Chapter 606 - 522: Moonlit "Feast

Chapter 606: Chapter 522: Moonlit "Feast

It also served as a meager buffer against the pursuing Heartstealer.

However, this defensive line, which appeared quite sturdy before the brawling crowd, was riddled with openings in Roland’s eyes.

His pace didn’t slow in the slightest; if anything, he grew even faster.

Behind him were Holland’s ragged breaths and Ellis’s stifled gasp, along with the ever-nearing, heart-pounding hum of Spiritual Energy that seemed to emanate from the depths of the earth.

Ahead lay the cold glint of Long Spear tips and the glow of Magic, and the suddenly constricting pupils of the Guards as he rapidly closed in.

Just as the front-rank Shield Guards roared, thrusting their Long Spears through the gaps in their Shields with all their might, and the Casters behind them began Casting their Magic...

Roland moved.

His charging figure suddenly blurred. He didn’t disappear, but rather, in a motion that defied all logic, executed several minute yet utterly precise shifts within the span of inches.

The thrusting Long Spears grazed the edge of his clothing.

The shriek of Magic tearing through the air screamed past his ear, slamming into the rock wall behind him.

And he, like an incorporeal Ghost, had already slipped through the deadly gaps formed by the Long Spears and Magic, arriving right before the Shield wall.

His left hand, still gripping the sheathed Dagger, tapped forward lightly.

"THUD!"

A low boom, like a beaten drum, echoed out.

The Shield he had touched, along with the burly man gritting his teeth behind it, flew back as if struck head-on by a charging rhinoceros.

He let out a muffled grunt, his feet leaving the ground as he was thrown backward, crashing hard into his comrades behind him and triggering a wave of Chaos.

A gap instantly tore open in the solid Shield wall.

Roland’s figure flashed through the opening.

His right hand formed a blade, five fingers pressed together, and chopped down with lightning speed on the side of a Caster’s neck.

The Caster went down without a sound, collapsing in a heap.

A skirmisher to his left roared and swung his blade, its edge glinting fiercely.

Roland didn’t even glance at him. He simply raised his left hand, parrying the attack with the Dagger’s sheath and, following the motion, drove the pommel of the sheath hard into his opponent’s stomach.

The skirmisher’s eyes bulged. He collapsed, doubling over like a shrimp.

Scarface, their leader, reacted quickest. Seeing things were going south, he bellowed and swung his flail, its heavy head whistling through the air.

Roland sidestepped, the flail grazing his chest.

The instant the hammer passed him, his left hand shot out, precisely grabbing the chain. With a sharp tug, he pulled it toward himself.

Scarface felt an irresistible force and was involuntarily yanked forward.

He was met with the heavy impact of Roland’s rising knee.

"SPLAT!"

Blood sprayed from the leader’s face. His burly frame was thrown backward like a ragdoll, knocking over another Guard armed with a Long Spear.

The remaining Guards finally descended into total chaos.

Their formation was broken, their leader was down. Faced with this man who had sliced into their ranks like a phantom, dismantling their every defense with casual ease, what little courage they had left quickly crumbled.

Some tried to retreat, others swung their weapons in desperation, but to Roland, their movements were laughably slow.

He didn’t pause, nor did he kill unnecessarily.

He simply walked past them as if taking a leisurely stroll.

A knife-hand, an elbow, a knee, even a light tap from a snatched weapon...

Every seemingly casual touch was met with a Guard’s pained grunt or cry, followed by the thud of a dropped weapon and a falling body.

In the space of a few breaths.

The last Guard left standing stared at the young, dark-haired man’s face—serene, untroubled, and not even stained by a single drop of blood—and finally lost all will to resist.

The Longsword in his hand fell to the ground with a CLANG, and he staggered back before collapsing.

The defensive line of more than a dozen elite Guards had utterly collapsed.

"Stay close!"

Holland’s urgent voice rang out from not far behind.

Roland turned, his gaze piercing through the drifting dust and flickering torch embers.

He saw Holland carrying the groggy Ogre on one shoulder, his other hand gripping Ellis’s arm tightly. They were trying to pass through the gap Roland had violently torn in the defensive line.

Beyond the gap, however, the Chaos had not subsided.

The brawlers who had been stunned or knocked back were at first horrified to see the dozen elite Guards routed in an instant. But then, a more primitive survival instinct took over.

With the exit so close and the greatest obstacle apparently removed, the crowd surged toward the narrow opening like a bursting dam, even more frenzied than before.

Holland and his two companions were immediately swallowed by the surging tide of people, pushed and shoved from all sides. Though only a dozen paces from Roland, they were cut off by a chaotic wall of bodies and flailing weapons, unable to get any closer.

Ellis’s face was deathly pale as she struggled to maintain her faltering Arcane Shield, which buckled against the accidental blows and collisions from all sides.

Holland roared, using his Shield and his own body to hold their ground, but it was like trying to swim upstream; they could barely move an inch.

’There’s no more time to waste.’

From deep within the passage, that bone-chilling hum of Spiritual Energy seemed closer still.

Deep within Roland’s black irises, a point of liquid gold suddenly flared. Like a drop of molten gold hitting water, it rapidly bloomed outward, transforming his eyes into imperious, inhuman, vertical slits of gold.

There was no deafening roar, no dragon wings to blot out the sky.

But in the very instant that pair of golden, slitted eyes fully appeared...

An invisible, intangible pressure, yet as heavy as a mountain, erupted from Roland, spreading out in all directions.

It wasn’t a mere Spiritual Shock, but something more fundamental: an oppressive weight stemming from a higher order of life, a superior plane of existence.

The very air seemed to thicken and congeal in an instant.

All the clamor that filled their ears.