The battle raged across the blood-soaked fields outside the dungeon, but in the eye of the storm, time seemed to hold its breath.
At the heart of the chaos stood two titans—Roderic Lorne, Captain of the Dawnstead Knights, clad in scorched silver and navy-blue armor and stained with ash and blood… and the Minotaur Warlord, a hulking monstrosity of muscle, bone, and miasmic rage.
Nearly four meters tall, its blackened horns curled forward like a crown of death, and its glowing crimson eyes burned with savage intelligence.
Their gazes locked—no words, no taunts, just unspoken understanding.
This would be a battle to the death.
A low rumble rolled through the earth. Then—it charged.
The Warlord's hooves cracked the ground with every thunderous step. Its battle axe—a grotesque slab of metal twice Roderic's size—was raised high, shrieking through the air with enough force to split mountains.
"RRRAAAAAAUGH!!"
Roderic braced himself.
His heartbeat slowed. The world faded into silence.
IMPACT.
The axe came down like divine judgment. But Roderic was already in motion. Flashstep. His body vanished into a blur, wind swirling in his wake. The axe obliterated the ground where he once stood, sending a geyser of rock and fire skyward.
The shockwave flattened nearby trees, scattering flames and debris across the battlefield. Dirt, rocks, and shards of bone exploded outward in all directions. Nearby adventurers were blown back like ragdolls, some tumbling across the field with cries of pain.
The sheer force of the Warlord's charge was enough to crater the earth beneath their feet.
Roderic reappeared behind the beast, boots skidding against shattered stone. His greatsword glowed faintly, humming with restrained energy.
He exhaled once and lunged.
CLANG!
Steel met bone.
His strike hit the Warlord's side—ribs reinforced by bone plating like natural armor. Sparks danced from the clash, illuminating their grim expressions in bursts of gold. The Warlord snarled and spun with surprising agility. Its backhand struck like a boulder.
Roderic blocked with the flat of his greatsword, but the sheer weight behind the blow hurled him backward. He flipped mid-air, slammed his blade into the ground, and dragged to a stop—feet plowing twin furrows in the earth.
His arms trembled. Muscles strained. Every tendon in his body screamed under the pressure. The force wasn't just physical—it was laced with corruption, eating away at his magical defenses. Sparks of golden light clashed violently with tendrils of shadow.
He wiped blood from his lip.
Then, without hesitation—he charged again.
The two titans clashed, again and again.
CLANG! BOOM! CRACK!
Steel met steel, magic met miasma, and every exchange shook the battlefield like thunder rolling through a storm-torn mountain.
The Warlord moved with terrifying speed for its size. Its blows were not wild, but precise, trained, honed through a thousand battles.
Roderic ducked under a sweeping strike—too slow. The axe grazed his shoulder, tearing through plate and flesh. Blood spattered across his cape, and he gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain. He retaliated with a spinning slash imbued with earth magic, aiming for the beast's knee.
THWACK.
The blade connected, cutting deep—but the Warlord didn't even flinch. Instead, it roared, grabbed Roderic's greatsword arm with one clawed hand, and hurled him across the field.
Roderic smashed into a rocky outcrop with bone-breaking force. The impact sent cracks racing through the stone like spiderwebs. Dust rose.
For a moment, he didn't move.
A lesser man would've died. But Roderic was no mere man. His eyes snapped open, burning gold. A pulse of earth magic surged through his limbs, repairing cracked bones and stabilizing his body. He stood—bloody, battered, but unbroken.
The Warlord came again. A blur of rage. It unleashed a feral roar and slammed its axe into the ground—sending a shockwave of miasmic energy directly toward him.
The very earth tore apart in its wake, a black surge of raw destruction barreling toward Roderic like a tsunami.
He raised his hand. "Granite Wall!"
Pillars of stone erupted from the ground, forming a dome around him just in time. The shockwave slammed into it, detonating on contact and sending cracks spidering through the magical barrier.
Light flickered. The wall shattered.
But Roderic was already moving again. He burst from the smoke like a cannonball, his greatsword wrapped in a golden vortex, enhanced by earth magic. He leapt into the air, aiming a devastating overhead strike.
But the Warlord was waiting for him.
With inhuman reflexes, the Warlord intercepted mid-air, slamming the haft of its axe against Roderic's ribs. The captain howled as he was sent flying again, crashing into the ground and skipping across it like a stone on water.
He skidded to a stop, coughing blood, his vision blurred. He was losing.
This monster… it was too strong. Too fast. Too durable. No matter how many wounds he inflicted, the Warlord fought like an unkillable god of war, its miasmic energy healing its injuries faster than they could accumulate.
Roderic forced himself to his feet. His breath was ragged. His armor dented and cracked. His fingers trembled around the hilt of his greatsword.
"I can't…" he muttered. "I can't lose."
He slammed his greatsword into the ground. A radiant light burst from the impact, golden runes spiraling outward in all directions. The ground beneath him glowed, and his body lifted slightly from the earth. The ambient mana around him shuddered, responding to the call of his soul.
"Knight's Vow. Final Gate—Astral Resonance."
Golden flames erupted from his body, swirling around him like a divine inferno. His blade ignited with celestial light, humming with ancient power—power drawn not from raw strength, but from every oath he had sworn. Every comrade he had fought beside. Every soul he had protected.
The Warlord roared in fury—and charged.
But this time, Roderic didn't brace. He vanished in a blur of light. Appearing just behind the Warlord, his blade was already mid-swing.
SLASH!
A glowing arc tore across the Warlord's back, splashing blood and sparks into the air. The beast snarled, spun, and countered—only for Roderic to leap over the retaliatory blow, spin mid-air, and bring his greatsword crashing down onto the Warlord's shoulder.
CLANG!!
The strike dented armor, cleaved flesh—but still, it wasn't enough.
The Warlord grabbed Roderic's leg mid-air and slammed him into the ground.
Once. Twice.
A third time.
The earth broke beneath the force.
Roderic grunted in pain, barely raising a barrier before the next blow came. But he wasn't done. With a desperate roar, he channeled his magic inward, focusing everything into a single, final technique.
He burst free from the Warlord grip in a golden explosion and soared into the sky. His greatsword rose high above his head, gathering power.
"I won't let you win!"
He descended like a comet. A shining meteor.
The Warlord raised its axe for one final, all-consuming swing. And the two collided.
A moment frozen in time.
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
A towering explosion of golden light engulfed the battlefield. A pillar of radiance shot into the heavens, splitting the clouds apart. The shockwave tore through the valley, sending waves of dust and energy surging in all directions.
When the light faded—the Warlord stood still. Its axe dropped with a metallic clang. A thin, glowing line split its chest from shoulder to hip. No blood. Just silence.
Then—its body erupted into golden embers, disintegrating as it fell forward, crumbling into a burning crater.
Silence fell. Only the distant sounds of battle remained, as if muffled by the aftermath of a god's wrath.
Roderic stood at the center, his armor cracked, his blade chipped, but his back straight. He exhaled a long, steady breath, letting the golden light fade into flickering sparks.
Around him, his soldiers had frozen, watching in awe.
"Captain Roderic!!"
The cry sparked a rally. A wave of hope surged through the battlefield as the knights and adventurers roared to life, pressing their assault with renewed strength.
Fire mages ignited the skies, archers loosed volleys with precision, and swordsmen carved through the enemy lines like a tide of vengeance.
And at the front—Roderic lifted his greatsword once more. His eyes focused. He turned to his men, his voice strong, unwavering. "We're not done yet. Hold the line! Drive the rest of them back!"
His voice echoed like thunder, rolling across the broken battlefield like a divine call to arms.
For a heartbeat, time seemed to hold its breath.
Knights and adventurers turned toward the sound. Bloodied, bruised, battered—they lifted their gazes from the dirt, their weapons trembling in weary hands. Through the smoke and fire, through the haze of exhaustion and death, they saw him.
Roderic Lorne.
He looked like a war god incarnate.
And in that moment, even the monsters paused.
It started with a single step. Then another. He broke into a run. Sparks lit the air as the wind howled past him. Each stride carved a crater in the dirt beneath his boots. Magic flared violently across his frame, golden arcs snapping and sparking like thunder made manifest. He became a comet of divine fury.
"FOR DAWNSTEAD!!!"
The roar tore from his throat like a battle horn, and it set the battlefield ablaze.
The ranks behind him moved. Knights screamed as they pushed forward. Adventurers rallied from the ground. Even the wounded found the strength to stand, clutching weapons with white-knuckled grips.
It began as a spark. Then it became a storm.
Roderic leapt from the crater's edge—and descended upon the horde like judgment itself. The ground quaked beneath his landing.
The monsters surged to meet him. Goblins shrieking with jagged blades, direfang wolves bounding on all fours, hulking ogres with maces the size of trees. They threw themselves forward with feral rage.
It didn't matter. Roderic cut them down like wheat before a flaming scythe. His greatsword cleaved through flesh and steel alike, arcs of golden light trailing each swing like celestial afterimages.
Every strike cracked the air like lightning—rending armor, splitting hide, igniting monster blood into trails of flame.
A manticore dove from above, jaws open, tail arched back—its venomous stinger gleaming in the firelight.
CLANG—CRASH!
Roderic caught the stinger mid-air with the flat of his blade and twisted, ripping the creature off-course before plunging his greatsword through its skull in one fluid, brutal motion.
Another wave came—dozens more. Too many to count.
"Stay behind me!" he bellowed, catching sight of a cluster of exhausted adventurers just regaining their footing. "I'll carve the path! Just keep moving forward!"
Above, a wyvern screeched and dove—its massive wings blotting out the flames below. Its scales shimmered black, its mouth glowing with cursed fire.
Roderic didn't look up. "Not today."
He stabbed his greatsword into the ground and flung his hand skyward.
"Skybreaker!"
A stone pillar exploded from beneath the wyvern like a divine lance, impaling the beast through the gut and launching it skyward. The wyvern screeched in agony before crashing into its own ranks like a falling star—crushing a dozen monsters beneath its twitching carcass.
Roderic ripped his blade free and charged forward once more.
"Push!" Roderic screamed. "Don't let them recover! Break them! Break them all!"
He reached the final blockade—a corrupted siege beast, twisted and towering, dragging chains behind it, limbs like tree trunks, a maw of gnashing teeth. It stood like a wall—like the final trial.
Roderic didn't hesitate. He leapt. A golden flare surged through his body, the last of his mana compressing into a single, perfect point.
The battlefield went still.
For a moment, all that existed was the golden light forming around his blade.
"Devastation Cross."
He slashed.
Once. Twice.
Twin arcs of radiant energy crossed through the air in an X, striking the beast's chest.
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
An explosion like a miniature sun swallowed the creature whole. Flames spiraled upward as if the heavens themselves had cracked open, and the beast was torn apart from the inside out—chunks of charred flesh and molten bone hurled across the battlefield. The shockwave flattened the nearby monsters.
Then, silence. Only the crackle of fire and the ragged breaths of those still standing.
Roderic landed in a crater of molten earth, his armor blackened, his knees buckling. For a moment, he faltered. His bones ached. Mana reserves were nearly dry. Blood dripped from his fingers.
But even then—he stood.
Slowly. Painfully.
One foot. Then the other. He raised his greatsword again. The flames around him reignited.
"We… don't stop here." His voice was low, gravel-throated. "We end it. All of it."
End of Chapter 58