volume 5: CHAPTER 18

VOLUME 5: CHAPTER 18

Since time is of the essence, Lark’s group didn’t stop in any cities to spend the night. Instead, they hired the fastest carriage, stopping only to allow the horses to recuperate for a couple of hours, before moving out again for the Capital. 

Everything had been going on smoothly. At this rate, they would arrive at their destination several days earlier than they anticipated. 

Two horse-drawn carriages moved through the forest leading to the Capital. 

“We’re almost there, Your Highness,” said Parzival, as he looked through the window of the carriage. The sea of trees blurred as they sped by. 

The Princess clenched her fists. Finally, she would see her father. And this time, she would no longer be the helpless daughter she initially was. 

“Parzival, we’ll be able to finally cure my father, right? said the Princess. It was more of question for herself than her knight. 

“We can only hope for the best, Princess,” said Parzival. 

Parzival remembered the town ruled by Lark Marcus. Even now, he still wondered how the second son of Duke Drakus managed to develop that territory to such extent. 

The Princess probably hadn’t noticed it, but that town was growing at an exponential rate despite being surrounded by nothing but vast wilderness. He’d seen the water system, the farmlands, the paved roads, the southern district, and the structures being built at the east. 

A ruler as competent as that Lord wouldn’t lie to them regarding the cure of His Majesty, right? 

As they were lost in their thoughts, the carriage suddenly stopped. 

Parzival said to the coachman. “What happened? Why did you stop?” 

“About that,” the coachman meekly replied. “A fallen tree’s blocking the path, Sir.” 

“A tree?”

Parzival peeked outside the window and saw a large tree blocking the road. 

“We’ll move the tree out of the way, Your Highness. Please stay inside the carriage.”

Parzival nodded at his fellow knights – Tomas and Andrew. The three of them went out of the carriage, while the remaining two knights remained inside with the Princess. 

“Let’s quickly move this tree out of the wa—” 

Parzival stopped midway in his speech. He noticed something peculiar with the tree. Looking closely, its large trunk was cut cleanly. He realized that this tree was deliberately put here in the middle of the road. 

His instinct screamed at him that this might be a trap. 

He was about to warn his fellow knights when suddenly, arrows flew from the sea of trees. Parzival quickly parried them with his sword, but the unsuspecting Andrew and Tomas were mercilessly shot down by the arrows. The horses neighed and the coachman cried – even them weren’t spared from the surprise attack. 

“Tomas! Andrew!” shouted Parzival. “Damn it! We’re under attack!” 

Hundreds of men clad in black started appearing from the shadow of the nearby trees. Those at the rear continued firing their arrows, while those in front started running toward Parzival. 

At the corner of his eyes, Parzival saw Tomas gasping for air, his neck pierced by an arrow. But despite being on the verge of death, Tomas forced his body to move. He touched his bracer and activated its stored magic. A dome-shaped barrier made of mana appeared and enclosed the two carriages, preventing the arrows from hitting them. The men clad in black started striking the barrier with their sword, but it was surprisingly strong, forming only minute cracks with each strike. 

Tomas grinned after he successfully activated his magic. His hands fell down and he went limp. 

Parzival used this opening and ran toward his two comrades. Andre was hit by the arrow right at the head. He was dead. And now, Tomas was on his last breath. 

“T-Tomas!” cried Parzival. 

Everything happened in an instant. He couldn’t even warn them as the arrows shot toward them from the forest. 

The remaining two knights went out of the first carriage, and upon seeing the hundreds of men clad in black surrounding them, they pulled out their weapons. Lark, Chryselle, and Anandra also went out of the second carriage. 

Lark looked around him – at the dead coachmen and horses, the dying knight, and at the hundreds of enemies surrounding them. 

“Tomas!” croaked Parzival. “Please!”

Tomas had long stopped gasping for air, after activating his spell. 

Lark approached the unmoving knight and pulled the arrow stuck in his neck, making some blood splatter on his cheek. With brisk but calm movements, Lark took a small vial from his pouch and poured the liquid inside onto the wound of the dying knight.

To Parzival’s surprise, the wound on Tomas’ neck sizzled and rapidly closed on its own. 

What the hell was that thing, for it to heal a deep wound in a matter of seconds? Even the alchemists in the capital shouldn’t be capable of creating a potion as potent as this. 

A burst of light shot from Lark’s fingertips and struck the chest of Tomas. A few seconds after, Tomas opened his eyes, gasped for air, and vomited out bile. 

Tomas coughed several times, his chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“He should be fine. Although it’ll take a couple of hours before he could move around like he used to before,” said Lark. He looked around them. Although he’d managed to prevent the knight from dying, the fact that they were currently surrounded by hundreds of enemies remained. 

Outside the barrier, five men, which appeared to be the leader of the group gazed at Parzival and Lark. 

“That’s Parzival, the knight of Princess Esmeralda,” said one of them. He then looked at Lark. “Silver hair, blue eyes. A member of the Marcus Family, without a doubt. Lark Marcus. The Princess. Her knights.” The man snapped his fingers. “Bring their lifeless bodies to me.” 

On cue, the attacks of the assassins became fiercer. It was only a matter of time before barrier Tomas had cast would shatter.

The hair at Parzival’s nape bristled upon meeting the gaze of those five men. For some reason, they reminded him of Instructor Mikael.  

Parzival wondered what would happen if those five indeed have the same strength as the Instructor. Even if all the knights here gave up their lives, the Princess might still not survive. 

“Go back to the carriage. My disciples and I will handle these guys,” said Lark. He activated the mithril cubes and they started flying toward him, until the two hovered right above his head. 

“But—” Parzival could see that these guys weren’t your ordinary, everyday assassins. 

“—We need someone to restrain and protect the Princess. That sheltered brat might suddenly jump out of the carriage at any time.”

At the corner of his eyes, Lark saw the Princess looking at what was happening outside through the carriage’s window. 

Parzival was still hesitant. 

“Look, only if the knights are protecting the Princess,” said Lark. “Will I be able fight to my heart’s content.”

Although it felt like Lark was telling them that they’ll be just a hindrance, Parzival and the knights finally conceded and accepted the proposal of Lark. They went back to their carriage and surrounded it, ready to intercept any attacks against the Princess. 

They’d heard from credible sources that the second son of Duke Drakus was a monster magician. Furthermore, they’d also seen during their stay in Blackstone Town the strength of Chryselle and Anandra. 

Worse comes to worse, in the event that Lark and his disciples were defeated, they could just use the opening to grab the Princess and run away to safety. 

After all, the Princess was their top priority. Everything else was secondary. 

Finally, the barrier of Tomas broke. Arrows started pouring from the sky and dozens of assassins ran toward Lark, Anandra, and Chryselle. 

Lark activated the runes in one of the mithril cubes, and two dome-shaped barriers made of wind magic enclosed the first and second carriage. Unlike the spell of Tomas, this wind barrier repaired itself immediately, and would continue to do so until the crystallized mana inside the first mithril cube was depleted. 

Three assassins finally reached Lark. Without hesitation, they aimed for his neck with their blades. 

Lark activated the second mithril cube and it separated into eight smaller pieces. Three of them immediately moved and parried the attacks of the three assassins. 

Using this opening, the remaining five pieces violently spun around and shot forward, piercing the heads of the assassins, shattering their skulls and killing them in an instant. 

At the same time, Lark concurrently cast three spells. Wind blades, lightning spears, and earth spikes shot toward the other enemies, killing them one after another. 

Chryselle, also cast her spell, creating three lightning serpents, which immediately slithered through the battlefield, devouring the assassins. 

As expected of an Elder of Wizzert. She could hold her ground even against dozens of enemies. 

Anandra, on the other hand, used the same old technique he was familiar with – he amplified the strength of his body with mana, and started cutting down his enemies using his sword. The enemies couldn’t even touch him, as he simply sidestepped and dodged each attack, as though he’d already memorized his enemies’ pattern of attacks beforehand. 

While Lark and his two disciples were busy dealing with the assassins, several men tried attacking the two carriages. But to their horror, the moment they touched the barrier, their bodies were immediately cleaved in half by wind magic. 

Another group of assassins tried to shatter it using their swords, only to meet the same fate as the ones before them. The moment their swords struck the barrier, the barrier spell retaliated and cut their bodies with wind blades.

Seeing this, the other assassins no longer tried to break the barrier with brute force. Those capable of magic started firing spells on it, one after another. 

Lark frowned. Although there was still a lot of crystallized mana stored inside the first cube, it would be quickly depleted if the enemies bombard the barrier with their spells. 

He knew he had to finish the fight quickly, before the cubes ran out of mana. Otherwise, he would be forced to protect those inside the carriages himself. 

He strictly forbade Austen and George from joining the battle. They were currently inside the carriage, hiding. Their spell casting speed was still too slow; the enemies would have killed them several times before they could even complete a simple fireball spell. 

“Let’s end this,” Lark mumbled. 

At the same time, five men, which appeared to be this assassin group’s leaders, started to move. 

One of them used concealment magic and blended with the shadows around them. He vanished then emerged, like a fish in water, from Lark’s shadow. Without a sound, he stabbed his sword toward Lark’s neck.

But to the assassin’s surprise, the pieces of the mithril cube blocked the attack. The leader immediately cast his spell and his shadow distorted, turning into six spears, before shooting toward Lark Marcus. 

The pieces of mithril cubes blocked each strike, as though they had a life of their own. Filled with disbelief that a mere artifact was blocking all of his attacks, the assassin leader started cussing and sped up his attacks. 

Lark pulled out the cheap iron sword he bought from Garma’s shop. He amplified the strength of his body using magic and started striking back at the assassin leader. 

The mithril cubes also started to go on the offensive, but the six shadow spears managed to parry its attacks. The assassin leader was clearly proficient with the sword, as Lark failed to land a single strike on him despite the help of the mithril cube. 

“Annoying,” Lark clicked his tongue. 

If swordsmanship wasn’t enough, then he’ll just supplement was he was lacking with magic. 

With Lark’s absurdly fast spell casting speed, two magic circles appeared on the ground. The ground trembled, and for a moment, the assassin leader lost his footing. Using this opening, a large stone golem rose from the ground and grabbed the assassin leader. Without hesitation, the golem crushed the human using its large hands. The assassin leader coughed out blood. 

A piece of mithril shot towards the assassin leader, shattering his skull. 

Lark had yet to catch his breath when two assassin leaders appeared behind him. One tried to stab him with the sword, while the other summoned several earth spikes from the ground. 

Lark leapt back, but the two assassin leaders immediately followed through with their attacks. The first one channeled lightning magic into his sword and slashed at Lark, while the other one willed the earth spikes to transform into earth serpents and chase after its target. 

Despite its large size, Lark’s stone golem agilely moved in front of its master and shielded him from the attacks. It crossed both its arms and absorbed the brunt force of the impact.

The lightning spell destroyed the arms of the golem, while the earth serpents shattered its trunk. The golem knelt down, before forming numerous cracks and turning into dust. 

Without stopping, the two assassin leaders shot toward Lark. At the same time, dozens of their subordinates also aimed for his life. Some of them started firing orbs of lightning, wind blades, ice shards, poison arrows.

The moment Lark blocked or dodged an attack, another one would shoot toward him in an instant. 

This group must have heard of his feats in the war with the Empire, as they made sure not to give him any room to breathe and cast magic. They continued firing spells one after another, forcing Lark to be on the defensive. 

Lark quickly scanned the battlefield. Chryselle was being pushed back after an assassin leader started targeting her. She’d been forced to create several mana shields to block the incessant attacks from all around her. Anandra, on the other hand, was massacring several assassins using skills and brute force alone. Even the assassin leader targeting him had already lost an arm and was now trying to maintain his distance. 

Lark looked at the barrier protecting the carriage. It should be able to block attacks for a few minutes more, before the mithril cube eventually ran out of mana.

Let’s finish this.

The pieces of mithril cubes scattered and moved about, blocking the attacks of Lark’s enemies. Using this opening, Lark cast flight magic and flew up into the sky. 

Colossal amount of mana started oozing out of his body and a thirty-meter wide magic circle started forming above him. 

With absurdly fast casting speed incomparable even to royal court magicians, layers upon layers of runes started forming and overlapping with each other, creating the magic circle. 

The assassins must have realized that Lark was trying to cast Grand Scale Magic. They desperately fired spells at him, one after another, but the pieces of mithril formed a translucent barrier and blocked all of the attacks, giving Lark enough time to complete his spell. 

Lark grinned. These guys were strong, but they were nothing but small fries when compared to General Alvaren. Thinking back on his fight against that old man, this fight seemed trivial. 

Grand Scale Magic wasn’t enough to kill the Magic Slayer of the Empire. But it should be more than enough to kill these pesky flies. 

Without uttering a word, Lark activated his spell. 

Grand Scale Magic – Will of the Dryad.

The ground shook and the trees started uprooting themselves. Faces, which resembled a human in despair, started forming on the bark of the trees. 

“W-What’s happening?!” cried one of the assassins. 

Everyone was aghast when the entire forest came into life. The moment the trees have uprooted themselves, they started slaughtering the assassins. Roots and branches shot from all directions and pierced the bodies of Lark’s enemies. Leaves infused with mana turned into blades and rained down, cutting the assassins on the ground. 

“What the hell is this!?”

“Why are the trees suddenly attacking us!?”

Shouts, screams, and death throes echoed in the forest as the sea of trees continued slaughtering the assassins. 

The assassin leaders resisted, and they even managed to cut and burn down several monster trees. But Lark knew that it was only a matter of time before all of the assassins were annihilated. 

Minutes passed. The assassin leaders realized they couldn’t win and tried retreating, but the monster trees formed barriers made of roots and twigs. 

There was no escaping the living forest. 

Seeing that escaping was near impossible, the assassins fought for dear life. They cut down the trees one after another, but soon, the accumulated injuries and fatigue started to wear them down. Those who stopped to recuperate for a second was pierced by a root, and those who failed to protect their backs were cut by the mana-infused leaves.

The assassins were dropping dead like kelnup flies. 

When almost all of the enemies were dead, Lark flew down and landed on the ground. He walked toward the only remaining survivor – the assassin leader Chryselle had fought. 

The limping assassin leader glared at Lark for a moment, before pointing his blade at his own neck. Since they’d failed, he’d rather die than be interrogated by this monster. 

“I still have questions for you.” 

Vines quickly shot up from the ground and ensnared the assassin leader’s body. The assassin tried to move his body but failed. 

If killing himself with the blade isn’t feasible, then magic was the only remaining option. The assassin leader tried summoning earth spikes from the ground to pierce his body, but to his surprise, his spell wouldn’t activate no matter what. 

He stared at Lark and realized that this young man had just interfered with his spell, cancelling it right at the middle of runes formation. 

The assassin leader’s eyes widened. Impossible. 

That feat should be impossible to pull off unless one had spell casting speed several times faster than your average magician. Furthermore, one should have an absurdly fine control over his mana to interfere with the spell of another magician. 

It was easy to guess what was going on through the assassin’s mind after looking at his stupefied expression. Lark said, “It’s pretty easy to cancel low-tier spells of a disabled enemy. There’s a limited number of spells you could cast in a short time, after all.” 

Lark grabbed the assassin leader’s mask and pulled it off. 

Bald head, thick mustache, round eyes. A man in his middle forties. He looked ordinary, the face of someone you’d frequently see on the roadside. 

The assassin glared at Lark, his face clearly saying that he wouldn’t spill out any information, no matter what. 

“I still have some mana left in the mithril cubes.” Lark grinned. He found it amusing. “I don’t mind spending an entire day reading fragments of your memories.” 

The assassin leader shuddered upon hearing those words. He never knew such magic existed. 

Lark placed his hand on the assassin’s face.

“Now, let’s start.”