Capítulo 273: 274. The Dust of Heroes.
The wild grass swayed with the night wind, and green lights appeared at the horizon's edge.
One by one.
In an instant, they became as numerous as the foam on a wave. The ordinary soldiers and the injured from the celebratory parade were still in shock. But Allen and Vesemir had already narrowed their eyes, recognizing the true nature of those lights gathering like a tide.
Strange green lanterns, withered and emaciated bodies, weapons of all shapes and sizes...
Wraiths!
At least a thousand Wraiths, tormented by pain and rage, filled with hatred and envy for the living, were drawn by the scent of blood and rushing forward.
"Is this the 'bigger problem' you mentioned?" Allen glanced at Vesemir.
"Hiss~"
The Witcher master, looking at this horrifying scene, drew a sharp breath and shook his head.
"No, this is much worse than I imagined… far, far worse."
Not to mention Allen, who had just recently descended from the mountains as a new Witcher. Even Vesemir had never encountered such a grand sight of hundreds and thousands of Wraiths coming straight at them.
Of course.
He didn't wish to have such an experience either. The two Witchers silently drew their silver swords and carefully applied specter oil.
At this moment.
A commotion arose behind them.
"Ah!!! Ghosts!"
"Lady Melitele! Those are spirits here to claim our lives!"
"Run! Run!"
----------------------
The May Day revelers, who hadn't fully regained their senses, fell into panic once again when they saw the terrifying figures illuminated by the ghostly lanterns.
"Silence!"
The leading black-helmeted knight bellowed, riding his horse and using his sword hilt to fiercely strike a few youths who were spreading panic.
"With the Witcher army and the knight-guard here, what are you afraid of…"
"Moreover..."
The black-helmeted knight glanced in the direction of the Witchers and the sorceress, then continued to shout: "Lady Vera the Red Fox, Allen Master and Vesemir Master of the Wolf School are all here to protect Ellander…"
"Master Allen is the May Day King you all elected, so calm down quickly, help the injured back into the city, and don't embarrass us Ellanderers!"
It was unclear whether it was the black-helmeted knight's fierce tone, the renowned names of Vera and the Wolf School Witchers...
Or the fact that Allen, their peer, or even younger than them, along with the May Day Queen Mary, were both facing terrifying monsters head-on, sparking their sense of pride.
Or perhaps it was a mix of all these factors.
Though fear still lingered in their eyes and their bodies trembled, the youths really did quiet down.
In pairs, they helped the wounded and staggered towards Ellander.
"It's too dangerous here, you should go back with them." Allen looked at the retreating crowd and softly urged Mary beside him.
The girl looked at the approaching tide of Wraiths, her face pale, but she resolutely shook her head.
She knew Allen couldn't leave, so she didn't try to persuade him, just as Vera, despite knowing what was coming, hadn't tried to stop him either.
A Witcher of the Wolf School would never flee when humans were under attack by monsters. But with so many Wraiths, the idea of waiting in the city, trembling with fear...
She just couldn't do it!
"I can help you this time, I won't be a burden," the girl pleaded.
You have some cheat skill?
Did you become a new person in just over twenty days?
Allen was about to quietly persuade her again.
At that moment.
"Monster Hunt army, dismount!"
"Form up!"
After arranging the wounded, the black-helmeted knight loudly ordered.
The soldiers in black armor who had arrived with him dismounted one by one, grouping into formations of five, and moved to stand before the two Witchers. They held long weapons, axe-halberds that gleamed with a blue glow under the torchlight, staring fearlessly at the approaching tide of Wraiths.
"Clang!"
In almost perfect unison, the sound of drawn swords echoed. The knights in gray armor also unsheathed their long swords coated in specter oil, positioning their horses next to the Witcher army.
Allen recognized the knight leading them—it was Arthur.
Once the two units, totaling around 300 soldiers, were in formation, Arthur approached the sorceress, bowing respectfully.
"Lady Vera..."
The sorceress, still preparing her ritual, glanced at the ever-nearing Wraiths, her face expressionless.
"I need more time."
Arthur was silent for a moment, then looked back at his comrades holding their swords. Taking a deep breath, he nodded resolutely.
"We will do our best to buy you that time."
With that, he rode back. When he passed by Vesemir and Allen, Arthur hesitated briefly. But in the end, he said nothing and returned to the front of the knight-guard. The eerie green glow of the Wraiths drew ever closer, now only about 800 meters away.
"Check your sword oil!" Arthur's gaze swept over his comrades.
Under the torchlight, every sword gleamed with the blue glow of specter oil.
Arthur solemnly nodded toward the black-helmeted knight in the distance, then squeezed his legs against his horse, raising his blue-glowing sword and shouting: "Knight-guard! Charge!"
In the next moment.
"Neigh—"
A black warhorse let out a loud cry, charging forward like lightning toward the clawing monsters. The remaining knights pulled their reins, kicking up clouds of dust as they followed closely behind. The ground trembled under the horses' hooves.
Arthur watched as the eerie green tide drew closer.
They hadn't ridden far.
When he heard the mournful cries of horses and the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground to his right. Nighttime was not meant for humans.
Despite the many torches and bonfires burning nearby from the celebrations, and the ugly Wraiths holding their lanterns, the night still brought its disadvantages.
Pits, stones, mud…
The terrain outside Ellander's walls was uneven.
No experienced cavalry commander would choose to launch a charge under such conditions at this time of night.
Unfortunately…
Behind them were their homes, their families, the lords they had sworn allegiance to, and countless people, known and unknown, who had joined in the celebration at Ellander.
Tonight.
Ellander was already battered and bloodied, with heavy casualties.
They had no other choice. The hoofbeats thundered. The warhorse beneath him panted heavily. Arthur's heartbeat grew faster, more intense, matching the warhorse's breathing.
The faceless Wraiths wielding swords were getting closer!
Their gray cloaks looked particularly eerie under the glow of their green lanterns.
"Huff~"
Arthur exhaled heavily, glancing at the moonlight reflecting off his blue-glowing sword. He didn't know if the young Witcher's specter oil would work. But that didn't matter.
A knight's path is one of protection. Now, protection required time, and he would exchange his life for it!
"Charge!"
With a furious roar that made the veins on his neck bulge, Arthur tugged his reins to the right.
Under his expert horsemanship, the cavalry formation veered eastward, skimming past the oncoming tide of Wraiths.
"Sss—"
In the intense sound of boiling water evaporating, a flash of blue light streaked through the air. Arthur's longsword sliced through the edge of the wraith tide, cutting down over a dozen wraiths. These wraiths visibly dimmed, their forms fading by about one-third.
The next second...
"Ahh—"
Blue light flickered repeatedly. One by one, the wraiths let out horrifying screams, igniting eerie green flames, and evaporating into thin air.
"It works!"
Even the usually calm and cautious Arthur almost shouted in surprise at the sight. Behind him, the knights let out high-pitched cheers, their morale soaring. The wraiths could phase in and out, but it took time for them to do so.
With just three strikes from a knight's sword, a wraith could be vanquished. It took less than a second. These clumsy creatures, driven by instinctive hatred and jealousy toward the living, barely had time to react. And even if the wraiths that survived or dodged managed to phase out...
There was a limit to their phasing distance, so they couldn't catch up with the charging knights.
Of course, Arthur didn't blame the past generations for not thinking of this cavalry strategy for eliminating wraiths.
Without the specter oil, even if they all wielded the silver weapons used by the Monster Hunt army, it would take at least twenty or thirty strikes to take one down. Three strikes versus twenty or thirty—over time, the difference would be monumental.
Especially when, in a drawn-out battle, it would be hard to ensure that each knight's strike hit the same target.
As time dragged on, once other wraiths filled the gaps in the ranks, it would all be for nothing.
Honestly, before the advent of specter oil, even the Duke of Mason's heavily financed Monster Hunt army wouldn't dare engage a single wraith without at least five soldiers working together. Even then, a small mistake by one of the soldiers could lead to disastrous losses.
Most of the time, fighting wraiths was best left to the witchers. After all, each soldier of the Monster Hunt army was worth far more than the bounty for killing a wraith.
Arthur glanced back at the wraiths attracted by their first charge, feeling a surge of confidence.
"Turn around!" He let out a spirited shout, raising his sword high. The knights circled back, forming a half-arc, preparing to face the wraith tide once more.
"Charge!"
With a loud cry, the tide of the living collided once more with the tide of the dead, igniting brilliant, eerie green flames in their wake.
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On the other side of the battlefield, Sara, the officer of the Monster Hunt army clad in black armor, narrowed his eyes. Though he could see the fireworks in the distance, crafted by his comrades, he felt little joy in his heart.
"There are too many!"
Sara sighed helplessly. Arthur might not have been able to see clearly from his vantage point, but Sara could. Those green flames, blooming like flowers, were barely noticeable amidst the sea of hundreds and thousands of wraith lanterns. They hadn't even managed to draw the attention of the entire wraith horde.
Most of the wraiths continued moving forward at a steady, albeit slightly slower pace. And their destination...
No.
Sara turned to glance at the brightly lit city behind them. Their destination was not him or the army but the blood and life emanating from the city of Ellander. That's where they were headed.
Moreover...
Although the soldiers inside the city had generously donated their supplies of specter oil to the knights, it was scarce. Each knight only carried two bottles.
Once the oil was depleted, the knights would have no choice but to use their lives to delay the wraiths.
Not to mention that their warhorses were not tireless machines. The knights might find themselves in grave danger long before the oil runs out.
So...
"How much longer?"
Staring at the distant cavalry, their pace slowing under the green lights, Sara felt an almost unbearable anxiety gnawing at him. But he forced the feeling down, not even glancing toward the sorceress Vera, who was preparing the ritual.
He feared that even a glance might disrupt her work. He couldn't even order his men to advance and engage the wraiths. It would be a pointless sacrifice, squandering the precious time they were buying with their lives.
Only when the knights were either all dead or completely ineffective could the Monster Hunt army step in. They would buy Ellander its final chance for survival with their lives. Just then, a disturbance broke out among the Monster Hunt army.
Sara quickly turned toward the wraiths, but the hundred flickering lights still sparkled in the distance.
"Arthur's squad isn't the problem," he thought with relief.
Then what was?
Following the disturbance, he saw two figures, both carrying twin swords and leading two horses, slowly walking into the darkness. In the face of the surging green tide, they seemed as insignificant as grains of sand.
"What are those witchers planning?"
The thought barely had time to form before Sara slapped his forehead. Of course. He'd been too anxious to think clearly.
What else could witchers do but... fight... monsters?
Wait... fight?
Sara paused.
Had they... lost their minds?
As an officer responsible for Ellander's defenses, Sara had dealt with witchers often. He knew the ranks and capabilities of the master witchers. Though few in number, he had worked with one or two in the past to exterminate monsters.
But this?
This was over a thousand wraiths. Not a single witcher he had ever known would dare face such numbers. That's why Arthur hadn't even bothered asking them to help earlier. For one, no sane person would agree to such a request, and Arthur didn't want to humiliate himself.
Secondly...
A bounty of two to three thousand orens was substantial, but not worth a hero's life. Master witchers could save far more lives with their skills. Especially someone like Allen, the young witcher who had created the recipes for specter oil and necrophage oil, and who had earned the nickname "The Blue Death."
That's why, long before they had arrived, Arthur and Sara had secretly agreed on this plan after hearing about Ellander's impending disaster from High Priestess Ianna.
"Wait..."
Sara opened his mouth, staring at the figures of the twin-sword-wielding witchers. But then the sounds of weeping and shouting from Ellander filled his ears. The faces of his lord, his wife, children, and comrades flashed in his mind.
He couldn't say it.
He couldn't tell them to stay behind and save themselves. It felt like, if those words left his mouth, everything in his mind would be consumed by the hateful green flames. So, in the end, he could only watch as the two witchers mounted their black horses, riding off into the sea of wraith lanterns.
Without saying anything...
Without doing anything...
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
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275. I Have My Battlefield.
276. Conjunction of the Spheres—Wraiths.
277. The First Battle of the Divine Sword Balmur.
278. White Light and Frost.
279. Please Make Way.
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