Necromancer Of The Black Bible (130)

Dawn was breaking.

Grovebern’s army marched forward in orderly formation.

When the sun appeared over the eastern ridge, the surroundings brightened in an instant.

Until a short while ago they had relied on torches to advance, but now even torches were unnecessary.

At that moment, Chief of Staff Konrad approached and spoke in a voice meant only for him.

“The weather is odd.”

“Why do you say that?”

In response to Grovebern’s question, Konrad pointed forward with his finger and answered.

“There’s a cloud lingering.”

As he said.

The clouds hovered around a single mountain.

Coincidentally, that was where the village of Silvandel lay.

“A coincidence?”

Grovebern’s question was met with a stern expression from Konrad.

“It’s strange to call it mere coincidence. The events from yesterday too.”

Grovebern nodded.

It was certainly odd.

The annihilation of the inspection unit just yesterday was strange, and the current situation was also troubling.

There was only one thing he knew that could explain such occurrences.

“Could a black mage be involved?”

Konrad’s gaze grew cold at Grovebern’s question.

“We can’t rule it out. Such coincidences don’t stack so easily.”

Grovebern nodded.

A black mage who works against the order of the world.

If such a being stood behind Silvandel, this battle might not be so easy.

Having thought this far, Grovebern glanced at the five thousand troops marching with him, then asked Konrad.

“With this number of troops, is there no chance of victory?”

This force was the largest regular army Grovebern’s marquisate could muster.

Of course, a levy could call up peasants, but their combat effectiveness would be far lower than that of trained regulars.

Maybe in a large-scale field battle it would matter, but against a small number of foes like now, such numbers wouldn’t help much.

Konrad, already well aware of this, thought calmly before speaking.

“It depends on the black mage’s skill. The weak ones can only summon lower demons, but a high-ranking black mage can summon monsters of Demon King-level.”

“Demon King-level…”

Grovebern recalled the report he’d been given the previous evening.

A phantom swordsman who could kill Walter and some ten soldiers with a single strike.

It was certainly astonishing, but its scale seemed small for something Demon King-level.

“From yesterday’s report alone, I don’t think we can say it’s that.”

“I think the same. It’s unlikely to be that extreme. My guess is a high-level demon.”

“A high-level demon, then…”

“Our forces alone could defeat it.”

A glint of light shone in Konrad’s eyes.

Chief of Staff Konrad was a mage.

A 5th-circle Fire mage from the Empire’s Grand Mage Tower.

Though labeled 5th-circle, he could in fact use 6th-circle spells with ease.

He presented himself externally as a 5th-circle mage to hide his true power.

Revealing his full skill would only make him a target, so he downplayed himself.

Grovebern admired that quality and appointed him Chief of Staff from the start.

Konrad’s subsequent exploits were tremendous.

His insight into the situation was exceptional, and his predictions were right more often than not.

Therefore Grovebern did not dismiss Konrad’s confident words lightly.

Grovebern’s army marched steadily and had reached the fir forest’s edge.

No more sunlight reached them; instead, deep forest shadows fell.

Worrying for the soldiers’ morale, Konrad began a spell.

A moment later.

Brilliant sunlight began to pour from the standard carried by the lead rider.

The soldiers who saw it let out exclamations of admiration.

“Ooh-”

“It’s light!”

“The light is dispelling the shadow cast over us!”

“Is this, then, Konrad’s blessing beginning?”

“Somehow I feel energized. I really do!”

As the hesitant soldiers’ morale rose, Grovebern shouted boldly.

“The Blessing of Flame has descended upon us. Pick up the pace. Strike down the enemy in one blow!”

“Waaah!!!”

The soldiers began to march with wider strides.

They had been marching for hours without rest, yet showed no sign of fatigue.

This was thanks to the ‘Blessing of Flame’ Konrad had just used.

The Blessing of Flame is an advanced spell that raises morale and bolsters endurance.

It was a spell most high-ranking mages from the Empire’s Grand Mage Tower knew well.

Konrad maintained the spell as he led the army, and soon a cry rose from the vanguard.

“Enemy!”

At the same time, trumpets blared and the marching soldiers moved in perfect unison into battle formation.

Grovebern stepped forward to the center of the formation with Konrad to assess the situation.

As the vanguard had reported, there was an enemy ahead.

Something mounted on a skeletal steed.

The figure draped in a sackcloth cloak was not clearly visible.

Only the sword at its waist stood out.

Seeing it, only the words ‘phantom knight’ came to mind.

“The survivors’ accounts were true. A phantom knight…”

Just then, a commander approached.

An armed man of massive build, his broad cheekbones and square jaw lending him a solid appearance.

Armored in plate and mounted on an armored steed, he rode up to Grovebern with a ponderous sound.

Then, in a gruff metallic voice, he spoke.

“Walter was like a son to me. Give me the chance to avenge him.”

He was Gerhardt of the Iron Wall.

True to his title, his massive shield was extraordinary.

Forged of the famously tough black iron, the shield’s center had three vertical rows of red mithril pins embedded, allowing it to withstand tremendous impacts.

Thanks to this, those who succeeded in charging it sometimes ended up being thrown off instead.

The weapon he bore in his right hand was no ordinary armament either.

He wielded a three-pronged spear, unlike a trident; the central blade was long, broad, and sharp, while the side prongs were short and flared outward.

This spear was specialized for disabling infantry from horseback; in the field Gerhardt would whirl it from his mount and cut down dozens.

He was a deadly commander, truly a human weapon.

Grovebern glanced at Konrad, and Konrad cast a spell over Gerhardt’s weapon.

Whoosh-

The red flames immediately shifted to blue, flickering along the shield and spear tips.

Grovebern spoke to Gerhardt.

“Go and avenge him.”

“Thank you, My Lord!”

Gerhardt bowed deeply and rode forward.

Thud, thud, thud-

With each heavy hoofbeat, the ground trembled slightly.

The soldiers cheered for Gerhardt’s impending victory.

And with good reason—the phantom knight before Gerhardt did not appear particularly large.

It was merely mounted on a hideous skeletal horse, and facing Gerhardt it even seemed frail.

Gerhardt maneuvered his mount and observed the opponent for a moment.

There was no response from the foe.

There was no palpable momentum either.

Only a hollow void could be seen beneath the sackcloth covering its head.

Having confirmed this, Gerhardt guided his horse in a wide circle and then accelerated into a charge.

No battle cry was necessary.

On the battlefield, action mattered—actions that could kill the enemy were the only ones of consequence.

Clop clop clop clop—

As Gerhardt’s mount gained speed, deep hoofprints were carved into the ground.

Gritting his teeth, Gerhardt poured his energy into the spear as he rode.

He closed in right before the phantom knight.

‘What is—?’

A sensation he had never felt before washed over him.

Too cold to be called murderous intent.

Too sharp to be merely wind.

Yet instinct recognized it and sent a warning through his mind, and Gerhardt hurriedly raised his shield.

At that moment.

Clang-

A tremendous metallic sound that shook the entire forest.

Gerhardt, taking the full impact, was thrown from his saddle.

“Grahk-!”

Gerhardt was flung through the air, discarded his spear, and landed holding his shield tightly.

A shield fall technique.

It was his own skill for surviving from oblique angles.

Having landed safely, he gripped his shield and stared forward.

The skeletal mount began to move. The phantom knight was charging like the wind.

Gerhardt instinctively raised his shield—and at the same time a second impact swept across his body.

“Kuhhk!”

For Gerhardt, it was a terrible shock.

His insides felt as if they had been turned to mush; dark red blood flowed from his mouth, and his hands trembled on the shield.

Despite wearing spiked boots, he was driven back a long way.

That distance seemed longer than ten of his strides.

“Damn it!”

Gerhardt raised his shield slightly to check his opponent.

The phantom knight had no face, so there was no way to read its thoughts or expression.

The horse’s movements were so light and fast that they seemed almost buoyant.

‘At this rate, I’ll lose.’

Gerhardt sensed his death.

After taking only two blows, he felt a deep despair.

A wall he could never surmount.

He had no idea what he would have to do to overcome it.

‘Was it foolish to step forward?’

The thought crossed his mind, but Gerhardt shook his head to dispel it.

To avenge Walter was an honorable duty.

It was something that should be done, and he would not feel wronged even if he died for it.

‘There is no greater honor than dying in battle as a knight.’

Gerhardt glanced back briefly.

He saw the look of worry in Viscount Grovebern’s eyes.

He shook his head in Grovebern’s direction.

A signal telling him not to intervene in this duel.

Then Gerhardt turned his gaze back to the phantom knight before him.

Judging from the sackcloth’s orientation, its head was turned precisely toward him.

Then an alien voice sounded in his head.

-This is the end now. Do you have any last words?

It felt like the question a victorious knight would ask at the end of a duel.

Gerhardt snorted and muttered to himself.

“Some ghost rag pretending to be a knight.”

He channeled all his energy into his arms and gripped the shield tightly. A red aura cloaked the shield, and Gerhardt shouted.

“Come! I’ll crush you!”

After speaking, Gerhardt poured all his energy into the shield.

The red aura thickly enveloped the shield, flickering as if it were ablaze.

The phantom knight began to advance lightly as before.

This time, it passed by Gerhardt’s side.

Swoosh-