I Became a Mythical Knight King

Chapter 44: Death Army (4)

The necromancer’s head floated in the air.

A sharp, destructive strike severed her thin, long neck in one blow.

Crimson blood gushed from the severed area.

Simultaneously, black magic surged from both the head and neck, reaching toward each other.

Even someone unfamiliar with magic could instinctively sense that if those two forces merged, the necromancer would be resurrected.

But it didn’t happen.

Golden flames suddenly erupted from the severed area of the necromancer’s neck.

The silver sword was not merely a sharp blade.

It was a sacred sword that burned away unholy forces.

Golden flames spread from the neck, consuming the black magic and the necromancer’s head and body simultaneously.

Her body could not withstand it and crumbled into ashes in an instant.

Even the plague doctor’s mask that concealed her face ignited, briefly revealing the necromancer’s true face.

It was a pale, young woman’s face.

Though her face was full of pain, her eyes were strangely devoid of emotion.

Just hollow, black eyes.

Yoo Seong saw those eyes and sensed the presence of someone beyond them.

Whoosh—!

The necromancer’s head also ignited, turning to ash.

As if fueled by black magic many times stronger than Rene’s, the golden flames flared up, scorching everything around.

“Grrrr…”

The once-silent corpses collapsed with a low groan.

Like dominoes falling, the corpses around the necromancer and those attacking the walls of Lothian lost their strength, crumbling or turning to ash.

Thanks to his giant-like height from the power of chivalry, Hector looked down from above and let out a boisterous laugh.

The heavy infantry fighting nearby dropped their shields and axes, breathing sighs of relief.

The battle had been short, but exhausting enough to drench them in sweat.

From the sky, Diana, who had been preparing a second charge, exhaled in relief and looked toward the walls.

On the walls, soldiers fighting in a trance could only pant at the sight of the collapsing corpses, and even Rene, who had been firing magic frantically, slumped to the ground, too tired to rejoice.

Jillian was in worse shape.

With her eyes tightly shut, she continued to pray, unaware that the corpses had disappeared.

Sir Ruan, who had been fighting to protect Jillian, simply laughed at her persistence, while the soldiers on the walls who now grasped the situation gazed beyond the walls where Yoo Seong stood.

“Our lord has slain the wicked sorcerer!”

Hector shouted loudly toward the wall, and his thunderous voice drew everyone’s attention.

In response, Yoo Seong raised the silver sword high, and the pure white blade, gleaming in the moonlight, was visible from afar.

“We won!”

“We won!”

“Long live the lord!”

“Hooray!”

The soldiers on the walls burst into cheers.

Some collapsed in relief, sobbing, while others shouted with joy, spreading the news of victory to the townspeople beyond the walls.

“Hooray for the Saintess!”

The soldiers who had fought near Jillian wept openly, cheering loudly.

Having witnessed a miracle firsthand and survived because of it, their emotions were overwhelming.

“Hooray for Omphalos!”

“Hooray!”

Hearing the soldiers’ tearful cheers, Jillian finally opened her eyes, surprised to see the soldiers—no, future believers—around her. She quickly understood the situation.

We won.

We survived.

Thank you, Omphalos!

Jillian began to pray again, now weeping, and the soldiers, deeply moved, couldn’t hold back their admiration.

To them, the sight of Jillian praying with tears in her eyes was beautiful and sacred.

Even Sir Ruan, who knew she was simply crying, couldn’t help but be moved, so it was no surprise that the ordinary soldiers were profoundly affected.

They began to pray alongside Jillian, many of them vowing to believe in Omphalos from that day forward.

Thus, the northern section of the west wall became a prayer meeting, while the southern section remained filled with pure, simple joy.

“Hooray for the Witch!”

“Hooray!”

Rene offered a wry smile at the term “witch,” but she was adept at riding the mood.

Instead of praying or collapsing from mana exhaustion like Jillian, she celebrated with the soldiers, shouting “Hooray!” with them, which only heightened the cheers.

Though the atmosphere differed, both sections were filled with the euphoria of victory.

Yoo Seong, returning to the walls, sheathed the silver sword and let out a long sigh.

[City Defense: Virtue points increased.]

[Defeat of the Army of the Dead: Virtue points increased.]

[Level up.]

[Level up.]

[Diana’s level increased.]

[Hector’s level increased.]

[Rene’s level increased.]

[Royal Saint: Jillian added.]

[Jillian’s level increased.]

[Achievement Unlocked: Master of the Holy Sword.]

Yoo Seong unconsciously gave a wry smile as he read the text floating in the status window.

“She really is a Saintess.”

The Saintess of Omphalos, Jillian.

Like Rene, her addition to the status window meant she would grow rapidly from now on.

‘She doesn’t seem suited for combat, but…there’s no helping it.’

He couldn’t just let someone this talented go to waste.

Recalling Jillian’s tearful face, Yoo Seong chuckled softly and turned around.

It was because he felt the presence of something massive approaching.

“It was a splendid battle.”

“You too. Thanks to you, we won.”

When Yoo Seong responded concisely to the straightforward praise, Hector laughed heartily and pounded his chest.

“I’ll be off, then. Glory to Camelot.”

“Glory to Camelot.”

Hector and the heavy infantry vanished into light.

Having already sent Diana and Enika back, Yoo Seong found himself alone. He surveyed the corpses strewn about and turned to where the necromancer had perished.

At the spot where the golden flames had burned brightest, not a single corpse or trace of foul energy remained. It was so stark it felt almost out of place. But Yoo Seong wasn’t looking because of the strange contrast.

It was the hollow, black eyes he had seen as he cut down the necromancer.

Her face had been twisted in pain, yet her eyes had held a completely different emotion.

Not the necromancer who stood there, but the presence beyond her.

Swallowing dryly, Yoo Seong turned toward the wall again.

The cheers from the wall continued, bringing a smile to his face, though only for a moment.

“Ah.”

He should’ve sent Diana back later.

Out of strength from repeatedly using the Sword of Flame, Yoo Seong sighed deeply and trudged toward the wall.

“The lord has returned!”

Even before Yoo Seong arrived, the gates had been thrown wide open. The waiting crowd erupted in cheers to welcome him.

At the forefront, of course, stood Rene.

“You’ve done well.”

“You too, Rene.”

Though the words were simple, they exchanged them warmly. Both smiled faintly, as if sharing a private joke.

“Where is High Priestess Jillian?”

Yoo Seong scanned the gathered crowd and asked. Rene furrowed her brows slightly before answering.

“Well…I think she fainted from the release of tension.”

Her awkward smile made Yoo Seong pause, but then he understood.

It seemed like it was the first time she had fully used her powers, even though she had awakened as a Saintess right after receiving the oracle when they first met. It was only natural for her to be exhausted.

‘Is that why Ruan’s not here?’

There was likely no one else to carry the fainted Saintess.

“High Priestess Jillian…no, the Saintess truly did an incredible job.”

The divine barrier, towering several dozen meters high, was nothing short of spectacular.

She wasn’t called a Saintess for nothing.

Although he hadn’t seen it yet, her healing power, a hallmark of clerics, was sure to be extraordinary.

‘I absolutely have to bring her along from now on.’

In truth, Yoo Seong had reluctantly deployed Jillian in this defensive battle because she was the only one capable of managing the sacred barrier of Omphalos on the walls.

But now that she was a full-fledged Saintess, things had changed.

‘How could I not?’

She was the best healer and defender.

From now on, he planned to take her to every battlefield.

‘I’m sorry, Saintess Jillian.’

The image of her sobbing—no, outright bawling—came to mind naturally, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Oh, of course, Rene, your contribution was amazing too.”

Though his timing seemed a bit off, Yoo Seong’s praise made Rene smirk mischievously. She puffed out her chest.

“I am the King’s Magician, after all.”

“Right, so you can rest now.”

Jillian wasn’t the only one who had overexerted herself.

Rene was pretending to be lively, but she couldn’t fool Yoo Seong.

She was probably forcing herself to stay awake, yearning to collapse into sleep.

“Robin, take care of her.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Robin, standing beside Rene, answered promptly and supported her by the shoulder.

Rene blinked a few times, then gave a clumsy smile.

“Uh… it’s a bit strange, but… good night?”

“Yeah, sleep well, Rene. Have sweet dreams.”

Yoo Seong responded as if giving permission, and Rene, like a marionette with its strings cut, leaned into Robin’s arms and closed her eyes, falling into a deep sleep.

It seemed she had been forcing herself to hold on.

After entrusting Rene to Robin, Yoo Seong passed through the gates, receiving cheers from the soldiers and villagers, and headed toward the inner castle.

At the entrance to the inner castle, Iserina and the officials were lined up.

“Congratulations on the victory.”

“Hehehe, it was a great victory. A great victory!”

Following Iserina, LordR spoke, his joy almost childlike.

He looked like a warrior, but his actual strength was quite ordinary, though he was still an endearing man.

Yoo Seong responded appropriately to both of them and then gave instructions for the follow-up work.

Thanks to the arrival of Sir Simon in the middle, Yoo Seong was able to wrap up things fairly quickly. Afterward, he sank into the bathwater prepared by Iserina’s maidservants and closed his eyes.

Three invasions and three successful defenses.

How long would the attacks continue, and what were the invaders’ goals?

The prince of the kobolds, the trolls, and now the necromancer who had attacked.

Yoo Seong couldn’t continue his thoughts.

He sank into a deep sleep.

The woman stared straight ahead.

She was wearing a large beast’s bone on her head, like a hat or helmet.

Her hair was white and long.

Her cloak, which wrapped around her entire body, was a dark grayish color but very few could discern that the color was gray.

It was a dark world.

The ash-gray sky, which seemed to blur the lines between day and night, held no sun, moon, or even stars.

Because the sky was dark, the land was dark too, and the overwhelming darkness of the world deepened further.

The world outside the wall.

A world where the flames of civilization had been lost.

The woman was one of those called kings beyond the wall, and she was the true master of the magic the necromancer had used to invade Lothian.

The woman, standing alone, gazed at the wall.

The tall violet wall was filled with small cracks.

Among them, some were wide enough that parts of the wall had actually crumbled, and from those gaps, something alien was seeping out.

The light and warmth of civilization.

The sacred light of civilization, which was becoming increasingly rare in the world outside the wall.

The woman recalled the dark forest.

And then she imagined a small campfire, flickering alone in the middle of that forest.

It was so small and fragile, but in a world of darkness, it stood out too much, too brightly.

What would those who found that light do?

“Arthur.”

The king of humans.

The one who, along with the gods of humans, including Omphalos, created the wall and thus the human world.

But the wall was not perfect.

The light Arthur had concealed was eventually exposed.

The woman, watching the light and warmth leaking from the cracks, widened her view and gazed at the entire wall.

The inhabitants of the forest were gathering.

Drawn by the light.

Drawn by the warmth.

Once more yearning for the baptism of fire.

“Arthur.”

The woman, her face curling into a dry smile, looked up at the sky.

The empty sky filled her red eyes completely.