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The Necromancer's Servant

Under the sky of history, whether you love or not, you are merely a speck of dust. No matter who you are, what you can grasp is only yourself.

Firebird57 · Fantasie
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181 Chs

Chapter 14: Suppressing the Bandits (Part 1)

At the gates of the mansion, a female knight clad in silver armor, a sword at her waist, and a long lance resting on her mount, sat atop a tall, pure-white steed. Looking down at the two gatekeepers, she asked coldly, "Is this the residence of Esis?"

The two gatekeepers, elderly men in their fifties, glanced at the holy cross insignia engraved on the knight's armor. Trembling, they quickly lowered their heads and answered, "Yes."

The knight's sharp gaze swept over the two old men before she nodded slightly and rode her horse straight into the mansion grounds.

"Milady, you..." The two men hesitated. They recalled the master's strict instructions forbidding outsiders from entering and that additional guards had been arranged for the perimeter today. However, they dared not block her way. The holy cross on her armor indicated her status as at least a bishop-level figure, and the natural authority exuded in her every movement compelled respect and fear.

"If you don't want to die, you'd best head home immediately," the knight said without looking back, leaving those words behind as she continued forward.

The guards in the garden gathered quickly but hesitated, unsure of whether to confront the fully armored temple knight. In Alrasia, while officials might need proper documents to enter private estates, a temple knight had no such restrictions. Not only could they enter at will, but they could also kill without consequence. Most of the guards were temporary hires, and the smarter ones, sensing trouble, began slipping away. A few turned and fled as soon as they caught sight of the knight from afar.

The temple knight ignored them all, spurring her horse toward the main doors. Finding the doors tightly shut, she drew her sword and slashed through the iron bar securing them, splitting it cleanly in two. With a sharp tug on the reins, her white horse reared with a loud whinny, its front hooves kicking the doors wide open.

The commotion drew the attention of the butler, who hurriedly appeared. Upon seeing the knight riding into the hall, his face turned pale, and his entire body trembled.

The knight's sharp, blade-like gaze locked onto the butler. He forced a nervous smile and bowed deeply. "Milady, to what do we owe the honor of your visit? Is there something I can assist you with?"

"Where is Esis?" the knight demanded coldly.

"So, you are here to see my master. Please wait here; I'll inform him right away, and he'll come to meet you shortly." The butler turned and began walking briskly away.

"Stop," the knight ordered, her tone icy.

But the butler didn't stop—instead, he broke into a run, sprinting quickly around a corner.

A flash of white light streaked through the air. The butler's headless corpse continued running for several more steps, even turning half a corner, before collapsing to the ground with a spray of blood. The knight's lance, now reduced to a short handle, was embedded in the wall at the corner. Bits of the butler's shattered skull and blood splattered the walls and floor.

The other servants, witnessing this gruesome scene, screamed in terror and fled toward the exits. The knight glanced indifferently at the fleeing crowd. It was clear these common servants had no idea what was happening. She retrieved her lance from the wall and strode deeper into the mansion.

The commotion on the surface failed to reach the depths below.

In the largest room of the basement, Hilika and Esis stood with seven elite fighters before a gathering of over a hundred bandits.

"Do you want money? Bright, shiny gold coins?" Hilika's roar echoed through the basement. Every note vibrated with primal desire and ferocity, more akin to a beast's howl than a human voice. "Answer me!"

"Yes!" the bandits roared back in unison.

"Then follow me, and take it!" Hilika shouted. "I'm telling you, once the job is done, every one of you will get more than a hundred gold coins each. You can enjoy women to your heart's content, indulge in pleasure, and kill with impunity while earning respect!"

Hilika paused briefly before unleashing another earth-shattering howl. "Because you'll have money!"

The bandits erupted into a frenzy of excitement, their roars shaking the room. The older members of the Shamusi Thieves' Guild were especially fired up, their eyes bloodshot, panting like bulls in heat. Hilika's leadership, while brutal, had always brought tangible rewards. Every time he gathered them like this to give a speech, it meant a major operation was imminent—often something like robbing a royal treasury. Success would mean a shower of gold coins. Long-time followers of Hilika could feel their blood boiling with his same wild greed and lust for wealth.

Satisfied, Hilika surveyed the red-eyed beasts before him, letting out a triumphant roar of his own. He was the largest, strongest, and wildest among them all.

Desire, violence, and fear—these were the eternal principles of control, the forces that moved the world. This was the essence of life. The Shamusi Thieves' Guild had risen to its current heights—and would climb even higher—because he had mastered these principles.

Behind him, the seven elites remained silent, watching the frenzied bandits with cold, detached expressions, as if observing a pack of animals.

A sudden, faintly sharp sound interrupted the bandits' uproar, like a small ripple amidst raging waves—so subtle it almost went unnoticed. None of the bandits seemed aware of it.

But Hilika and the seven elites immediately froze, their expressions darkening.

Apart from Esis and the old man, Hilika and the other six all focused their attention on the largest staircase entrance, the direct passage from above. They all recognized the sound from earlier, the distinct noise of a scream abruptly cut off as someone had their throat slit mid-cry.

The bandits too, sensing the unease from their leader's gaze, turned their eyes to the passage. The previously loud, enthusiastic atmosphere, filled with excitement and chaos, suddenly fell silent.

A thud echoed as a round object rolled down the stairs, bouncing as it came.

By the flickering light of the flames, those nearby could make out what it was. It was a severed human head, the terrified expression still vivid, as if it was about to scream its last breath from the open mouth.

"Quick Blade Jack!" one of the bandits shouted, recognizing the head. It belonged to the agile and highly alert thief who had been stationed at the entrance of the passage, famous for his knife skills. It was said that he could decapitate two men with a single clean strike without getting a drop of blood on himself. But now, it seemed that someone had silently and swiftly severed his head.

There was a sudden silence, followed by the sound of steady footsteps from the dark passage. Quiet and measured, the pace unhurried, the approaching figure was not in a rush and made no effort to conceal their presence. The faint scrape of metal against metal was enough to reveal that the person was wearing armor.

The breath in the basement grew quicker, and some faces began to show fear. The footsteps sounded like the march of a demon from hell, each step echoing in their hearts.

A faint white glow gradually illuminated the passage as the figure neared. As the person walked steadily down the stairs, the outline of their body came into view. First, the gleaming silver boots, followed by a full set of armor that accentuated every curve of the body. In one hand, they held a longsword; in the other, a lance. Finally, a striking, handsome face, with golden hair glowing like sunlight.

The figure was bathed in a soft, milky light that illuminated the otherwise dim basement. The aura surrounding the figure, combined with the armor and face, made it seem as though this was not a demon from hell. If not for the blood dripping from the sword and lance, and the killing intent in the eyes, one could almost mistake the person for an angelic warrior descended to the mortal realm.

"It's the temple knight!" a bandit shouted. Instantly, over a hundred bandits erupted into chaos, with several of the newer recruits fleeing toward another exit.

Hilika stepped forward, snatching a massive two-handed sword from one of his subordinates and, without hesitation, tossing it. It immediately impaled one of the fleeing bandits, pinning him to the wall. The sword pierced through the man's abdomen, and while he didn't die instantly, he writhed and screamed in agony. His screams served to calm the others, causing them to freeze, sweat dripping from their brows, uncertain and paralyzed with fear.

Hilika didn't spare a glance for the man he'd just struck down but instead turned his focus on the female knight, growling lowly, "I've heard you've been at this for quite a while. What, has it come to dealing with us now?"

"I've put quite a bit of effort into investigating your hideout," the temple knight replied, her voice calm and unwavering. She didn't seem concerned at all by the hundreds of Alrasia criminals surrounding her. Her demeanor remained as steady as a mountain, her expression cold as ice, as if the bandits before her were nothing more than lambs or chicks. With a casual motion, she directed the tip of her lance toward all the bandits and then aimed it directly at Hilika's face. "All of you are guilty, your hands stained with blood. No need for trial; in the name of the Lord, I will execute justice here and now. Let your souls be sent to the inferno to atone for your sins."

"Hahaha..." Hilika's laugh echoed like that of a mad lion. His whole body shook with laughter, his face twisted in an expression that no beast, not even a massive bison, could match in savagery. Almost gasping for breath, he spat out, "Just you? Let me tell you something, noble temple knight. The last woman who dared to speak to me like this was... well, I kept her for a full day. I tried every hole in her body, even used a knife on a few. And you," he said, raising his hand to mockingly poke at the knight's beautiful, youthful face, as if to open a wound there. "I'll use you for a whole week, and I'll let all my subordinates take a turn with your holy..."

Before he could finish his sentence, a deafening roar drowned out his voice. The temple knight's lance blazed with white light, throwing out a bolt of pure energy, resembling a thunder strike. In that instant, the entire room seemed to tremble. The lance, charged with rage, launched forward, striking Hilika's massive body and sending him crashing into the stone wall behind him. The lance pierced through his arm, directly into his shoulder. The force of the strike caused the wound to explode open, blood gushing from the torn flesh.

Several bandits, standing directly in the lance's path, fell without a sound, their heads severed, unaware of what had happened until their lives were taken.

The remaining bandits froze in terror, their faces drained of color. Even the seven elites with Hilika looked horrified. They could all tell that they would have no chance against such a strike, nor could they hope to avoid it. Everyone knew the strength of a temple knight was formidable, but no one had expected it to be to this extent.

The temple knight herself seemed surprised. The full-force strike she had just delivered could shatter even a seasoned iron man. Yet, Hilika had not been killed. With astonishing agility and reflexes, he had managed to dodge just enough to avoid a fatal blow, only suffering a deep shoulder wound.

"Kill her," Hilika roared like a bear, pulling out his lance along with a gush of blood and flesh. He realized that capturing such an opponent alive was nearly impossible.

The bandits, following his command, surged forward in a frenzy. This was the basement, and even the escape passages were narrow, leaving them no choice but to fight. Their desperation awakened their courage and determination.

The female knight's longsword flared into a glowing barrier. The first bandits to charge at her immediately turned into piles of dismembered limbs and torsos, scattered in every direction. It wasn't a battle; it was a one-sided massacre—easier than chopping vegetables.

"All of you, fall back!" Hilika shouted again. He could see now that the white light surrounding the temple knight was a combination of multiple powerful support spells layered on top of her innate martial prowess. With such a combination, even a warrior of remarkable skill would be overshadowed. The female knight controlled the passage with no fear of reinforcements, and no number of weak opponents could stand against her.

The bandits, upon hearing the order, retreated in unison. Hilika turned around to face the seven men by his side. His voice quieted, and his expression became more serene. He spoke, "You're not planning to let this bitch kill all my men and then have just the seven of us go after Turaleone, are you?"

"Of course not," the old man replied with a cough. He pulled out a strange-looking wand from his robe, adorned with feathers from some bird.

The other five moved cautiously toward the female knight. They tread carefully, each of them taking their time. The surrounding bandits instinctively moved aside to give them space.

The female knight murmured a low incantation, making her white light shine even brighter, and her longsword gleamed like a beacon. She fixed her cold, piercing gaze on the five approaching opponents, her golden hair flowing like silk.

The five men continued advancing, while the old man with the wand muttered an incantation in a raspy tone, almost like the moaning of someone on the brink of death. The wand emitted a strange glow, and the old man raised it to point at the female knight, shouting loudly.

No one saw any magic shoot out from the wand, but the knight's body trembled, and blood poured from her nose in thick streams.

"Blasphemer! How dare you use soul magic against a follower of the Lord!" The female knight shouted furiously, her eyes blazing with fury as she wiped the blood from her mouth. The blood stopped flowing from her nose, and though her once flawless face was now marred by the blood, the old man's spell seemed to have had no real effect. Her gaze turned murderous as she turned toward the old man. Stretching out a hand toward him, her tone was as cold and commanding as a divine decree. "I will judge you in the name of the Lord."

A brilliant white light shot from her palm, striking the old man directly. The old man, who had expected the knight to be weakened by his attack, was caught off guard. The light enveloped him, and he screamed like a slaughtered animal as his body smoked and crumpled to the floor.

"Light Arrow?" The five men in front of her were stunned. They hadn't expected this knight to unleash such a high-level white magic spell so quickly. Normally used against undead creatures, it was a spell capable of causing massive damage to humans as well—at the level of an advanced cleric's magic.

However, their surprise was short-lived. Their bodies reacted instinctively to the moment of weakness created by the knight's spell. Three of them launched themselves at her immediately, exploiting the brief gap in her defense.

The woman in the black robe discarded it, revealing her face still hidden by a black veil. She wore a tight-fitting black suit that accentuated her long, powerful, and seductive figure, resembling a black panther. She held a pair of dark blue poisoned daggers, her movements as silent and deadly as a fish gliding through water, ready to strike at the knight's neck.

The small, lean man carried a giant two-handed sword, taller and thicker than his own body. It wasn't meant to kill immediately but to crush, to destroy. Another man wielded a pair of fist swords, moving swiftly and with purpose.

The three of them attacked from different directions. The enormous sword swung with such force that it drowned out all other noise in the room. Its path cut through the air with the power of a thunderstorm, the sword's blade creating a devastating wind. The small man wielding it seemed more like an extension of the weapon, using every muscle to power the blade, jumping and twisting with it.

But the most deadly threat came from the veiled woman. Her twin daggers moved with the precision and speed of a predator, seeking out the knight's vulnerable spots while the giant sword kept her attention occupied.

The man with the fist swords was slower to move but took advantage of the chaos. With a leap, he soared to the ceiling and descended from above, his attack aimed directly at the knight's head, as if he were a giant, sharpened needle. His fist swords emitted a sharp, ear-piercing whistle that drowned out the thunder of the giant sword's blows.

They were fast, lethal, and deadly, executing their moves with near-perfect coordination. Despite this being their first time working together, they moved as though they had done so for years. Their instinctual attack formations were those of true masters, every movement honed to perfection.

In the midst of the deadly whirlwind of weapons, the female knight's white aura shone as brightly as the sun. Her movements were remarkably simple. She leapt upward just in time to dodge the sweeping giant sword aimed at her midsection. The black-robed woman, who had been targeting the knight's neck with two short swords, found them only scraping across the knight's steel armor, sending sparks flying. Before she could withdraw her swords, the knight landed a powerful punch to her chest, sending the black-robed woman flying backward. The sound of broken ribs echoed clearly as the woman tumbled.

At the same time the knight's left fist landed, her right hand raised her sword into a blinding light, intercepting the airborne man with the fist swords who had been diving at her from above. This man, the most reckless of the attackers, had launched himself into an all-or-nothing attack. His judgment, however, was precise, and he managed to cross his fist swords in front of him just in time to block the knight's swift sword strike. The moment the blades collided, there was a tremendous impact, the force of the knight's blow pushing the man backward, and the sword's edge left a deep gash from his forehead down to his chin.

As the knight repelled those two, the giant two-handed sword, previously evaded, roared back toward her. She planted her foot on the sword's blade. The massive sword was heavy, and while it didn't need to be razor-sharp, its sheer weight was enough to send shockwaves through the knight's steel-clad boot as she steadied herself. With the sword's momentum, she used it to launch herself toward the wall, rebounding off it to strike the smaller man with her sword. The white light from the blade intensified.

The small man, wielding the giant sword, had a strange synchronization with it. As the knight's blade struck the sword, the man behind it barely moved but staggered back, his head slamming into the sword's hilt. He staggered a few steps back, and then collapsed, spitting blood and a few teeth, clearly dazed.

The black-robed woman, blood dripping from her mouth, stood shakily, while the fist sword-wielding man, though badly injured, had managed to land safely after his fall, despite a deep gash across his face. The knight, after unleashing a series of rapid attacks and defenses, seemed to have exhausted some energy. She paused for a brief moment, her aura dimming slightly before it flared back up.

The bandits watching the fight were confused, not having witnessed the full extent of the battle. They only saw the female knight leap, her white light flash, and the three powerful attackers suddenly fly backward, wounded and bloodied. The speed and ferocity with which she fought left the onlookers in awe.

Hilika, however, was not merely surprised but deeply shocked. His pupils constricted, and his muscles tensed. He could clearly see the sheer power in the knight's movements. This woman wasn't here by luck or simply by the reputation of the Temple Knights—she was a true powerhouse, capable of annihilating entire bandit groups on her own.

The two men who hadn't moved during the fight were also stunned. They hadn't acted quickly enough to support the others, but now, faced with the knight's formidable strength, they hesitated to engage.

The black-robed woman turned sharply toward the figure standing behind them, shouting, "If you don't want to die, figure out how to break her magic! With all those white magic spells, even a rabbit could kill someone!"

"I can't," came the trembling response from Esis. Since the battle began, he had tried to dispel her magic three times, weakening her once, and yet none of his efforts had had any effect. It was as if the woman were an unyielding statue, impervious to his magic.

Hilika tore off a piece of his clothing to bandage his wound and then tightened his grip around his arm. His expression shifted from fierce to eerily calm, like a scholar entering a library. He turned to the silent man beside him and spoke in a calm, measured tone. "Stop hiding your strength. It's time to act, or none of us will leave here alive."