Chapter 485 ·Evil God (惡神) (2)

A ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍few days later, up on the battlements of Andkhoy.

Il-mok ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍squinted into the distance, pushing Qi into his eyes to pierce the horizon.

What ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍he saw was a massive army approaching in the distance, raising clouds of sand in its wake.

Seventy ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍thousand troops were a staggering force, yet Il-mok found himself letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

"At ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍least they didn't head for the bridge."

Losing ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍the bridge after spending days pushing his men to their limits to build it would have been a bitter pill to swallow. He had even recalled the garrison at the bridge to consolidate their forces, meaning a single enemy detachment could have destroyed it uncontested.

But it was a gamble he had to take.

Their numbers were already stretched dangerously thin, and trying to hold both the bridge and the fortress would have just been a disaster in the making.

Fortunately, whether out of sheer overconfidence or simple impatience, the enemy hadn't bothered sending a detachment toward the Amu River and marched straight to Andkhoy.

Jeong Hyeon and a squad scouting unit had already double-checked and confirmed the enemy’s tunnel vision.

"So they really are that confident," Il-mok murmured with a quiet chuckle.

His amusement didn't just stem from pride in his own martial skill. He turned his eyes away from the approaching army and looked down the line of men stationed along the walls.

Though an army nearly twice their size was bearing down on them, not a single trace of fear showed in the soldiers' eyes. If anything, their gazes burned with an unhinged fervor.

“If this is a contest of confidence, then we won’t be outdone.”

But not everyone was brimming with confidence.

Down beneath Andkhoy's walls, the local soldiers who had originally been responsible for defending Andkhoy were filled with panic.

And it wasn't just them.

Once you looked past Andkhoy’s defensive perimeter, you could feel the anxiety permeating from the residence of the city itself.

Maybe the Hong Dynasty troops picked up on the locals' terror, or maybe their battle-crazed blood was just boiling over like it always did before a fight.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

One of the Hong Dynasty’s drummers began pounding the drums like a madman.

Matching the rhythm, his fellow soldiers stamped their feet and struck their spears against the ground as they shouted at the tops of their lungs.

They called this ear-splitting racket a ‘hymn.’ 

It was a chaotic jumble of mismatched pitches and screams, but the sound spread far beyond the walls of Andkhoy.

Meanwhile.

Meanwhile, Amir Zayd was marching his seventy thousand troops straight toward Andkhoy.

Being a martial master himself, his finely-tuned ears caught the bizarre music bleeding out from the fortress long before anyone else.

Listening to that unhinged chorus of clashing notes, Zayd’s scarred face twisted in revulsion.

"As expected of a nation that serves an Evil God. It seems every last one of them has lost their minds."

The generals around him burst into laughter.

“Hahahaha! We'll send those dirty infidels and their false god straight to hell!"

“Even the demons of hell would lose their tempers after hearing that vile song. They would probably start lashing them with whips of flame.”

After marching for some time while trash-talking their opponents, they finally ground to a halt about five hundred meters from Andkhoy. 

It was a calculated distance just barely beyond the effective range of weapons such as arrows and cannons.

While the Khalas army rested there for a short time, the walls of Andkhoy continued to resound with the pounding of drums and the deafening words of their hymns.

“Form your ranks!”

Seeing no reason to drag things out, Zayd issued his orders and his troops moved in perfect order at once.

They were battle-hardened veterans of countless campaigns, fanning out smoothly until they had encircled three sides of the city.

Once their lines were fully assembled, the soldiers knelt and began to pray.

They were preparing for the Holy War that would soon begin.

Hymns continued to ring out from the walls of Andkhoy, while the imperial soldiers outside knelt as one and offered their prayers.

Watching each other’s strange behavior, Il-mok and Zayd arrived at nearly identical thoughts at the same time.

‘Those damned nutjobs.’

***

Meanwhile, inside Andkhoy.

The residents who had always lived there huddled in their homes from fear.

They had endured multiple sieges since the outbreak of the war, but terror was not something a person ever grew used to.

They feared for their family and friends fighting on the battlements.

They dreaded the moment the walls collapsed and the imperial army flooded in to slaughter them.

Even with the arrival of these mysterious reinforcements, that terror hadn't faded in the slightest.

The same was true for a woman named Sadif.

She was trembling with fear, clutching her still-young daughter and praying to Allah, when the sound of drums and shouts began to echo repeatedly from the walls outside.

She knew that song. 

The strange foreigners had sung it when they first arrived and continued singing it throughout their stay.

But hearing it did not bring Sadif any sense of peace.

The language was incomprehensible to her, and the madness of people preparing for war only set her nerves further on edge.

Just then.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

A voice drifted through the door.

The voice was so peaceful that it seemed wholly unsuited to someone standing on the eve of war.

Sadif stroked her frightened daughter’s head, then cautiously walked toward the door.

With her hijab wrapped around her head, she cracked it open just a sliver, only to find a very distinct foreigner standing outside.

She recognized him.

Out of the tens of thousands of strange soldiers who had occupied their city, this man here stuck out like a sore thumb due to how unusual he looked.

He didn’t look anything like the soldiers from the Hong Dynasty with his pale features and colored eyes; rather, he looked like a foreigner from the west.

His name was James.

“Ahem. I’m sorry for dropping by so suddenly. I only came to tell you that there’s no need to be so frightened.”

James smiled warmly and held out a piece of jerky for her. “You’ll get hungry just sitting around waiting for the battle to end, so please have some of this while you wait.”

James hadn't decided to do this on his own whim.

In fact, a few Hong Dynasty soldiers were standing guard right behind him. 

It was Il-mok’s order.

Since the whole city was practically choking on panic, Il-mok had dispatched James and Ohalak to do some much-needed crowd control and keep the locals from losing their minds.

Looking down at the terrified woman, James couldn't help but sigh internally.

‘If only she could witness his Light just once, all her fear would vanish in an instant. What a pity.’

When the Grand Preceptor first arrived in Andkhok, he had put on a terrifying display of his divine arts. But unfortunately, the residents hiding inside the walls had not been able to witness it.

James would have loved to drag them outside and show them that spectacle even now, but it was impossible.

‘If only the walls were a bit bigger.’

Andkhoy was not a major city, so its walls were not especially large either.

‘Ah well. I suppose that’s why Ohalak and I are stuck doing this.’

You couldn't fit forty thousand men onto those ramparts if you tried. In truth, fitting even ten thousand was pushing it. As a result, thirty thousand soldiers remained stationed below while James and Ohalak led the rest on patrol through the city.

Maybe it was James’s peaceful tone, or maybe it was how fluent he was with her language; the knot of terror in Sadif's chest finally loosened. 

She gave a faint smile and accepted the jerky.

"You speak our language so well."

“Hahaha. I happen to have something of a talent for languages.”

Sadif looked back and forth between James’s relaxed face and the jerky in her hand before asking, “Aren’t you afraid?”

James smiled.

“I used to be. But not anymore.”

“You must be used to war by now."

James shook his head. "War still scares me. It’s just…”

He trailed off and turned his head toward something in the distance.

Sadif followed his gaze.

“As long as the Grand Preceptor is guarding that place, not a single enemy will be able to get over those walls. I know that very well now.”

After gazing at the walls with Sadif for a moment, James spoke again.

“Well, I should move along, so I’ll be on my way. Please rest easy.”

With a farewell that felt wildly out of place on the eve of battle, James turned and walked away.

He spent the next few hours making his rounds through Andkhoy, talking with the townspeople and handing out small rations of food as a gesture of goodwill.

Then James’s head turned toward the walls once more.

Perhaps it was because he had experienced war several times himself.

He could sense it instinctively.

"It's starting."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the cries of the fanatics rose from beyond the walls.

“Allahu! Akbar!!”

Accompanied by a slogan that was now beginning to feel tiresome, the enemy soldiers charged toward the walls with roughly five thousand troops advancing from each of the three sides.

Yet for some reason, Il-mok did not immediately drop the World-Destroying Primordial Jade Palm.

He had another target in mind.

Although the usual beam of destruction did make an appearance, the fanatics of the Hong Dynasty showed no fear.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Once the fanatics of Allah reached a certain proximity, the rhythm of the drums changed.

Matching that new rhythm, the Hong Dynasty’s archers all fired their arrows into the air.

Swosh!!

A rain of hundreds of arrows arced through the sky, plunging into the charging masses below.

Refusing to take that lying down, the enemy artillery in the backlines roared to life.

Boom! Boom!!

Deafening explosions rocked the plains as massive iron cannonballs came screaming through the air straight for the walls.

If they were left alone, the walls they had only just repaired would be brought down once again.

Il-mok waited until the iron balls had drawn close to the walls, then launched himself toward them.

Slicing the iron balls in half would have been simple enough, but the severed metals would still retain their momentum and smash into the battlements.

Instead, he used the Ascension Sword to form a net of Sword Force that caught the massive iron spheres and then used the principle of redirection to twist their trajectories away from their original direction.

Boom!!

Instead of slamming into the stone, the cannonballs took a nosedive straight down into the densely packed enemy vanguard. The soldiers caught underneath were instantly flattened, crushed so suddenly they didn't even have time to scream.

As Il-mok finished rotating the iron balls, his own body began to fall toward the heads of the enemy soldiers below. But with a light application of Sky Walk, he stepped through the air and returned safely to the walls.

While Il-mok held the front wall, Jin Hayeon put on a similar display along the left flank.

She condensed the Yin Qi of the White Hand Demonic Art to summon powerful ice walls.

Like her husband, she spent most of her time dancing in the sky. But in her case, every time her foot touched empty air, a solid ice plate would materialize beneath her boots to bear her weight.

It was a uniquely beautiful variant on the traditional Sky Walk.

While the husband and wife blocked the cannon fire approaching from the front and left, several people on the right combined their strength to intercept the artillery.

“As decreed by the laws!”

A small number of sorcerers from the Eight Trigrams Hall had been brought along in case of emergencies and they performed their duty diligently.

“Haaah!”

Backing them up were the heavy hitters like Hyeokryeon Seon-ah and Jong-ri Chu.

As he watched his enemy’s resistance, Zayd stroked his chin and muttered, “Hm. Who would've thought these cultist freaks had two Muharib Azim in their ranks? Guess Harun didn't just die because he was a blundering idiot after all."

His expression showed clear interest.

The distance made it difficult to judge their exact level, but there was no doubt that the man and woman rampaging at the front and on the left had reached the realm known as a Muharib Azim.

But Zayd was not particularly afraid.

He himself had long since attained the realm known as a Muharib Azim.

He knew full well that while the world viewed it as a divine blessing, the strength of the warrior who reached that realm varied greatly from person to person.

Zayd did not believe himself inferior to either of them.

The fact that there were two of them instead of one was a problem, but even that was no cause for fear.

One of his lieutenants had also received God’s grace during the previous holy war that restored order to the empire and ascended to the rank of Muharib Azim himself.

“Patience, Hassan. Since those two are Great Warriors as well, they won't drop dead before the walls fall."

Zayd reined in the lieutenant whose eyes had kindled with the fire of competition.

Truth be told, Zayd wanted to test himself against them as well, but it's not time yet.

He was an Amir before he was a warrior.

Leading the army to victory came first.

‘Rampaging like that will drain their Aether in no time. The end might prove a bit underwhelming.’

With that thought, a hungry smirk touched Zayd's lips.