Chapter 214 (4/21): Ominous Night

Sphere after sphere of dark magic came flying at the walls of Moltrost, smashing into the barriers in an endless stream. For anyone that lived through that time, or had to help maintain those barriers, the stream really did seem endless.

There was no one with mana to spare by the end of the bombardment—the bombardment finally ended after an entire morning and afternoon. Later in the bombardment, the templars and priests were forced to pace themselves and cast in shifts to prevent all of them from running out of mana at once.

Finally, the last volley streaked across the sky and was scattered harmlessly by the erected barrier. Silent fell over the battlefield at long last as the defenders waited for the next wave. They wasted precious mana to maintain that shield, only to be faced with silence and inaction.

Just as Barsig was about to command his men to drop their shields, another dozen of dark magic came flying toward them from the undead army, and he forced his words back into his throat. He could scarcely imagine the consequences if he had been just a little faster and successfully gave the command.

But the undead— “No way, are they…?”

Ravonn nodded. “It’s probably clear by now, but undead are actually quite intelligent, especially when it comes to lord-class undeads that have much greater minds than we mere mortals can hope to obtain.”

“…do I take that as heresy?”

“Take it as you will. I am simply offering the truth,” the old archpriest replied, shrugging his shoulders. “It is undeniable that if you put a human and a lord-class undead and told them to study equivalent magic, the undead will master the spell faster ten times out of ten. If you ask them to memorize a book, they’ll have finished the task before you got past ten pages. When it comes to calculations, they’ll arrive at the correct answer immediately as long as they understand the mechanisms behind the calculation. When you come up with one possibility, they’ve already thought of discarded ten in search of something better. There is simply no way to compare.”

“You really don’t hold back when it comes to inducing despair, do you?”

“Well, apologies for shifting the subject. However, it will do you well to not underestimate a lord-class undead and all those that it leads,” Ravonn said. “It’s exactly as you think. The lord-class on the other side has finally gotten tired of trying to break through with brute force. Now, they’re going to starve us out.”

A chill ran down Barsig’s spine.

It’s not as if he didn’t know that this damned city was going to be his grave as soon as the undead army appeared over the horizon, but it had never seemed real. But with Ravonn’s merciless and frank words, death seemed all too close, all too sudden.

Despite the fact that there were no attacks, Barsig did not give the order for the templars to lower their guards. On top of that, none of the templars were stupid enough to not understand why they were defending against thin air, because in the next instant, another volley of magical bombardment smashed against their barrier.

So this was how their defense will fall; they’ll be drained of their mana while the enemy rests in peace. When they are finally exhausted, the enemy will simply waltz in and reap their heads. It wasn’t the most appealing kind of death, if any kind of death could be called appealing.

At random intervals, the undead army sent attacks against them, but the templars’ barrier held. Thankfully, there was still a way to partially counter the lord-class undead’s tactic, which was limiting the barrier’s output to a minimum while keeping alert of the sky for magic.

That improvement alone brought them enough time to last through the evening and maybe even midnight, but the changes in environment soon dashed Barsig’s hopes. The sky became dark and purple, making the black missiles that the undead army favored invisible. It was coming.

Sure enough, as soon as the sky became a deep blue that was close to black, the powerful bombardment began.

“Barriers up, full force!” Barsig ordered. The grounds shook from the forces raining down on the barriers, sending shockwaves rippling through the energy. “Shit, why is it so much stronger this time?”

Ravonn laughed. “Well, they have been saving up mana for the whole afternoon.”

“Stop laughing! How can you be laughing at a time like this?”

“If I don’t laugh now, then when should I? Should I join the Gods with a tearful face?” Ravonn replied. “Anyways, there’s no time to talk. Concentrate the barriers!”

“What?” Barsig asked, but Ravonn did not answer. The archpriest closed his eyes, raised his hands and gathered mana for a spell. By the time the spell was already formed, Barsig detected, too late, the powerful mana being concentrated in the far distance. It was well hidden but immense, much more powerful than anything he had ever seen outside of especially powerful mana beasts.

Before he can give a command or even shout out a warning, the lord-class skull lich in the enemy camps unleashed its magic. The sky seemed to darken as what seemed like black lightning blasted through the air in a single stroke, accompanied by a deafening thunderclap. The lightning crashed against the barriers the templars and priests had erected like before.

Unlike before, the priests had strengthened the barrier, shifting mana channeled into the barrier and concentrated it for a stronger area at the cost of other places. Ravonn took control of it and layered his own spells on top, weaving in magic to reinforce the barrier until it became many times tougher and with redundancies built into the shield.

With the black lightning stroke crashing into the barrier, it split off into different pillars of mana, but the barrier held. The main column of power crashed into the hardest part of the barrier, courtesy of Ravonn’s control, and for an eternal second, the two forces pushed against each other. Time seemed to freeze for the defenders as they watched the clash, unwilling to see time move again for fear that it would spell their doom.

When eternity was over, the winner of the clash became clear as the lightning fizzed out, all of its power expended.

Ravonn staggered, his face pale white, and Barsig quickly caught him before the old man could collapse. The old man coughed a few times and shook his head. “That was closer than I liked,” he said, pulling himself back to his feet using Barsig as support. “I wish I was fifty years younger!”

Barsig chose to not reply. Anyone would want to be younger, except those that are already young.

However, the mirth quickly disappeared with Barsig thought back to the terrifying power behind that black lightning. Forget the barrier produced by Bulwark—even a small, concentrated Bulwark accompanied with a sturdy shield may not be able to stand against such power. That they managed to survive was nothing short of a miracle, and the person that made that miracle happen was none other than Ravonn.

With such a miracle, perhaps they had hope. Even if they won’t live past tomorrow, perhaps they’ll see the sun again.

Barsig closed his fingers into a fist, raising it up his face in determination. He set his lips. “No, we will see it. Ravonn, how long do you think that lord-class takes to charge up one of those bolts?”

The old archpriest looked a bit better after taking a moment to rest. Color returned to his face. “Oh, not that long. About a minute or so to prepare. Even if those accursed things are powerful, that power can not be freely used.”

“...Just one minute?” Barsig asked.

“A minute is a long time, you know? It just seems short because we’re holed up in here, but in the battlefield, a minute is an eternity, hehehe.” Ravonn giggled and looked at Barsig out of the corner of his eyes. A pitying smile rose to his lips. “Sometimes, ignorance is a blessing. You didn’t take part in creating the barrier, so you have no idea what the power behind that spell is like. Would you like to know?”

Since ignorance was a blessing, then the obvious answer was no. But as the commander of the templar’s side of the combined forces, he had to know. He nodded and the smile on Ravonn’s face grew.

“Truly unfortunate. Very well, I’ll tell you.” He leaned in close to Barsig’s ear and uttered it from deep in his throat, his voice rasping like the hinges of a rusty door. “Enough to blast open a hole half as wide as this wall is tall, and then go through the walls on the other side of his city. Does that tell you anything?”

It did. In fact, Barsig wished he never heard it, especially since death magic had always been surprisingly soft and indirect compared to the straightforward nature of holy magic. Such destructive power from such soft magic was a testament to the lich’s skill.

At the same time, being able to block something that powerful proved Ravonn’s worth many times over, even if it was only with the combined power of dozens of other people.

“So how long can your barrier last? And how did you detect that magic before it came?”

As Ravonn was about to answer, a powerful burst of holy magic radiated from the center of the city, even if it paled in comparison to the power that Barsig had just experienced.

“What’s going on?!” Barsig demanded. He took a step toward the direction the magic came from, managing to stop himself just in time. A commander could not abandon his station. He forced himself to calm down and picked out one of the templars that had been resting. “Go to the cathedral and find out what’s happening.”

The templar saluted and ran out without any questions. Ravonn nodded in approval. “You’ve gotten better at controlling yourself.”

“... Thank you. So about the barrier…”

On the battlefield, distraction was lethal. His only duty was to hold his section of the walls for as long as he could. Nothing else mattered, and he tried to not think about that burst of magic from the cathedral.

...he failed. He could not stop thinking about what was going on back there that could cause such an eruption of holy magic. An undead couldn’t have infiltrated…

“Are you bothered?” Ravonn asked, squinting at him. When Barsig shook his head, he added, “You don’t have to lie.”

After hesitating for a brief second, Barsig nodded, and Ravonn laughed. “Being young is good. Curious too. If you want to go back, you can leave this place to me.”

“No. This is my duty.”

“Well, if you insist.” Ravonn didn’t push the issue and Barsig regretted his choice immediately.

Another burst of holy magic came from the cathedral, followed by two more in close succession. Barsig looked over, full of worry as he recognized the large-scale attack magic that those proud archpriests favored.

However, he stood fast, directing the defense of the city, even when dark magics fell from the sky as numerous as rain.