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Chapter 88: The Dead and the King Part 4
The ghost knight raised its lance for a third time, its movements noticeably slower. Seizing the opportunity before it could strike, Tiger Finch loosed an arrow. The azure wind-binding arrow struck the demonic steed squarely in front of its hooves. A burst of cyan light dissolved into a swirling vortex of wind that coiled around the creature’s legs. The binding effect took hold, and both the ghost knight and its mount slowed further.
—12.7%.
Brandon glanced at the numbers projected onto his retinal display, then at Tiger Finch. That shot had been impeccable. The binding effect was nearly maximized, even though the ghost knight hadn’t fully accelerated yet. Its trajectory remained unpredictable to anyone below Iron Rank—meaning Tiger Finch had relied purely on instinct. Rubis mercenaries truly lived up to their reputation.
With the opening secured, Brandon grabbed the mercenary captain and retreated swiftly. The ghost knight’s attack landed precisely where they had stood moments ago. Though its speed had decreased by nearly ten percent, it still far outpaced them. Their only advantage now was distance, which equated to precious seconds.
The duration of both the wind-binding arrow and the ice-splitting arrow exceeded five minutes unless actively dispelled. Even with penalties for lower-tier spells affecting higher-tier targets, Brandon was confident the effects would last at least two minutes and twenty seconds.
Less than fifty meters to the prearranged ambush point.
After missing its strike, the ghost knight immediately unleashed a piercing thrust. The tip of its lance seemed to create a gravitational collapse, warping the air with sonic booms as space itself appeared to distort. Surrounding trees bent inward, groaning before snapping like twigs, sucked toward the epicenter as if caught in a storm.
When Brandon saw the ghost knight begin its move, he let out a sharp yell. Thousand-Man Strike—a signature move used by ghost knights to annihilate groups of enemies. Countless players unfamiliar with this skill had fallen victim to it early in the game. But not today. He wasn’t about to let fear get the better of him.
Dragging Tiger Finch along, Brandon darted into the maze of jagged rocks. With a flick of his wrist, he activated Energy Drain—a flash of emerald card magic dissipated as quickly as it appeared. The ghost knight’s hollow form shuddered violently, inflicting over three hundred points of damage upon itself.
Brandon couldn’t help but laugh inwardly. His hunch had been correct. Energy Drain worked against Thousand-Man Strike. Despite the spell’s immense power, players had long discovered simple ways to counter it: Domain Wizards could cast Stasis Fields, while Elementalists employed Binding Curses or similar anti-magic spells to nullify it entirely.
Energy Drain, being a reactive spell, might have worked—and it did. The ghost knight’s attack drained nearly a third of its own life force, triggering a two-second stun state before entering full combat mode. However, such high-ranking undead were no fools. Having suffered from this mistake, it wouldn’t use Thousand-Man Strike again anytime soon. This meant Brandon needn’t worry about another barrage of devastating attacks.
Two seconds. For someone at Iron Rank strength, covering fifty meters was child’s play. By the time the ghost knight recovered, Brandon and Tiger Finch were already waiting at the designated ambush point, panting heavily.
Everything up to this point had been executed under extreme conditions. Even Brandon and the seasoned mercenary captain were feeling the strain. Yet Tiger Finch, sweating profusely, couldn’t help but glance at Brandon, wondering what methods this Planeswalker lord had to bridge the gap in strength.
He wasn’t alone in his thoughts. Everyone present shared the same question.
In fact, when the twin Elementalist sisters witnessed the ghost knight’s first assault, their hands and feet went numb. Such a battle transcended their comprehension. While Rubis mercenaries were famed for their valor, comparing mere mortal warfare to this was like contrasting a child’s scuffle with a tempest. Above mid-tier Silver Rank, battles operated on an entirely different plane of understanding.
There was a famous incident recorded in Amber Sword during the late First Era in Cruze’s White Ludi City. Eleven Gold-Rank players clashed in a skirmish sparked by a single player’s actions. The resulting destruction obliterated half the city, which was home to five hundred thousand people. Though those players eventually faced exile, the event showcased the sheer devastation higher-rank individuals could unleash. In its wake, nations tightened regulations on adventurers—but that was another story.
Even Antietta, the well-read noblewoman, found herself speechless after witnessing the ghost knight’s Thousand-Man Strike. The overwhelming force seemed capable of distorting nature itself—or at least creating the illusion of doing so. It left onlookers trembling with despair. The younger of the Elementalist sisters began to tremble visibly, her elder sister holding her tightly as they gritted their teeth and endured. Likewise, the rest of the Rubis mercenaries held firm; lesser mercenaries would have fled without a second thought.
Mercenaries adhered to codes of honor, but humans were only human.
Everyone held their breath.
And then, as if by divine intervention, a miracle occurred.
As the ghost knight charged forward, it halted abruptly at a certain point, as though restrained by some invisible barrier. Its glowing eyes peered through its visor at the group ahead, and it swung its lance twice, unleashing two waves of invisible pressure.
The wind blasts carved deep trenches into the ground, toppling black pines everywhere. But alas, the gusts dissipated harmlessly before reaching Brandon and Tiger Finch.
What was happening?
The mercenaries watched in disbelief as the ghost knight lingered behind the unseen line, futilely wielding its lance in vain attempts to strike down their lord and captain. Each effort proved fruitless—it simply couldn’t reach them. At that moment, many whispered prayers of gratitude, convinced Lady Marsha herself must be watching over their leader.
Even Antietta’s eyes sparkled with awe, though her expression quickly shifted to suspicion.
Roma clasped her hands together, exhaling with relief as a smile spread across her face. She thought proudly of Brandon: Auntie, look! Little Roma has found an excellent partner too.
The mercenaries cheered, and even Tiger Finch stared at Brandon incredulously. But Brandon felt no ease. He had anticipated every detail—the ghost knight’s activity range indeed ended here. Predicting this hadn’t been difficult; one merely needed to calculate based on the monster lord’s patrol radius. Ghost knights typically patrolled small areas, especially scripted ones like this. There was even a formula involved, though Brandon had never bothered memorizing it. Experience sufficed.
He signaled behind him: everyone enter the ghost knight’s attack range.
Confusion rippled through the group.
Isn’t this perfect? We can hit it, but it can’t touch us. Almost everyone thought the same, some even raising crossbows hesitantly, fearing their lord might’ve momentarily lost his mind and forgotten their ranged capabilities.
“My lord…” Tiger Finch ventured cautiously.
“Follow my orders,” Brandon cut him off. Things weren’t so simple. If the ghost knight kept failing to reach them, it would retreat. Scripted monsters weren’t stupid.
Reluctantly, the mercenaries obeyed, stepping within range. Fortunately, slowed by the ice-splitting arrow’s debuff, the ghost knight’s movements became predictable. Experienced fighters like these mercenaries easily dodged its wind pressure attacks.
Brandon knew that unless it unleashed Thousand-Man Strike again, even these Rubis mercenaries could evade its attacks indefinitely. All the ghost knight could do was wave its lance ineffectually, asserting its presence.
The mercenaries quickly realized this. The scene devolved into something almost comical. The ghost knight resembled a frustrated farmer trying to whack moles, while the mercenaries scurried about like rodents, occasionally retaliating with ranged weapons. The difference? The ghost knight never landed a blow, and the mercenaries cared little for appearances.
Survival was all that mattered.
Tiger Finch gaped at the spectacle. If the ghost knight’s terrifying prowess had exceeded his expectations earlier, this bizarre turn of tactics shattered his understanding anew. After decades of warfare, he’d never encountered combat quite like this.
Seeing Tiger Finch’s expression, Brandon felt a flicker of pride. He knew that throughout history, pivotal battles often hinged on the decisions of a select few. Knowledge resided in the hands of the elite, shaping military strategy into rigid patterns.
But Brandon was different. Half of his soul hailed from a world of advanced civilization, where widespread education empowered individuals to think creatively. In that era, boundless innovation allowed gamers to devise endless strategies within virtual worlds.
An adage from his time summed it up: “The freer the rules, the craftier the players.”
Players always sought efficient solutions, unconstrained by convention. They exploited every available resource and advantage to overwhelm opponents, achieving what amounted to “unrestricted warfare.”
Brandon exuded confidence, embodying humanity’s collective ingenuity. From his vantage point, he surveyed this struggling, suffering world—one clawing its way through darkness.
Without a word, he handed the remaining ice-splitting arrows to Tiger Finch. He trusted the veteran mercenary to know when to apply debuffs. Ice-splitting arrows were among the most common magical projectiles; Rubis’ Mercenaries surely understood their use.
Yet the mercenary captain hesitated. “My lord?”
Brandon simply nodded.
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