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Chapter 118: The Final Battle Part 7
The reports came flooding in from every channel.
At the rear of the grand temple complex of Balrogan, the heart of the structure was formed by the central ceremonial hall and a series of prayer sanctuaries. This hall had once been claimed by Hjúkigr, connected to the elevated platform altar behind it. Beyond that, rows of monks' quarters lined the area, bordered by two outer walls at the edge of the ancient elven ruins.
The ceremonial hall was not only the tallest building in the ruins but also the keystone at the center of the entire architectural complex’s axis.
It was also the first place Antietta had set her sights on.
The mercenaries moved like ants through the ruins, carrying out Antietta’s orders as they traversed the courtyards of the grand temple. These courtyards, once serene spaces where the Silver Elves’ monks prayed and meditated, were now reduced to rubble. The elegant white cloisters, once pristine and radiant, were now mere skeletal columns standing silent sentry amidst the desolation. Whispers of the past seemed to linger between these stone pillars, recounting stories of what this sacred ground once was.
In this eerie quiet, the first three scouts from the Rubis mercenary company reached their destination. They secured their position along the second outer wall at the northwest corner of the ceremonial hall and observed the movements of the lizardfolk emerging from the forest.
The Silver Elves had constructed two outer walls to defend this holy site. But after centuries of neglect, the fortifications had crumbled into near-uselessness. By now, aside from the height difference between the second and first walls, there was little left to protect the rear of the ceremonial hall—and the lizardfolk hadn’t bothered repairing them either.
There were two reasons for this. First, they lacked the ability. The defensive system crafted by the elves was intricate and masterfully designed; even Hjúkigr, with all his cunning, couldn’t fathom how to rebuild the shattered fortifications. Second, they didn’t need to. In this forest, the lizardfolk brigands’ only predators had been drunken brawls among themselves, which typically resulted in double-digit casualties each year.
Of course, now there was another predator added to the list: Brandon.
The second group arrived at a breach on the opposite side.
“The lizardfolk have crossed the forest—”
“They’re advancing toward the ruins.”
“Numbers exceed one hundred.”
“A commander has been spotted.”
The mercenaries relayed these messages via hand signals, all of which fell under Antietta’s watchful gaze.
The young noblewoman lifted her skirts and hurried across the ceremonial hall alone, reaching the elevated platform used for important rituals. From here, the highest point in the ruins, she could survey the entirety of the temple’s rear section.
The labyrinthine defenses of the Silver Elves suddenly became clear to her.
Lowering her head, she compared the scene before her to the hastily sketched diagram in her hand. Though rough and incomplete due to time constraints, it was remarkably accurate. Her professional knowledge of architecture served her well; this fortress system, dating back five centuries to the Silver Elves, was one she knew intimately.
Turning back, she summoned all her strength to hoist a makeshift banner—a crude contraption of two spears lashed together, topped with a plain gray cloth. It bore no emblem or insignia, nothing to mark its purpose.
That fabric had been cut from Brandon’s own cloak.
She raised the flag and pointed it in a specific direction—
This gesture carried two meanings.
First, it signaled to Minnis and Tiger Finch ahead that the rear defenses still held firm. As long as the banner stood, they wouldn’t need to divert forces elsewhere.
Second, it ordered the Gray Wolves mercenaries to defend the fourth breach.
But when the Gray Wolves below saw this command, they exchanged uneasy glances.
The platform had once been a secure location—but that was in the past. Now, half of it had collapsed. If the lizardfolk broke through the front lines, they could easily overrun Antietta’s position. Brandon had explicitly told them their primary duty was to ensure the young noblewoman’s safety. Yet now, she was ordering them to leave her exposed.
“Lady Antietta?” one mercenary called out hesitantly.
“Follow my orders,” she replied sharply.
“But—?”
Antietta gestured decisively. “I am in command now. Obey without question. Any consequences will be dealt with later.”
The mercenaries faltered.
Meanwhile, the young woman on the platform furrowed her brow. Looking up, she saw the lizardfolk beginning to emerge from the forest. Their formation was loose, indicating they were aware of the defenders’ numerical disadvantage. But that wasn’t the worst part. She had only fifteen men under her command, and none were particularly strong fighters.
Against iron-ranked foes, the best exchange rate an upper-tier fighter could hope for was four-to-one—or maybe five-to-one if they were lucky.
All she could do was buy time.
Unconsciously, Antietta clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on the flagpole.
---
Brandon was drenched in sweat.
He lost count of how many times Cinnabar and he had changed directions—it was too close. He could almost feel the tension radiating off her, her heart pounding wildly within her frail frame, her breathing growing labored. Signs of fatigue were setting in.
“That… charge you mentioned… how much longer until it’s ready?” Cinnabar panted.
“Give me twenty seconds…” Brandon muttered, calculating the timing in his head.
“No, we can’t last that long without… floating…” The red-haired girl shook her head immediately.
Brandon glanced over his shoulder.
He wished her words weren’t true, but deep down, he knew they were right. Sure enough, the Divine Messenger Ackerman continued its relentless pursuit, just as Brandon had anticipated. Though clumsy in turns, the creature’s straight-line speed was terrifying. Every distance gained during a maneuver was closed in mere strides.
Brandon understood he couldn’t keep forcing Cinnabar to zigzag forever. At this rate, they’d never lure the monster to the designated location before nightfall.
Floating might offer temporary relief, but they’d already noticed the beast was learning. It attacked the warhorse in midair with stone pillars, unobstructed by trees, as if aiming at a stationary target.
“We can’t float,” Brandon said firmly.
Cinnabar gritted her teeth.
Brandon looked back again, gauging the shrinking distance between Ackerman and themselves. Without hesitation, he hurled a disintegration crystal behind him. A series of explosions erupted, but the colossal beast merely shielded its head and charged forward through the smoke, unfazed.
Cinnabar, sensing the imminent threat from behind, reluctantly ordered the warhorse to ascend. But Ackerman thrust its hands downward, summoning stone spikes that shot up from the ground, aiming directly at them.
Though Cinnabar commanded the horse to dodge, prolonged strain had inevitably dulled her reflexes. A split-second delay allowed a spike to strike the horse’s hind leg. The steed stumbled, its rear half collapsing as it was flung sideways into a tree.
The impact threw both Brandon and Cinnabar from the saddle. When Brandon regained consciousness, he found himself sprawled on the ground, his body aching as if his mind had been struck by lightning. For a moment, he felt like he was back in Buchi Manor, reliving the night he’d been tossed aside by that skeleton—the same disorienting haze enveloping him.
But Brandon’s first concern wasn’t whether he’d suffered a concussion or worse. He knew something far deadlier was closing in.
Things had gone terribly wrong.
His fingers instinctively grasped the last disintegration crystal in his possession. Shaking his head, he tried to stand, only to be pushed back down by a firm hand on his chest.
“Listen carefully.”
It was Cinnabar’s voice. Brandon struggled to open his eyes, but his vision remained blurred. He could barely make out her face as she leaned over him.
“I’ll hold it off and buy you some time.”
“What are you planning?” Brandon mumbled groggily, his spine screaming in agony.
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a Divine Messenger too. That brainless brute can only wound me so much—”
“Wasn’t it me who explained the traits of Divine Messengers to you…? Ugh.” Brandon squinted, his vision still hazy. He coughed, struggling to sit up, feeling her supporting hand steady him.
“Hmph.”
The girl snorted softly in his ear before releasing him. “The horse is behind you. Don’t waste time.” With that, she grabbed her halberd and turned away. In her line of sight, the massive monster had already smashed through three trees and was charging straight for her.
Cinnabar leveled her halberd, biting down on her small fangs.
Brandon stared at her retreating figure, momentarily stunned. Then, forcing himself to move despite the pain, he crawled toward the warhorse’s reins. There was no time to argue. Cinnabar had made her choice, and his role was to support her fully.
In team dynamics, this was a fundamental rule.
Hesitation would only squander the opportunity.
Brandon mounted the horse and spurred it into a gallop. Glancing back, he saw Cinnabar get swatted aside by the Earth Divine Messenger Ackerman, her body flying into the forest like a stone, accompanied by a cascade of snapping branches.
Then silence.
Even a gold-rank warrior who had awakened elemental affinity stood no chance against such raw power.
After confirming that its opponent was incapacitated, Ackerman refocused its attention on the fleeing insect. No orders guided its actions; driven solely by the violent instincts instilled by the blood of gods, its primary objective was to eliminate anything that still moved.
Fearing it might pursue the red-haired girl further, Brandon hurled another disintegration crystal to redirect its wrath. Predictably, the creature’s focus snapped back to him instantly.
Yet the time Cinnabar had bought proved invaluable.
For in that moment, Brandon finally activated the cooldown-reduced Charge skill. After three sharp turns, he streaked through the forest like a stretched silver thread. Enhanced by the warhorse, his speed surpassed ten times one thousand units for the first time since arriving in this world.
A number perilously close to his peak agility stats from his previous life.
And had anyone been fortunate enough to witness this spectacle from above the forest canopy, they would have beheld a magnificent silver line slicing through the woods, cleaving the forest in half before vanishing into the endless horizon.
Project Update: Volume 2 is now fully translated! However, as I'm currently focusing on stacking chapters for Volume 3, the release of the remaining chapters in Volume 2 will slow down a bit.
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