Bear School Astartes

Chapter 944 - 926: Charge!

"Don’t stop! Move forward! Charge!"

Lann shouted loudly, holding Geside in his arms, advancing under Klimte’s guidance.

The Great Library was so vast that even the beams used to reinforce the dome looked like a complex network of roads.

The Winged Knights had already descended to this level, flapping their wings.

The soul magic raining down on them wasn’t actually too dangerous for them.

As knights of an angelic faith, their armor naturally had a good resistance to magic.

Moreover, in the last supply run before setting out, everyone was given a Magic Square Stone Ring.

The small items crafted by the clergy further enhanced their magic resistance.

An ordinary [Giant Soul Arrow] would need four or five hits before causing any noticeable effect on them.

But how many were coming up now if not ’four or five’?

"Pop pop pop."

The soul magic hit their armor, followed by the continual sound of shattering into particles of light.

Meanwhile, the frenzied slaves screamed and wielded scorching dark red weapons, climbing madly like rabid dogs onto the tall and hefty bodies of the Winged Knights, slashing and clawing.

In such tight and frantic attacks, the Winged Knights, under Lann’s lead, were wounded on a large scale for the first time.

The high-grade armor, designed with arching protrusions to deflect attacks, was rapidly deteriorating.

Marks from weapons left grim scars on it.

Their wings, albeit disproportionate in size but still considered full-feathered, were gathering scars and losing feathers.

But their enemies were having a hard time as well.

The small slaves were as fragile as chickens under a butcher’s knife before the Winged Knights’ weaponry.

Whether it was the short-handled double axes or long-handled halberds, a sweep would be followed by a dull sound of bones breaking.

And if it hit the blade, there would be the sticky sound of flesh being torn apart.

Charred pine resin had long been smeared on the Winged Knights’ weapons, now every swing was a blaze of fire.

The more impatient Winged Knights were already leaping off the beams of the dome with wings spread, eager to draw blood from the Sages casting spells below.

The robust size and fierce mobility of the Winged Knights effectively distracted the Sages’ attention.

Fewer spells came toward Lann’s direction as a result.

Guided by the terrain-savvy Klimte, they found a vertical ladder from the beam that led them to a stable upper terrace.

The Great Library’s space was vast, not only in square footage but also in height, hence it was divided into several floors.

Each floor was filled with many bookshelves, packed with books.

"Over here!"

Klimte sprinted a few steps, stopping by an open window on the side of a terrace.

Having moved with Lann all this while, he was starting to get used to thinking efficiently while in high-speed motion.

What path to take?

If it can be flipped, flip it; if it can be smashed, smash it, won’t that work!

"Crash," the long spear in his hand thrashed about, shattering the beautifully painted stained glass window to pieces.

The archbishop immediately jumped in through the man-high window frame.

Lann was even faster, ducking his head as he followed, protecting Geside in his arms as they entered.

But just as he stepped inside, Lann saw Klimte’s body as if hit by something, with a ’bang’, flying backward.

Beyond the window lay a spacious staircase, and even the stairwell connecting the staircase had several bookshelves placed at its corners.

Lann didn’t even have time to turn his head to see what exactly had struck Klimte.

Because Klimte, who had been knocked away, faced an even more urgent and severe issue.

He flew back, crashing into three or four bookshelves placed at the corner of the stairwell!

The ’bang bang’ of heavy paper book covers hitting each other, along with the ’whoosh’ of bookshelves collapsing and books falling, mixed together.

The books themselves were unremarkable...the unusual was the things inside the books!

Silently and suddenly, out of the chaos and impact, many claws stretched out from the opened books, resembling those of Ausloes after dragonification, slender and sharp.

Those claws were translucent pale purple, thin and long, swaying as if impatiently wanting to drag someone in front of the book, eager for them to gaze upon the knowledge inscribed.

Klimte, having crashed into the book-laden corner, upon contact with the translucent claws reached out from the books, instinctively widened his eyes, his expression turning pained and terrified.

His mouth opened wide, like a fish out of water gasping for breath.

Lann’s eyes turned deep in an instant.

[Spiritual Vision] was activated.

Lann controlled his gaze, ensuring [Spiritual Vision] did not glimpse at the contents within the books.

Mentos also automatically activated visual shielding, casting a mosaic pattern over those book contents. Preventing the subject from mistakenly viewing them.

And in that situation, within those translucent claws, Lann felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

This sensation felt familiar, as if... as if facing Ausloes, at the moment of the old King’s last breath before death.

The crystalline breath, the power of cursed death!

Using [Spiritual Vision], Lann couldn’t fully understand, but at least recognized the nature of the damage, without a moment’s hesitation.

With a "click," the hook and lock of the projector on his left arm shot out, grabbing Klimte’s collar who had just landed less than half a second ago.

Then immediately pulled it back.

The archbishop had just been knocked flying, but shortly after he was reeled back.

His holy robe was torn to pieces, yet Klimte, who was pulled out, seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

Being among those books just now, even for less than a second, he felt like he was about to die.

Curse Death, the manner of death caused by this curse, was something Klimte had seen before.

In fact, as clergy, one should have seen most of the ways of dying in this world.

This curse doesn’t initially cause significant harm to people, not even pain.

It simply evokes a profound fear from the depths of one’s soul.

But when the curse accumulates and surpasses a certain limit, then immediately... the cursed will inevitably die.

As if growing outward from the inside of the body, black-purple filthy crystalline clusters envelop the human form, fixing it into the deceased’s final posture.

Whether Divine Race, humans, or any other species, any life form... the horror of curse death never lies in the manner of dying, but in its inescapability.

Once the limit is exceeded, death is certain.

And as Klimte was pulled out of the scattered pile of books by Lann, they finally had time to concern themselves with the force that had knocked the archbishop flying.

The sound of iron boots stomping on stone bricks came from the other side of the stairs, which led to the external corridor of the Great Library, with the dim yellow sky of Losric visible through the door frame.

And a knight, shouldering a Losric Knight’s Greatsword, entered aggressively from outside.

His visor was lowered, but even from the observation slit in the helmet, a chilling gaze could be sensed.

White light dotted the Losric Knight’s Greatsword.

It was [Blessed Weapon], a miracle that high-ranking knights must master.

This Losric knight of knight captain rank made a decisive thrust forward at Lann!

The Losric Knight’s Greatsword charged like a spear, stabbing out!

However, the difficulty of wielding such a greatsword is nothing like crude weapons such as spears.

A slight twist of the grip could make the whole greatsword move with formidable momentum.

This knight’s level was hardly inferior to Lorenzo’s!

And now Klimte was still lying on the ground unrisen, while Lann cradled Geside in his arms...

"Bang!"

Just as the terrifying whistling sound of the greatsword swept towards him, Lann squinted slightly.

Watching as the tip of the exquisite blade approached his chest, he abruptly formed a hand seal with his left hand and aimed at the side of the greatsword!

[Alder’s Rune]!

During the forceful thrust, the sword path was knocked askew, and for ordinary swordsmen, this could easily result in losing grip on the handle.

But for a knight of this caliber... this was nothing more than an insufficient delay technique.

"[Force Surge]? A drunkard’s trick from the nation of Catalina!"

Agreeing with Lorenzo’s view, he also seemed to perceive Lann’s [Alder’s Rune] as a unique miracle from a country called Catalina.

The trajectory of the thrust was deflected sideways, yet this knight’s stance was astoundingly solid.

Along the direction in which the sword was deflected, he performed a full-body spin.

The failed thrust immediately transformed into a downward chop with added rotation inertia!

Lann’s act of knocking the sword aside actually increased the inertia of the chop! Yet it only wasted a negligible amount of the opponent’s time.

But in truth, the Demon Hunter only intended to gain this bit of time.

Facing the opponent’s downward-chopping greatsword, Lann stepped back.

Immediately...

The wind rushed with a "whoosh."

A Winged Knight burst through the window, flapping wings!

His massive armor spun, and the double axes in his hands rotated as well.

The Losric Knight exposed sideways due to his move was immediately like a damaged rag doll.

A chain of sparks erupted on him, then he was chopped away, crashing into the wall!

His Power of Soul was still robust, so the injuries were not the issue.

The Losric Knight grasping his greatsword, flung away, propped himself with the sword attempting to rise and face his new adversary.

One who had just been knocked flying with a sudden strike, a constrained warrior, plus a Winged Knight. It’s nothing substantial, as the first two posed no real threat.

Yet as he prepared to regroup, finally fixing the wobbling helmet and aligning the observation slit with his eye, the knight was shocked to discover, in the small staircase space...

At least three Winged Knights had flown in.

Propping up the greatsword to rise, his body stiffened for a moment, which was his last moment in life.

Because in the next instant, the three rotating ’bladed gyros’ utterly exhausted his Power of Soul.

Following that was the relentless cutting, until life was entirely extinguished.