Chapter 434 - 433: The End of the Aristocratic War

Under the night sky, a silent team was approaching the Cecil Clan’s camp under the cover of darkness.

Clad in light leather armor ideal for mobility, all their equipment was painted black. They moved nimbly, traversing the gravelly and uneven wilderness as if it were flat ground.

It was a starless, pitch-black night, yet their actions were completely unaffected by the darkness.

This was a unit formed by Transcendents, a precious elite force of the rocky ridges Fortress.

The aristocrats who value propriety often disdain stealth operations when engaging in warfare. They prefer to agree on a time and place for battle, lay out formations and engage in honorable combat—this is their notion of the rules of war. However, once those noble rules of warfare are broken, experienced veterans know exactly what to do— the so-called aristocratic virtues on the battlefield are merely a facade for covering up the plunder of profits. Once the facade is torn away, everyone does what needs to be done.

A wavering shadow swept across the grass-covered ground and condensed beside a giant stone, while other Transcendents clad in nocturnal camouflage arrived beside this figure within moments. The stealth users’ team captain, emerging from the shadow, lowered his voice and quietly instructed his team: "We’re almost there. Stay alert; prioritize disabling those magical devices on the wagons."

The Transcendents executing the raid mission discreetly touched the small pouches on their bodies—in those pouches were Magic Scrolls, whose explosions were powerful enough to destroy the Cecil Clan’s magical devices. These scrolls were a highly valuable strategic resource of the rocky ridges Fortress, each one crafted with a wealth of effort by experienced Mages. Their mission was to ensure these precious scrolls were used where they mattered most.

After a brief respite, the raiders set out again. The strongest forces of shadow in the night came from all directions, hiding each of their figures deep within the darkness. Soon, they were invisible on the vast expanse of wilderness, leaving only swift shadows darting through the grass.

From a considerable distance, a faint red light flickered across a dense patch of grass.

A Steel Cavalry soldier, clad in light, close-fitting armor, retracted his gaze from the distance. The red glow from the tactical scope flickered on his helmet. He spoke softly to the squad commander beside him: "Captain, we’ve spotted another team. This one’s ours, right?"

The tactical scope with "Detection" effects could detect most stealth users, even on this starless, deep night. Those raiders, relying on their Transcendent abilities to storm across the open plain, were visible.

"This team’s ours, but don’t act rashly—the fools are about to enter the minefield," the Steel Cavalry squad leader whispered, "The brothers put in half a day’s work setting those landmines, at least let them blow a couple up."

"Alright then."

"Get the explosive shots ready, we’ll fire when the enemy panics."

The Steel Cavalry warriors began to move in the dark, while up ahead, the raiders from the rocky ridges Fortress continued swiftly toward their target.

Swift shadows weaved among rocks and weeds, like the omnipresent night wind, unrestrained and graceful. The stealth users’ captain relished this feeling of reckless freedom in the darkness, especially on a night like this, perfect for killing.

The dense darkness served as his armor, and the silent blade was perfect for slicing the throats of lambs ready for slaughter. He enjoyed having control over life and death in the dark, even though it was often dangerous; the thrill accompanied by danger was intoxicating.

It’s said that the Cecil Clan’s Skyfire Explosion was incredibly terrifying, forcing an Allied Army of more than forty southern aristocratic families to flee in panic. But it was precisely such tasks that could bring enough sense of achievement: Even the most powerful magic supplies have their vulnerabilities, and stealth users excel at stabbing those weaknesses.

A cool night breeze blew in, dispersing some fog over the wilderness. Seizing the darkness as a cover, the stealth users’ captain and his team light-footedly stepped onto a gravel-strewn ground. At the moment his foot touched down, a strange "click" sound suddenly reached his ears.

A stealth user stopped in confusion, feeling something off underneath: "I think I stepped on something..."

As he spoke, he lifted his foot to see what exactly he was standing on.

And then he realized he had stepped on a blazing light that burst forth swiftly.

A roar shattered the night’s silence. The stealth user who stepped on the landmine was blown skyward in multiple pieces. In that instant the explosion occurred, the quickest reacting stealth users’ minds flashed with the same word: Trap!

The most powerful ability of the stealth users’ profession—speed—was completely triggered in that moment. As their companions soared skyward, the rest of the team members scattered in all directions. Yet no matter how fast they were, they couldn’t outrun the shrapnel and rocks scattering from the explosion. A chorus of screams echoed immediately, with half the team caught in the blast.

The stealth users’ captain, ultimately stronger in prowess, relied on his years of honed survival instincts to be the first to escape the blast range. Yet the explosive sound and flash still left him dizzy. In this deathly moment of brief dizziness, he suddenly spotted, out of the corner of his eye, several figures emerging in the distant grass.

Years of ingrained combat instincts helped this middle-ranked stealth user forcibly resist the head-spinning confusion. The instant he drew his dagger from his side, his figure began to blur.

Stealth users should never expose themselves fully to enemies in any situation. Only by hiding one’s figure can one remain invincible in combat—these words spoken by his mentor when he first became a Transcendent flashed in his mind, while his sharp eyes locked onto the figures of those ambushers appearing from the grass, waiting to see who had the foolish courage to charge first.

He was confident in his melee combat skills.

Yet the first thing that reached him wasn’t an attacker, but an immensely powerful ex-pl-o-ding shot!!

Accompanied by a series of light machinery clashes, sharp explosions came from a distance, and one after another, strange objects wrapped in pale blue magical orbs flew out from the strange weapons carried on the shoulders of those "grass lurkers." After tracing swift and brief paths in the air, they landed one by one at the feet of the stealth users, followed by a series of earth-shattering explosions.

In this world, there exist many unique classes of Transcendents, serving as "elite warriors" for various forces, each with their distinct fighting style.

Rangers excel at jungle warfare, Wanderer Troops possess formidable magical power, royal shadow guards leap from shadow to unleash a Whirlwind Slash, while the Steel Cavalry from the Cecil Clan...

They crouch in the bushes, ready to jump out and hit you with a face full of R! P! G!

And then they run after the strike.

The profound darkness of the starless wilderness was shattered by the tumultuous explosions near the Cecil Camp, breaking the originally serene night. In the center of the Cecil Camp, Sir Philip quietly listened to the distant explosions.

As expected, the aristocrats from the rocky ridges Fortress launched a surprise attack under the cover of night.

The noble might be slow but not foolish. After being pursued by the Cecil Clan for nearly half a month in the southern borders, they at least learned some valuable lessons—they realized that the Demon Crystal Railgun has tremendous power but requires deployment to fire. To counter the Cecil Clan’s magic weapons, the only strategy was to disrupt them before they enter firing position. Facing such artillery, any adherence to traditional aristocratic warfare rules would be akin to suicide.

The young Sir Philip sighed softly.

Classical aristocratic warfare is ultimately a thing of the past. The speed at which these nobles learn to fight—or abandon "fairness"—has surpassed his expectations. As their leader predicted, the romantic yet inefficient aristocratic warfare is doomed to extinction. With the arrival of a new era, warfare inevitably reverts to its most primitive and pure state.

A low buzzing sound suddenly broke Sir Philip’s contemplation. He looked up and saw the ancient magical device placed in the center of the tent, occupying nearly half of the large table, buzzing and flashing. He promptly stepped forward and somewhat clumsily maneuvered the Rune Trigger on the device’s base.

The apparatus was activated, projecting the scruffy large face of Sir Byron in mid-air, accompanied by his loud voice, slightly distorted by noise: "Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Damn... Is this how you use this thing?"

"I can hear you, I can hear you—stop yelling, there’s no need to be so loud!" Sir Philip briefly lost focus but quickly responded—even though he had tried using it a few times, this new communication device continued to astonish him each time.

Testing the new communication device on the battlefield to validate its worth in combat was also part of Sir Philip’s mission. Therefore, the convoy attacking the rocky ridges Fortress specifically brought along a team of Mage Technicians and a multitude of Magic Web Units and Magic Obelisk components, aiming to extend the magical power field as far as the army reached.

Because Count Hosman died early and the southern aristocrats’ efficiency in establishing the Magic Web was low, the coverage in the northern parts of the mountain range wasn’t seamless. In the disparate wilderness and villages, the technicians needed to continually establish relay stations to ensure signal transmission for the Magic Web Communicator. Fortunately, both the Hive Demon King Unit and the miniaturized Obelisk were modular, making installation throughout the journey relatively easy.

In the holographic projection above the communicator, Sir Byron’s face showed astonishment, still speaking loudly: "This thing is truly amazing... Unbelievable that we can talk so effortlessly from such a distance... Before this, I’d only seen Mages perform the communication spell twice in my lifetime."

"You can lower your voice—the communicator transmits signals via the Magic Web, not by your loud voice."

"Ah, I just can’t help it," Sir Byron chuckled dryly, then showed a listening posture, "Seems like it’s pretty lively on your end..."

Sir Philip’s expression was somewhat conflicted: "Just as you predicted, they came to raid."

"Ha—those nobles finally learned how to fight," Sir Byron clapped his hands and laughed heartily, "too bad they’re still a bit green, only able to think of ideas like a midnight raid..."

Seeing his old partner become increasingly unserious, Sir Philip couldn’t help but frown: "Did you just occupy the channel to chat with me?"

The term "channel" was invented by their leader.

"Chat? Oh, I did come to discuss business," Sir Byron seemed to suddenly recall his purpose and quickly returned to the main topic, "We have already set sail—two battleships equipped with the latest ’Calibrator’ Rainbow Cannon, making all speed towards your location!"

"Calibrator?" Sir Philip curiously echoed the unfamiliar term. From the structure and expression of the word, he discerned a hint of the Gondor Empire’s style.

"It’s a name given by Master Kamel after the Rainbow Cannon was finalized, meaning it can be used to ’calibrate’ the enemy’s mindset," Sir Byron laughed, full of spirit, "Now it’s up to your progress—these two ships with the Rainbow Cannon have limited self-defense capabilities; you must clear the ground for me."

Watching the projection of his old partner laughing like a child, Sir Philip’s earlier regret and lament over the end of aristocratic warfare dissipated before he realized it, and he laughed as well, his voice booming with strength: "You should worry about yourself—better hurry up, or I might blast open the rocky ridges Fortress’s walls before you get here!"

"Ha, you underestimate Miss Tiel’s abilities—"

(Happy New Year, everyone~~~~ I really wish I could take a vacation too...)

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