Chapter 221: 221 CHAPTER 220 "Be prepared to hold it in your hand"

A glint of purple light draws a line on the battlefield. The line snaps the neck of an enemy soldier with a sickening sound, causing his eyes to go blank.

At the same time, the sound of his right arm creaking sounded. Perhaps it was because of the forced movement, but I felt a few strands of muscle break off.

But still, without pausing for breath, he raised his blade to return the blow. No matter how many times he swung his blade, there was no trouble in finding an enemy to cut down. The enemy soldiers rushed toward him, shouting savagely, as if they were dealing with an onrushing wave.

Please don't do this to me. It's too lavish a reception for me.

I let out a breath for a moment and run the purple again. The iron helmet that had been hit by the blade cracks from the top, roars, and splits.

His body was doing strangely well. The arm that swung the sword drew a trajectory so delicate and powerful that it did not seem to belong to him. Every time he swung his arm, a flash that he would not have been able to wield in the past was etched in front of him.

What does this mean? Elation struck my heart powerfully. I can't help but wonder if what I'm seeing is really what I'm capable of.

What can I say? It was as if my finger was on something that I had never been able to do before, no matter how hard I tried. There was such a feeling for sure. My heart was beating strongly again.

But the enemy lines were still far away.

I tightened the reins of my horse and looked ahead. There was still no sign of the enemy's main camp, only a swarm of enemies. The enemy soldiers are holding their spears while overlapping each other, probably looking for an opening to charge.

A gap after a vigorous swing of the sword, a slight pause when the horse stops its hoof after repeated charges. It will always come to any human being. The enemy soldiers are holding their shields and spears, watching you, hoping to gouge your flesh with their spears.

It's not a good situation.

No matter how well you're doing, if you keep moving, you're bound to run out of breath, and your insides are going to ache as if they're being constricted. Running on the battlefield, even on horseback, wears out your physical and mental strength. It's impossible to keep charging until the enemy soldiers can't take it anymore.

That is, unless you are a person like Caria, whose entire body is made of liver. That is undeniably exceptional.

That's why you shouldn't have a small unit that can be assisted by others.

"You're not falling, are you, Fialaat?

I said, looking at the black hair swaying at the edge of my vision. A smiling voice came from behind me. Apparently, he's okay. A breath leaks out.

"Of course. What, did you think I was such a pain in the ass?

The words were frustrated, but the voice was not. It was Fialaert's way of making a joke. That was my cue.

Fialaert's hand reached out to hug my shoulder. His fingertips were unmistakably tinged with magic. A condensed mass of magical power sat in Fialaert's hand without a wave. There was a moment of silence before it swelled up.

There was a moment of silence before it swelled. The feet that should have been rushing toward me stomped. Did the girl's slender fingertips look like a threat?

Fialat's quiet voice shook the battlefield.

The canopy has fallen.

His fingertips waved with the words.

Instantly. The world twisted. An unbelievable storm rushed across the battlefield as if it had suddenly appeared there. A storm that bounces off trees, swallows people, and knocks birds to the ground. There was a definite rampage of nature.

But strangely enough, the storm showed no signs of stopping at the allies, and only swallowed the enemy soldiers as they were. People who were heavily armed were flung away like paper and thrown into the air. If they fall, they will be killed, and if they hit the enemy soldiers well, they will be lucky.

It's a threat that hasn't changed since I last saw it, and it's just battlefield magic. I don't really understand how it works. I seem to remember hearing a while back that it bends the boundaries of the world and connects it to some other place.

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To be honest, I thought this was ridiculous, but when you see it up close, you can't help but believe it.

In all likelihood, it was different from the magic that was originally meant to help you a little.

I'm not sure what to make of it.

I'm not sure what to make of it," he said, smiling at the sight. The fact that I'm trying so hard with my sword to lose a few heads seems pointless when I see this magic.

I wonder if he heard me. Leaning against my back, Fialat said.

You can't, you can't. You don't have the magic or the strength to do that. I can't, I can't. I can't do that.

"Well, you can rest as long as you like.

Fialaert's weight falls more deeply onto my back. Fialaert's thin arms wrapped around my abdomen. His voice sounded very out of breath.

First during the assault, and now. It seems I've wasted a lot of energy in the two attacks. It can't be helped, magic on a battlefield scale is beyond the realm of magic. Even in the past, I don't remember hearing of anyone other than Fialaert being able to perform this kind of magic.

Given our physical limitations, we can only rely on Fear Alert a few more times. I can't let you do this for nothing.

So, I'll just keep moving forward while the princess is resting.

In the face of Fialaert's magic, the enemy's heavily armed infantry is on the verge of panic. Even if only a few troops were damaged, the sight of their comrades being thrown helplessly into the air and then slammed hard to the ground must have been a sight to behold.

I took a deep breath. He held his sword up to the sky and let the sunlight shine on it.

The enemy has crumbled. The time is now, right here, right now. Don't forget the battle cry - charge!

A loud voice shakes the battlefield. The soldiers of my unit responded with a savage shout and jumped on the enemy soldiers in an avalanche.

I am not very good at this. Words that lead men, words that drive men to their deaths.

And yet... If this is necessary, if this is who I have to wield the sword for, I will take the hilt myself. Not to lay blame on anyone, not to ridicule myself for not being qualified to hold the hilt.

After all, it's the way you stand that I've always been most passionate about.

While leading his troops, he cut deep into the Philos Urban Corps. They were no more than wooden figures with shields and spears. Their will to fight must have been greatly discouraged in the face of Fyarat's magic. Only a few of them would dare to come at us with the will to fight.

And once a man's will is broken, there is no way that he can conveniently recover on the same battlefield. One more chance, and all of Philos' city soldiers will flee.

Shake your eyes and look around. Where are they? Where's the captain? He struggles to move his vision through the chaos of the battlefield. Now the enemy soldiers are in disarray. But a few of our men were killed in the assault. It could be said that the damage was minor, but he was leading a small unit, and he would not be able to hold out if he continued to charge in the same way.

The eyes that had been moving again and again opened up when they saw a certain point.

--there it is. The helmet with the bird's tail feathers.

Around the helmeted one, the soldiers are better organized than the others. It's proof that the commander's voice is reaching him.

As soon as he recognizes you, he gallops his horse. The horse carrying Fialaert and me is not exactly agile. Still, it was enough to approach the captain who had stopped his horse to gather his confused troops.

He leaned forward from his horse as if jumping into the field. A gleam of purple light flashed through the air.

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