Chapter 69

Chapter 69

Chapter 69

Chapter 69

It was not the classic fear that leads you to believe you will be the next victim. In reality, it could not even be classified as simple panic.

It was not a figure of speech; death was truly falling from the sky like a downpour, inevitable and destructive.

A 20 mm Gatling-type mechanism.

Dale, shielded by his men, focused all his concentration on the spell, releasing the pure vibration of carnage.

The Gatling machine gun. The primary instrument of mass devastation.

In some aspects, it completely surpassed any notion that the inhabitants of this world possessed regarding mass destruction magic.

Multiple dark barrels spewed endless bursts of shadowy projectiles: shadow bullets. The exact quantity lacked relevance. The darkness concentrated at Dale’s feet, mutating into hundreds of projectiles that fell in an uninterrupted deluge.

A bombardment of 20 mm shadow projectiles.

“Aaaah!”

“It hurts, it hurts!”

The detonations rumbled with force, followed immediately by wails. Heads exploded, brain matter was sent flying, bones shattered, and metallic protections were torn to pieces. Entrails were exposed, and a drizzle of blood stained everything.

For those who perished instantly without time to scream, the situation proved almost merciful.

There were those crawling on the ground, having lost their legs. Others held the organs that were escaping through the openings in their armor. Some cried out for their mothers in agony.

An authentic torrent of blood.

The cavalry, organized in a wedge structure to break the defensive lines of the Black Armor Company, had planted themselves as the ideal target for Dale’s attack.

And when the roar ceased, not a single one of the 2,000 rival soldiers risked taking a step toward the Black Armor Company.

Everything concluded in a blink.

In the time it took for the cavalry to advance a mere few hundred meters, the entire squadron was disintegrated.

It was impossible to call that anything other than mass destruction magic.

“How can this be mass destruction magic…?”

“The Imperial Court reports guaranteed it! The firstborn of the Saxon family possesses only three circles, three!”

“Don’t talk nonsense! How could a three-circle sorcerer cause this?”

That was how it was supposed to be. However, what they were witnessing was a high-ranking mystic executing a spell of mass devastation in the midst of conflict.

A noisy void took over the place. However, the feats of the leader of the Black Armor Company, known as the Black Prince, had not ended. In fact, they were just beginning.

Dale produced a snap with his fingers, pointing toward the shadowy mantle that rippled at his feet.

“Rise, my servants.”

The 20 mm projectiles scattered across the terrain, the shadow bullets, reacted.

“Kieeeek!”

At Dale’s direction, the dark ammunition lodged in the bodies of the riders began to stir. They did not constitute simple metal projectiles. They represented a legion of living shadows charged with wicked intentions.

The living gloom began to corrupt and devour from inside the riders.

The second manifestation of the shadow mantle: Shadow Parasite.

Those who were no longer breathing were blessed. The survivors contorted in torment as their internal organs were consumed.

“Hunger, hunger, hunger!”

“It’s an insatiable appetite!”

The remains of the cavalry, which logically should have been lying inert, stood up emitting monstrous shrieks.

The shadows invaded the remains pierced by the shadow projectiles, grounding themselves in the darkness and transforming them into puppets moved by perpetual voracity.

Dale’s shadow cloak waved in the midst of the static air.

“Even maintaining distance, I control them with quite some precision.”

He contemplated how the multitude of shadow parasites emerged around him.

Without reflecting the slightest feeling, Dale minutely analyzed the reach of his resources.

“Will it be possible to integrate more mystic sequences into this process?”

He sharpened his mental focus to mold the nature and structure of the spell according to his requirement.

Despite the physical separation, he controlled nearly a hundred shadow parasites. Dale poured his will over them once again.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The human remains deformed in a frightening way, emulating a nightmare scene. Not requiring the protection of their vital organs, the ribs reconfigured immediately.

Crack!

Sharp blades made of bone structure sprouted from the extremities of the fallen.

By consolidating a bone covering over their bodies and forcing absolute rigidity in points where mobility was not crucial, he fashioned biological protection instantly.

He did not require giving them individual directions either. The living shadows were already installed in their necks and hearts.

Shadow Parasites. Acting as vessels for these beings, the deceased began to march.

“Hunger, thirst for flesh!”

The battalion of the fallen. Dominated by infinite greed, they desperately sought a victim.

Even if the target turned out to be an ally with whom they shared laughter shortly before, there were no considerations.

Dale’s mass destruction resource had exterminated the cavalry… and the shadow ammunition embedded in their remains transformed into corpse-controlling parasites.

“What will be the limit of my reach with this technique?”

Dale executed mental numerical conversions coldly while observing the situation.

“What level of dominion can I project on the battlefield using them?”

Maintaining himself in the compact formation of the Black Armor Company, focused fully on the mystic aspect. A deployment comparable to the necromancy arts mastered by a patriarch of the Black Tower.

Dale possessed full certainty of this. And the opposing forces at this site represented nothing more than test tools to measure his potential.

Objects of study. The memory of the original gloom of the Red Cult crossed his mind.

“……”

He moved his head to clear the thought. They were in a war scenario. Finish the rival or perish.

Entering a war without assimilating the possibility of death lacked all logic.

Thus, Dale’s spectral servants advanced without hesitation. Although they did not possess the level of the Death Knights, how many ordinary combatants would it take to subdue just one of these creatures?

“Defend the position, prevent the line from breaking!”

“Aaaah, it’s tearing my throat! My throat! Aaaah!”

While evaluating the clash between the living and the returned, Dale coldly cataloged the tactical utility of his servants.

“A returned provided with protection requires the effort of seven soldiers.”

“A returned devoid of protection demands three soldiers.”

“Even so, breaking heavy armor with bone blades proves unfeasible.”

He showed no emotion at all, acting as an analyst recording empirical data. In his role as a mage, he examined his skills and polished them to make the next qualitative leap.

At that precise instant.

“I do not wish to perish…”

“I refuse to die! I don’t want to die!”

“Victory is impossible! We must retreat right now!”

“Make way!”

In the midst of the incessant tide of the returned, another affliction began to spread. The same effect that Dale’s precision weapon had previously propagated.

Panic. The absolute panic of losing one’s life spread like a plague. Despite outnumbering the fallen, the combatants turned to escape.

“Retreat is forbidden!”

“Maintain cohesion! Do not show your back!”

“Any deserter will be executed immediately!”

With courage in the doldrums and the command structure undone, the outcome was inevitable.

The mass flight.

The squad in charge of punishments used their weapons against the fugitives, but the destroyed spirit no longer had salvation. Not even the mercenary groups that had agreed to disintegrate the Black Armor Company represented an exception.

Absolutely everyone began to flee, blinded by the need to preserve their lives.

However, when a complete contingent changes course unexpectedly, chaos takes over the movement… and, because of this, they offered their unprotected backs to the rival.

While the army’s axis faltered and they stumbled amidst the disorder, the returned threw themselves upon them.

From that point on, it ceased to be a battle. It transformed into a unilateral execution.

The Viper mercenaries, the Golden Lion mercenaries, the Brotherhood mercenaries. Their names and past feats lost all value while they escaped terrified.

“From the beginning, they never represented a real danger.”

The two factions that stood as the main columns of the mercenary elite in the Empire…

Landsknecht and Reisläufer chose not to intervene, which constituted a resounding indicator.

Emblems of reliability that did not contemplate retreat until the last breath.

They also analyzed the movements of the Black Armor Company, but the force that Dale had in front of him at that instant did not qualify as a serious threat.

“The triumph is ours.”

Dale declared in a muffled whisper. However, before such a statement, no one dared to utter a single word.

Subjugated by the absolute weight of an entity out of the ordinary, they limited themselves to keeping silent, shocked.

Dale repeated the snap with his fingers. The shadow parasites suspended the aggression toward the fugitives.

They turned their faces in the direction of their master.

Toward the defenses of Hamburg and the heavy infantry block belonging to the Black Armor Company.

The entire group held their breath, observing the silent entities.

“We won, definitely.”

Dale expressed with detachment, and the army of the returned dropped to their knees in perfect synchronization. Only in that instant did the dread vanish from the allied faces.

“We have won!”

A belated clamor of celebration arose.

“Glory to the Black Armor Company!”

“The leader has shattered the enemy forces!”

“That is our commander Dale!”

The thunderous shouts seemed to fracture the atmosphere as the inhabitants of the settlement joined their voices to celebrate Dale’s success.

Scarcely a hundred heavy infantry combatants had subjugated an opposing force that outnumbered them almost twenty times over. And all this derived from a superb faculty capable of altering the destiny of a war on its own.

The glory belonged to them.

Certainly, it meant a milestone for Dale and the Black Armor Company, and the stories regarding the severity and the implacable character of the Black Prince would not take long to replicate in every corner.

In that same period, the British Independence Army began the reconquest of the ancient demarcations of the royal territory with a sweeping advance.

Under the guidance of the Holy Maiden Aurelia, considered the redeemer of her people, they tore down every setback and added multiple triumphs in their campaign.

The emotional state of the rebel factions in opposition to the Empire was at an undecipherable peak.

Shortly after, the Holy Maiden Aurelia validated Charles VII, direct successor of the British royal lineage, as monarch. With the return of the crown, they began maneuvers to definitively expel the Empire’s detachments from the British Isles.

They took control again of fortifications, cities, and imperial lands, formally re-establishing the Kingdom Territory on cartographic representations.

It was the first successful sovereignty recovery process since the Empire consolidated its unification, a feat that no faction had dared to attempt previously.

Soon, reports spread that, shaken by this significant setback, the Empire was coordinating a military mobilization of proportions never seen before.

They understood with total clarity the domino effect that the consolidation of a triumphant independentist insurrection would unleash.