“Are you sure about this, General?” An extremely tall, dark-skinned warrior of the ninth rank holding a lance in one hand and a full body shield in the other asked as he stood in front of the rest of the Rohault Army facing the direction of the O’Brien Empire with a pensive expression. “Trusting such an important task to a bunch of kids…”
“Don’t worry so much, Regis,” Murciel replied to his right-hand man, Colonel Regis. “Those aren’t your ordinairy kids. If anyone can succeed at this, it’s them.”
Regis didn’t respond, but it was clear from the look on his face that he was still sceptical.
After Ace and the others took off, the General moved swiftly in commanding his subordinates to ready the troops, and due to their professionalism, even though no one understood why nor what exactly was going on, it only took ten minutes for everyone to form up ready for battle.
That was when the general gave his colonels, all of whom were ordinairy warriors of the ninth rank, a brief on what was happening.
Though they were all shocked and angered by the news of their enemies managing to sneak their spies into their rank, due to the prestige of the general, no one doubted the veracity of his words for even a moment.
Due to the nature of their identity, Murciel left out the details about whom exactly the trio going to drop the bombs were, only telling them that they were specialists sent by the emperor himself, but Colonel Regis was different.
As the General’s oldest friend and right-hand man, Regis already knew that the people being sent by the emperor were precisely his daughter and her classmates.
As sceptical as he was, though, all he could do was bury his doubts and stand beside his good friend, psychologically preparing himself to react to any unforeseen circumstances that may arise, but that was when three giant explosions went off in the distance.
“THIS IS IT, MEN!” General Murciel roared as he began to charge forward. “LET’S CREATE A RIVER OF OUR ENEMY’S BLOOD!”
A few kilometres in the distance, the O’Brien Army, who had been waiting in anticipation, suddenly had their ranks thrown into disarray.
“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!” A warrior of the ninth rank who appeared to be the leader of the O’Brien’s forces roared when the bombs sounded.
This man was General Lyrin of the O’Brien Empire. He was General Murciel’s opposing counterpart and long-standing rival.
He, along with his subordinates, had been patiently waiting in position for over an hour for the battle to begin. After a great deal of planning, he had been desperately anticipating seeing the look of shock, horror, and unwillingness on his rival’s face when he realised what was happening.
Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that even with all their planning, not only would their enemies foil their plans but also use it on them. Alas, the moment he heard the distant war cries of that all too familiar-sounding voice, he understood that, somehow, that was precisely what had happened.
Fortunately, like his rival, he too had a wealth of experience, having basically grown up on the battlefield. As such, despite the panic of his subordinates, he was able to remain calm and rally his uninjured troops to march into battle to meet the incoming enemy.
“LYRIN, HAHAHA,” General Murciel roared with laughter as he finally saw his rival running towards him in the distance. “HOW DO YOU LIKE MY SURPRISE?!”
“MUURRCCIELLL!” Lyrin bellowed furiously, not bothering with the small talk as he suddenly sped up.
He knew that this was a horrendous failure, the type of failure it was hard to come back from, even at his level. The only way he would be able to have any hope of recovering from this embarrassing excuse of an operation would be if he were able to return with the head of General Murciel.
As his counterpart, Murciel obviously knew this too, which was why he was anything but shocked when he saw Lyrin all but ignore the flurry of spells he had fired to recklessly close the distance between them.
Unfortunately for Lyrin, they had been equal for as long as either of them could remember. Just because Lyrin was desperate to kill his rival, it didn’t mean he would be able to all of a sudden be strong enough to do it.
In fact, with Lyrin’s rage essentially clouding his judgement, Murciel, who was by far the calmer of the two, was able to slowly but surely dominate their intense battle.
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In the skies, Ace and his team were hopping in the sky, looking down at the merciless battle taking part below.
As talented and strong as they were, this was a first for both Mira and Kil. They had seen death and even killed before but never had they seen it on such a large scale, and both could only stare in shock.
Though the battles between the higher-ranking combatants seemed to be fairly close, with each of them turning into a one vs one due to no one else being able to get near without being swept up in the aftermath, the battle between the lower ranks was basically a free for all.
The only positive was that after dropping the bombs, not only had the O’Brien army’s numbers dropped substantially, so too had their morale. As such, the Rohault army was able to dominate in a fashion they had never before.
They were still losing soldiers, but for every soldier they lost, five of their enemies would be cut down, never to breathe again.
Whilst Amira and Killian were looking down blankly at the battlefield, trying to process the cruelties of war, Ace had his mind elsewhere.
“What do you think, Leo?” Ace asked suddenly, turning his head towards his beast partner, a fiendish grin suffusing his lips. “You up for causing a little more damage?”
An excited roar escaped Leonel’s mouth as he understood what Ace was asking.
Both Mira and Killian looked at Ace and Leo in confusion until they saw Ace raise his palm in the air in front of him and press down.
“Divine Descent!” Ace voiced.
Leonel acted at the exact same time as he raised his paw and pressed down. And at the same time, a giant paw and palm print made of crimson flames formed in the sky above the rear of the O’Brien Army.
The O’Brien soldiers barely had time to react before yet another surprise attack once again caught them off guard.
As previously mentioned, Ace was able to share his insights with Leonel after the mutation of their spiritual link, but that worked both ways, allowing Leo to share his insights and comprehension with Ace.
As Ace’s comprehension was far superior to his beast partner’s, there wasn’t much for Leonel to share. However, that all changed after Leo finally managed to comprehend a trace amount of the Profound Mystery of the Essence of Fire.
As it was the same mystery as his father, Carter – the saint-level Bloody Eyed Mane Lion – Carter was able to teach him his signature technique – Divine Descent.
Comprehension of the essence of fire allowed one to manipulate the shape and size of their flames. So Carter created a technique that allowed him to form a giant pawprint of fire to strike down on his enemies.
As Leo’s comprehension of the Profound Mystery of the Essence of Fire couldn’t even be mentioned in the same breath as his father’s, it was beyond hard for the Divine Beast to learn.
It took a week for Leo to just create an incredibly small flaming pawprint, and even then, it could barely be called a ‘paw’ as the shape of it was distorted, but that was enough for Ace to learn the basics of the technique.
Unlike Leo, Ace’s insights into the Profound Mystery of the Essence of Fire was incredibly high, far higher than even Carter’s. In fact, according to Aiden, Ace was at the level of an above average peak saint.
As such, whilst Leo struggled to comprehend his father’s technique, with Leo’s insight into the specifics of the technique as a reference, Ace was able to master it almost instantly, which in turn allowed Leo to master the technique during their journey from the Pavilion to the Rohault Empire.
If Carter could see the level his son had reached in just a few short weeks, he would undoubtedly be left speechless. This technique was his greatest creation and was even more complicated than most forbidden spells. But, unfortunately, that particular surprise would have to wait until they returned to the pavilion.
With two giant palm prints falling on his subordinates, it was impossible for General Lyrin not to notice.
It was actually those two attacks that managed to wake him up from his reckless, wrath-filled state. Not because they were particularly strong; in fact, the paw print only had the power of a seventh-rank spell, and the hand print had the power of a spell at the eighth rank.
What caught him by surprise was that as someone who had comprehended ‘impose’, he could clearly sense that both attacks were infused with the power of the laws of nature.
“MURCIEL!” Lyrin roared furiously. “You Rohault scum actually invited a saint to do battle?”
Lyrin wasn’t the only one in shock by those two attacks. As a mage at the peak of the ninth rank who was desperate to become a saint himself, how could General Murciel not sense the infusion of the laws of fire in both attacks, but as someone who’d personally met both Ace and Leonel, he was instantly able to sense that it was formed from their energy, even if due to their shadow robes he couldn’t actually sense them.
“Saint?” Murciel asked back whilst successfully suppressing his shock. “You honestly think that if a saint were to attack, their attack would be so weak?”
Though his instinctive guess was that the Rohault Empire had broken the unspoken rule and had a saint-level powerhouse take part in the battle, especially as he was unable to sense the presence of the attacker, he had to admit his rival was right.
The casual strike of a saint would be able to decimate the whole of their army, himself included. But that made it even more difficult to believe as it meant that there was a mortal whose comprehension had reached the realms of a saint, and as the strongest of the strike was only at the eighth rank, the individual who cast the spell had to be at most at the seventh, potentially sixth rank.
Despite all his experience, Lyrin had never met or even heard of anyone with such talent, including the disciples of the War God. In fact, the only person he could think of that might have had talent on that level was the War God himself.
“Tch!” Lyrin snorted unwillingly as he distanced himself from Murciel. “RETREAT!”
As soon as they heard their general’s order, the O’Brien soldiers began to use their well-practised tactics to retreat whilst losing as few of their own as possible.
Having never experienced a victory of this level, many of the Rohault soldiers wanted to give chase and slaughter more of their enemies, but the qi-filled shout of their own general forced them to halt in their tracks.
“DON’T CHASE!” General Murciel commanded. “ALL UNINJURED ARE TO CARRY THE WOUNDED AND DECEASED BACK TO CAMP FOR A FULL RE-ORG!”