Chapter 172: A Pall Over the Battlefield
Serie's magic was a merciless storm, and it swept through the chaotic horde of monsters again and again.
And, as if on cue, the moment she appeared on the battlefield, the once-organized demon army, as if it had lost its commander, fell into a complete disarray. They no longer attacked the city walls in a coordinated assault, but in a blind, instinctive rage.
And for their troubles, they were met with an even more ferocious barrage of magic.
The demons, now without their commanders' control, and already in a state of panic from the constant and instantaneous deaths of their comrades, finally broke. They no longer charged the walls, but fled in all directions, their only thought to escape the small, death-dealing figure in the sky.
In their haste, they trampled each other underfoot, and even the flying monsters in the sky had long since vanished.
The battle, under her overwhelming power, had ended as suddenly and as comically as it had begun. The dwarven defenders, having recovered from their initial shock, let out a thunderous roar and, with the support of her magic, began to hunt down the fleeing monsters.
From his vantage point on the mountain, Rhodes surveyed the battlefield, his gaze sweeping over the distant horizon.
He had not joined the fight, not because he couldn't, but because he was casting a different kind of spell, an invisible web of his own mana, searching for the powerful demonic aura of a commander. He had felt it, just for a moment, as she had been unleashing her own storm, a faint and fleeting presence, a feeling of being watched, a feeling that was gone as soon as it had appeared. But he knew it was not his imagination. A demon had been watching them. He had tried to trace it, but the trail was too faint, lost in the chaos of the battle. It was likely that even the one who had been watching could not see the battle clearly, perhaps not even their own location.
"Nothing," he murmured. It didn't make any sense. An army of this size... it had to have a commander, perhaps even a great demon. And for that commander to just stand by and watch his army be annihilated, to not even try to intervene, to launch a single counter-attack... was it a sign of extreme caution, or... something else?
He looked to the west, and Ela's message about the conflict between the human kingdoms came to mind. Shurahat... The demon who had escaped two hundred years ago... with his cunning, he would have surely not just given up. To so easily abandon this army... it felt like a feint, a diversion to cover a much larger conspiracy. But he couldn't be sure. The situation with the dwarves had seemed much more dire. The humans had just been in a state of 'conflict', with no actual fighting. The dwarves, on the other hand, had been on the verge of being overrun. But the very obviousness of it all... it made him suspicious.
The battle below was coming to an end.
When the last of the resisting monsters was turned to dust by a single, casual light arrow from her, there was not a single trace of a demon left outside the city of Weiburg. The dwarves' cheers of victory echoed through the mountains, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy, a sound of a deep and profound reverence for the goddess-like mage who had descended upon them.
But she, for her part, was completely indifferent to their adulation. In a few flashes of light, she was back on the mountaintop, standing before him and Flamme.
She stood for a moment, her breathing still a little ragged, and the suffocating pressure of her magical aura slowly began to recede. The hem of her white robe and her cuffs were stained with a dark red blood, not her own, but the blood of the monsters. There was not a single sign of fatigue on her face, only a slight pallor from the expenditure of her mana.
She walked straight to him, ignoring the girl who was sitting to the side. "It's over. What now?" she asked, her voice a calm and level sound, as if the earth-shattering battle she had just single-handedly won had been a trivial matter.
"You've done well," he said, and turned his gaze from the west to her. "But even though the army has been routed, we can't be sure they won't be back. To be safe, we should stay in the city for a while. We can gather more information, see if we can find any clues about the demons. And we can make sure the city is secure, at least for the time being. They'll need time to rebuild their defenses, after all."
She just gave a slight nod. "As you wish."
When they returned to the city, a contingent of dwarven soldiers was already waiting for them. They had been afraid that the powerful mage would just leave, without even giving them a chance to express their thanks. But she had come back.
In the center of the soldiers, a dwarf, though short, was incredibly stocky and powerfully built. He wore heavy armor and held a massive, blood-stained warhammer in his hand. He was clearly the city's lord.
He walked up to them, his gaze first falling on her. The stark contrast between her small, delicate frame and the destructive power she had just unleashed... it was a sight to behold, even for a seasoned warrior like himself. He took a deep breath and, with his right hand, he struck his own armored chest in the highest of dwarven salutes.
"Honored and powerful mage! I am Balin, the guardian of Weiburg," he said, his voice filled with a deep gratitude. "On behalf of all the dwarves of this city, I offer you our deepest thanks. If not for your timely intervention, our city would have surely been overrun. We will be forever in your debt."
His words were sincere, and the dwarven warriors behind him also gave a salute, a silent expression of their own respect.
She, however, was unmoved by their grand gesture. She just gave a slight nod in return.
Balin, seeing her indifference, was not in the least bit offended. Mages were always a bit strange. His gaze then moved to the man beside her, and the young girl who was now sitting on a rock. He noticed her pale, exhausted face, and the lingering aura of magic about her. It must have been she who had dealt with the flying monsters.
"And you, honored guests," he said, turning to them and giving another solemn salute, "thank you for your help. And this young lady... you must be the one who dealt with those damned flying creatures. An incredible display of magical power."
The man... he hadn't seen him fight. But to be standing beside such a terrifyingly powerful mage... he could not be an ordinary person.
"You are too kind, Lord Balin," Rhodes said with a smile, and then, with an encouraging look at the girl, "This is Flamme."
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