Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1297: Citywide Riot (Final)



Chapter 1297: Citywide Riot (Final)

Perkins Manor.

The moment Caesar, clad in the inherited holy armor of Lancelot Du Lake, appeared on the screen, more than half of the Knight Bureau officials gathered there sprang to their feet in shock.

“Please tell me this is just a joke…”

“Lancelot…”

They all turned to look at Sir Perkins, only to see his expression equally uncertain—clearly, he had not anticipated this development either.

There was no possibility that this was a fake suit of armor meant for bluffing. These people at least possessed the discernment to recognize a genuine holy armor.

Sir Perkins quickly made a decision and immediately issued orders to the knights on site. “You must capture him alive. He very likely possesses a method to strip a legacy knight of their inheritance and forcibly use the holy armor. Under no circumstances can this technique be allowed to spread!”

No one questioned Sir Perkins’s command. The legacy of the Twelve Knights of the Round Table had always been the foundation of the Knight Bureau, and the methods of inheritance had been kept in absolute secrecy throughout history.

It was like someone inventing an ultra-secure cryptocurrency, only for hackers to find a way to mine it freely at will.

…“Understood.”

Knight Gareth switched off his communicator and nodded, then steadied his emotions as quickly as possible.

“Everyone, it seems courtesy is no longer an option. The Knight Bureau has issued the order—we must capture this Oberon, dead or alive.”

“That's without a question,” Knight Gerant responded first, sweeping his hands as a massive knight’s lance appeared in his grip.

Five of the current Twelve Knights of the Round Table were present. Though they faced an enemy who had somehow seized the inherited power of Lancelot, one of their peers, they were not afraid.

Five Round Table knights deploying together was a formation rarely seen.

Coordination and teamwork?

There was no issue. All of them were battle-hardened veterans with combat experience beyond imagination. Adaptation in battle came to them as naturally as instinct.

The instant Gareth, Joker, Gerant, and Tresti attacked Caesar together, the doctor lagged behind by half a beat. A shadow figure quietly emerged from behind him once more and slipped into the night.

Facing the simultaneous assault of four Round Table knights, Caesar could no longer perceive the shadow’s appearance as he had before.

After releasing the shadow, the doctor joined the battle as well.

With his delayed entry, the pressure on Caesar suddenly increased. The ease with which he had annihilated The-Fianna earlier was gone.

“Record all their data carefully! Even though this operation failed, information on the Knights of the Round Table is extremely rare. We cannot miss a single detail!”

In The-Fianna headquarters’ control room, the Prime Minister, having barely recovered from the blow, clenched his teeth as he issued orders to the surviving members on site. This was the only thing he could do now, bitter though it was.

“Heh! I never expected not only to see Britain’s secret weapons, but also five Knights of the Round Table at once. Today really is a carnival. Comrade little Wang, make sure you record everything. Opportunities to see the Knights of the Round Table in action are rare, and five at once is even rarer. This is a major achievement!”

“Understood!”

While Caesar battled the knights, the shadow slipped quietly into the monastery, racing through room after room.

Yet all it found was a single unconscious old priest trapped in a chamber. There was no sign of the Queen.

Only when it reached the stone cell used for imprisonment and saw the traces left behind did it realize that the Queen had already been transferred—very recently.

“So he stayed behind alone just to buy time…”

The shadow rescued the old priest and sent him away, then returned to the doctor and conveyed this information, causing the doctor to frown.

On the battlefield, Caesar stood alone against them all. Though he was not evenly matched, he clearly was not close to defeat either. His mastery of the holy armor shook even these knights who had endured countless trials to inherit such power.

When they learned that the Queen had been moved and the monastery was now empty, the battle escalated further—especially after Mr. Joker smashed half the monastery with a single punch.

Each strike now carried power like an RPG missile, wreaking havoc around the monastery.

The surviving members of The-Fianna, ordered to continue recording the battle, watched in numb horror. The Dragoon armor could unleash attacks of similar power, but only after charging and with lengthy cooldowns—nothing like this relentless onslaught.

Even their speed surpassed the maximum output of Dragoon thrusters, yet they retained terrifying agility and freedom of movement.

“So what were all these years of adjustment and training even for…” one of them muttered bitterly.

A sense of despair crept into their hearts. If the non-humans of the world ever stopped lying dormant and suddenly became active, would humanity truly be able to resist?

After all, The-Fianna’s twenty-three members had been selected through countless trials and forged by years of immense investment. Yet a single Oberon had nearly wiped them out with ease—almost playfully—and that was without even going all out.

No one paid attention to their bitterness. All eyes were fixed on this perilous battle.

The shockwaves of combat spread hundreds of meters beyond the monastery. Yet to Caesar and the five Round Table knights, that distance seemed like a cramped stage, crossed in an instant.

“He’s tough to deal with…” Tresti muttered as he halted, clad in thick, armor-like holy plate. Speed was not his forte.

Unlike Joker’s monstrous physique, Gareth’s exquisite swordsmanship, or the doctor’s flexible control abilities, Tresti specialized in defense and counterattacks. The heavy shield in his hands granted him the strongest protection, allowing him to deliver lethal strikes from behind it.

“Gerant! We can’t drag this out any longer! I’ll raise the shield—unleash your power without restraint!” Tresti shouted.

It was like a signal. In an instant, the doctor, Gareth, and Joker abandoned their assault and flashed behind Tresti.

As Tresti raised his shield high and slammed it into the earth, a massive barrier of light materialized.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that!”

Gerant leveled his enormous Grand Knight lance. From the tip downward, the weapon split apart segment by segment. A rotating magic circle over three meters in diameter, filled with strange runes, appeared at the spearhead.

Terrifying power gathered upon Gerant’s lance—enough to make even Caesar sense real danger.

Beneath the dark violet holy armor, Caesar frowned, then raised the “Indestructible Lake Light.” On the blade, patterns identical to the runes on Gerant’s lance began to appear.

Elven engravings.

Caesar slashed down with all his might. At the same moment, Gerant’s lance released an overwhelming shockwave.

Tearing and destruction collided in midair…

The shockwaves produced by the mere clash of the two forces erupted like a hurricane!

The stabilizers on the Dragoon leg armor extended, yet the vastly greater impact still flipped the earth itself. They were forced to rely on thrusters and activate auxiliary intelligence systems just to maintain balance amid the violent airflow!

Light flooded the night sky—even in the outskirts, the city surely noticed by now.

But this was clearly no time to worry about consequences. Every gaze was locked onto the terrifying point of impact—had the leader of Doomsday Myth been defeated?

When the aftershock faded, the monastery was gone.

In its place yawned a massive crater nearly a hundred meters across. Everything had been annihilated—save for Tresti’s shield standing upright in the earth, the intact narrow strip of land behind it, and Knight Gareth, the Joker, and the Doctor.

“Is he… dead?”

Gerant panted, gripping the enormous Grand Knight lance with both hands as thick steam poured off it, the air warping violently. Large portions of his holy armor had peeled away, leaving only the pieces on his arms and legs. Suddenly, he shouted, “Be careful—he’s not dead!”

As Gerant cried out, a figure slowly emerged from the dense smoke.

Still holding the Indestructible Lake Light, Caesar walked forward, the clashing joints of his holy armor ringing sharply in the night.

He was not unscathed—his helmet was shattered, revealing half his face, and jagged cracks crisscrossed his chest plate.

Gerant raised his weapon again, and the Joker and the others stepped out from behind the massive shield.

The battle wasn’t over.

“All right, time’s about up.” Caesar lifted his gaze to the sky. The clouds drifted, a bright full moon hanging high.

“Giving up?” Mr. Joker laughed eerily, narrowing his eyes.

Caesar slowly shook his head and glanced at the helicopter the knights had arrived in. Calmly, he said, “I said you’d give me an answer before dawn tomorrow. The time isn’t up yet—but you’ve already broken the rules. Since you want to break them, I don’t mind adding a few new elements to this game.”

With that, Caesar let the Indestructible Lake Light disperse—and his holy armor vanished as well.

His bare back writhed, and then a pair of wings unfolded—shaped like enormous hands, connected by blood-red flesh membranes.

As the others stared in shock, Caesar shot up into the night sky. Standing beneath the full moon, he released a tremendous howl.

Arms spread wide, he threw back his head and roared—the sound thundered across the heavens, long and unending!

“What is he trying to do?” Gareth frowned.

A scream answered him.

At the battlefield’s edge, several members of The-Fianna clutched their heads and collapsed in agony!

The howl carried rage and lamentation. Even Gareth and the others felt dizzy, their bodies growing uncoordinated.

The sound spread, filling the night sky over the entire Foggy City…

Foggy City streets.

The instant the horrific cry arrived, shopfront glass shattered. A pedestrian suddenly clutched his head and collapsed.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Several passersby rushed over—but when they turned him over, his eyes glowed crimson.

His teeth sharpened. Brown-black fur burst from his body. In the blink of an eye, he transformed into a towering werewolf over two meters tall!

Roar!

The monstrous werewolf pounced on nearby pedestrians and began tearing into them.

In an office, a programmer typing at his keyboard suddenly foamed at the mouth and collapsed forward. His body twisted violently.

He stared in terror at his reflection on the screen before falling to the floor—then a massive claw slammed onto the desk.

It… stood up.

“What the heck…”

On patrol, a police car screeched to a halt. An officer stepped out, staring in horror at the sudden chaos.

Fires. Smoke. Figures crawling along building walls. Screaming crowds fleeing in panic. Cars crashing together. A toppled fire hydrant spraying water. And amid a traffic jam, a monstrous figure lifting a modern car overhead.

“Re… reinforcements! Reinforcements!!!”

The officer jolted, scrambling back toward his patrol car to reach the radio.

But as he opened the door, he was met by a pair of crimson eyes—his partner had already transformed into a fur-covered monster and lunged at him.

Social Services Center.

The beastwoman suddenly clutched her head and curled up on the floor in pain. Oga, who had been holding a guitar and learning a tune with Will, suddenly went blank-eyed. To everyone’s shock, he walked to the window and gazed up at the full moon.

His pupils turned vertical, glimmering with flecks of gold. Then he collapsed, unconscious.

The beastwoman struggled to her feet, clearly resisting unbearable pain. At last, she grabbed a pair of scissors and stabbed them into her own arm.

She seemed a little better—though blood streamed down her arm.

The scene threw the entire center into chaos.

Outside, noisy shouts rose—there seemed to have been a traffic accident on the street.

Song Dynasty Hotel.

Back kitchen.

Clang!

A frying pan crashed to the floor. The steak in it was still medium-rare, the rich aroma of butter, beef fat, and juices lingering in the air.

The chef staggered backward in terror until his back hit the wall—nowhere left to run.

Trembling, voice shaking, he stammered, “A… Aick?”

Before him stood a massive creature, greenish-blue, tusked, hooked-nosed, bursting out of the chef’s uniform.

The entire city—rioting.

(End of Chapter)


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