"For Terra! For the Blood of Ael!" Dalton's roar shattered the tense silence of the knight order, unleashing the first explosive cry.
"For the Blood of Ael!" Philip and the rest of the Blood Angels echoed him. Their lances leveled like silver lightning, the charging warhorses surged forward. In an instant, the knights tore open a massive gap in the lines of the Kaedwen soldiers trying to block their path.
"Pfft! Pfft!"
Wet, muffled impacts followed one after another—flesh pierced, armor split. The Kaedwen infantry, bearing shields or the black unicorn emblem, had no time to react. Screams erupted across the line as soldiers were impaled cleanly through, or else flung aside by the unstoppable momentum of the armored warhorses. Chestplates caved in, bodies were thrown like ragdolls, blood spraying as they fell limp to the mud.
This dark red torrent, guided by Karl, cut past the Temeria troops who were locked in a desperate struggle and crashed directly into the Kaedwen flank. The sudden reinforcements—and the shock and slaughter they delivered—immediately drew the attention of all Temerian forces on the battlefield.
"Reinforcements! Reinforcements are here!"
"Look at their armor! Whose lord do they belong to?!"
"Ha! Perfect timing! Kill the Kaedwen bastards!"
The Temerian soldiers and knights, who moments before had been wavering, erupted with renewed morale. Cheers burst forth across the chaotic front line, which finally stabilized thanks to this fresh surge of strength.
Karl barely paid attention to the broader battle. His gaze fixed instantly on the struggling red-haired figure amid the chaos. He drove his heels sharply into his horse's flanks. Night Wind—his jet-black stallion—let out a piercing neigh, as if understanding completely. Then, like a streak of black lightning, the stallion shot toward Triss's position.
Kaedwen soldiers attempting to intercept him were swept aside without even lifting their pikes—Night Wind, wrapped in shimmering Bio-field energy, smashed through them effortlessly. Bodies and shields flew as Karl closed the distance within mere breaths.
Karl reined in violently as he reached Triss's shield wall. Night Wind reared, hooves thrashing in the air with a resonant cry. Karl dismounted in one fluid motion, his golden plate armor heavy yet offering no sign of clumsy movement.
"Triss!" he called, voice muffled by his helm but filled with steady reassurance.
Triss, struggling to fend off an ax-wielding soldier hacking at her shield, turned at the sound. The moment she saw the unmistakable golden armor and the black stallion, her eyes widened with disbelief—and overwhelming relief.
"Karl?! How—"
She didn't finish. Her expression shifted instantly to alarm.
Dalton thundered past behind Karl, his warhorse smashing aside another soldier. The shockwave of the charge made Triss stagger, nearly collapsing. Then Karl raised his hand toward her, palm open.
A gentle, invisible force enveloped her.
The suffocating anti-magic gold—its nauseating suppression of her magic, the crawling resistance clinging to her nerves—vanished. As if she had been drowning in filth and suddenly burst through into pure, clean air, her magic flowed freely again. The relief was so sharp she almost trembled.
"Mount Night Wind and leave immediately," Karl said, voice low and commanding. There was no room for argument.
Tears welled up in Triss's eyes at the rush of relief and the weight of the battlefield's terror. But she shook her head furiously.
"No! Karl, what about you?!"
"Night Wind can carry both of us! You're coming with me!"
She could not imagine fleeing alone and leaving him behind.
But as she spoke, her eyes suddenly caught movement behind Karl.
Far in the distance, the sorceress Sabrina had spotted the gleaming golden figure among the battlefield's chaos. A cruel smile curled across her painted lips. Raising her staff, she summoned a roaring, condensed fireball—larger and hotter than the last. Flames spiraled around it as she hurled it toward Karl's unprotected back.
"Watch out!!"
Triss's cry tore out of her throat, her heart nearly stopping.
The fireball howled toward them, its heat tangible even from afar—powerful enough to engulf and obliterate knight and warhorse alike.
Karl didn't even turn.
As if shooing away a bothersome insect, he casually flicked his hand backward.
Snap!! BOOM!
The blazing sphere struck his palm—and burst like an overstretched bubble. The violently compressed fire magic unraveled instantly, exploding into harmless, glittering sparks that scattered across the air like fiery snow.
Triss froze, mouth agape, voice gone. Her pale green eyes shook with shock so intense her thoughts blanked completely.
He… he stopped Sabrina's fireball. Barehanded.
How?
No armor in the world, not even enchanted plate, could withstand that spell without melting. Yet he didn't even flinch.
Before she could recover, Karl strode directly to her. In one swift motion, he grabbed the back of her collar and lifted her off the ground like she weighed nothing.
"Eh?! Karl—what are you doing?!" Triss yelped.
He ignored her, heaving her upward and tossing her onto Night Wind's back. She landed hard but steady, arms instinctively wrapping around the horse's neck.
"Go, Night Wind! Take her to the rear! Keep her safe!"
Karl slapped the stallion's flank firmly.
Night Wind neighed sharply—acknowledgment and farewell in one—and pivoted, hooves striking the ground with thunderous force. Triss twisted back, shouting Karl's name, reaching out toward him helplessly as the stallion accelerated away. But Night Wind did not slow. It carried her swiftly out of the immediate danger.
Karl watched her fade into the safer lines of the Temerian forces, only turning away once he was certain she was beyond the front's deadliest reach.
Then he faced forward.
Kaedwen soldiers swarmed around him, forming a loose ring. Their expressions were tense, unsure—fear creeping into their eyes after witnessing the impossible. In the distance, Sabrina stared back, her revealing robes fluttering, her staff half-lowered in stunned disbelief.
Karl's gaze slid briefly toward Fercart, still fighting desperately against a knot of enemy soldiers, his shield's glow flickering.
Finally, Karl reached over his shoulder and drew his greatsword. He held the massive weapon between two fingers, and with a careless twist of his wrist—
Buzz!
The blade spun effortlessly, whirling into a deadly bloom of steel that carved a humming arc through the air.
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