable about what they were seeing. They looked about in fear before realizing the cause of the chaos in the camp.

  The mist!

  No. More specifically, some mysterious substance was mixed into the mist!

  The injured knights within the camp were undoubtedly the ones who were weakest, both physically and mentally. Thus, one could see with the naked eye how some mysterious black particles within the mist surged into the wounds on their bodies like swimming fish. When one looked from a distance, they could see that every injured man on the hill was shrouded in a thick black fog.

  The injured knights within the thick fogs struggled in pain, tearing at the armor and shirts on their bodies, even scratching and hurting their own flesh and skin. It was as if they wanted to tear their skin off.

  As the black fog seeped into the bodies of the injured, their bodies started to change massively.

  The skin on the surface started to dissolve. The bright red muscles and tendons were exposed to the air, causing all the knights to appear extremely red. However, very gradually, the blood-red color started to fade and a sort of sticky and disgusting liquid began to fill the surface of their bodies, completely soaking them.

  The thick muscles and tendons started to meld together. Insufficient stretching caused their bodies to become thin and scrawny. However, it was obvious that the strength in their bones and muscles had greatly increased. They screamed and roared in anger. Initially, it still sounded like the pained and sorrowful cries of a human. By the end, it started to sound like a wild beast, only left with an odd growl.

  Sharp fangs, claws and spines started to grow rapidly. When ‘their’ claws unconsciously ran across a boulder, it let out the scr
eeching sound of scraping as bright flaming sparks appeared.

  Right in front of the radiant knights, and right on this hill, a previously injured knight on his deathbed had rapidly converted into an undead. They had been forcefully converted by evil powers into an undead being that had never before appeared on the knights' plane– a ghoul!

  Having been completely changed to an undead, this ghoul turned its body and crouched on the ground. Its eyes, missing their eyelids, suddenly turned around, revealing milk-white and turbid eyeballs, so white one couldn't see the pupils in them

  Even though they had no pupils, this was no obstacle for the ghoul. Its unique senses made it especially sensitive to life force! It opened its mouth wide, revealing sharp fangs, before letting out a deep and threatening roar directed towards the radiant knights.

  It bent its body, and with a powerful kick of its strong hind legs, the ghoul leapt towards the witcher-knight closest to it like an arrow shot out of a bow.

  The witcher-knight was evidently stunned by the scene before him. He stumbled backwards in fear, but never ever thought of drawing his sword and resisting. This… this was a companion he used to know!

  As a radiant knight, Meusel had undoubtedly experienced far more terrifying and strange things in his life compared to the young witcher-knights. He quickly struggled free from the shock and fear. With a quick step forward, he drew his sword and smacked the leaping ghoul's body with the flat side of the blade.

  "Stay down!"

  The ghoul was smashed and blasted away along with his roar, and crashed into a small tree as wide as a human's waist ten meters away, knocking it down. Crack! The loud snap of breaking bones cracked in the ghoul's body.

  However, it was obvious that this blow did not cripple the ghoul.

  It rolled about the ground several times. When it finally got up, most of the bones on the front of its body had been completely shattered. However, it struggled and got up from the ground as if the wounds didn't bother it, dragging its broken body and leaping towards Meusel once more.

  "Die!"

  Meusel finally recognized the reality. He no longer held back. The large sword in his hand glowed brilliantly, and like a sharp knife sliding through a piece of paper, he silently sliced the ghoul in two. However, the mild pause of the blade he felt when the longsword slashed through the spine of the ghoul caused his expression to sour.

  He was an actual Second Grade radiant knight!

  If even he felt a slight delay when he cut through this monster, how would the other witcher-knights fare against these monsters?

  There was no time for him to think, as the entire camp was instantly engulfed in a rain of blood!

  Chapter 208

  Such an evil undead like the ghoul had never appeared on the knights' plane.

  Some wild undead beings occasionally appeared in rural areas. However, most of those were low-level skeletons with creaking bones, or withered corpses that shambled about slowly. The worst of those were only spectres that had lost their souls.

  As for an elite undead such as ghouls- they never appeared naturally without the existence of an undead manipulator.

  Today, under the infection of the plagues and viruses of the voodoo beasts, along with the catalyzation of the black fog, the injured witcher-knights were unable to resist the powerful magic and were all converted into strong and lithe ghouls. Perhaps because the physiques of this group of knights were extremely exceptional, the ghouls that they turned into also possessed extraordinary strength and physique.

  Of course, the agility unique to ghouls was once again amplified as well!

  They were like a group of humans who had been skinned, then soaked in pungent water for several days and nights. Their entire body had a pale color to it, like the drowned. What's more, the surface of their body was sticky, moist, and let out an extremely pungent odor.

  The converted ghouls gathered into groups under the horrified gaze of the witcher-knights, launching an attack on the surrounding humans. One after another, surprised witcher-knights were barely able to draw their longswords before they were tackled to the ground by the pouncing ghouls.

  Their sharp claws and immense physical strength made attacks unnaturally powerful. The knights' armor, as thick as an entire finger, was easily shredded and penetrated as if paper. The ghouls crouched on the witcher-knights’ bodies, baring their sharp fangs and biting the knights on their necks.

  Just a single bite and the knights would lose half their necks. Their bloody cervical spine, shattered throat, the fountains of blood that gushed outward… all of this instantly caused the knights to lose their ability to resist. They could only press their hands against the gaping holes on their necks as they drowned in the blood flowing from their orifices, not even able to let out a final call for help.

  Of course, there were some knights with quicker reactions that were able to draw their runic longswords and fight valiantly against the ghouls that charged forward.

  However, most of the excess fat and unnecessary organs within the ghouls' body had already been dissolved. Under the nourishment from all the flesh and blood on their bodies, the ghouls’ bones had become extremely large and dense, while their muscles and tendons had become as thick and tough as steel wire. This caused every slash of the witcher-knights to feel like a cut on an extremely tough and old tree. The resistance they felt from their blades shocked them.

  With no choice left to them, all the witcher-knights had to activate the runic arrays on their longswords. As the scarlet or azure runic energies flowed across their longswords, the fight against the ghouls became slightly easier.

  As hard and tough as the ghouls' bones and bodies were, they were no match for the sharpness of the runic weapons.

  The witcher-knights quickly regained their advantage, pushing the numerous ghouls to a corner of the camp. However, in that mere fifteen minutes of chaos, another forty witcher-knights had become the victims of the ghouls’ sharps fangs and claws. Their flesh that had been ravaged and torn to several pieces, as well as bodies that had been bitten and mauled all over, filled the chests of the witcher-knights with a fiery anger that could burn the skies.

  Those accursed adepts! They should be diced into a thousand pieces!

  Knight Meusel strode forward, and with a single horizontal slash, he released a destructive flame blade that appeared as an unstoppable red scimitar. It slashed forward for fifty meters, finally disappearing when it sliced through a large tree. In the time it sliced through the air, the pale and bloated bodies of seven ghouls had silently split into two, their black and sticky blood soaking the dirt beneath their feet.

  "Do not get caught up in a battle with them, hurry to your colts, we… " Meusel's loud and powerful voice suddenly stopped, replaced with a face full of shock and fear.

  In a corner of the camp, where the knights had placed their colts, the black fog was present and had already engulfed the entire area.

  Under the effect of the magic, colts repeatedly fell to the ground with pained cries. Blood was flowing endlessly out of every pore in their bodies.

  Purple and black blood!

  The magic colts who had spent years as the companions of the witcher-knights were almost dead!

  For one moment, even a radiant knight like Meusel couldn't help but feel nauseous. Everything before his eyes seemed to blur.

  They were knights, after all! Knights that spent their lives on the backs of horses, dominating battlefields with the help of magic colts!

  The delicate but hard knight's armor. The delicate shield that could generate an energy barrier. The iron gauntlets, iron kneepads, and metal pads that ensured both agility and defense, as well as the runic longswords and runic bows that were forged from unique metals… disregarding all the minor decorative ornaments, just a set of runic equipment alone weighed forty-five kilograms.

  Only the sturdy magic colts could carry such heavy equipment as well as the weight of the knights. Disregarding riding across mountains
and rough terrain, even running two rounds around the camp would have exhausted a normal warhorse.

  The radiant knights saw black before their eyes and almost fainted when they saw their magic colts being slaughtered by the adepts.

  Yet just at this very moment, countless screams, cries, and roars rang out in the woods around the camp. That group of accursed voodoo beasts had chosen to attack again!

  Suddenly, the dark night sky above the hill, along with the canvas of bright stars, had once again been replaced by roiling red clouds. Several hundred lava bubbles of all sizes were forming in the clouds. Every time one of the bubbles popped, blinding red light and burning flames would spill out from within.

  The red clouds shook and thundered. A large Meteor Shower was about to form in the blink of an eye!

  The leader of the knights, Charles, stumbled two steps forward, and coughed out blood on the ground before him. Several of his companions rushed forward to help him up, but he pushed them away. Charles drew his longsword with all his strength, and blinding flames instantly rose on the blade.

  "Leave, hurry and leave… ignore the injured and the magic colts in the base! Quick, have everyone gather and break through in one direction!" Charles waved his large sword and shouted his orders with all his strength, his snow white beard already stained with blood.

  Having given his orders, Charles felt the blood in his body boiling. A violent and imposing force started to gather wildly around him. When his aura of might had reached its peak, Charles let out a shoat that shook the entire forest as he lashed out with the flame longsword in his hand. A bright red blade slashed apart the skies and blasted into the surging red clouds.

  The very next moment, the Meteor Shower that had neared completion went out of control!

  The unstable fire elementium that had been densely concentrated had their internal structure destroyed by that red blade, instantly causing Greem to lose control over the flame cloud. A gigantic apocalyptic volcano erupted above the skies, forming an enormous flame pillar that looked like a mushroom cloud, before turning into a sea of flames and falling to the forest beneath.