Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 270 - 248: Regrouping the Army (Editor’s Task: 1/6)

All the pathways in Lokarot were filled with a golden surge, as Guardians gathered outside the city gates like droplets in a river, at the forefront of darkness. They jumped from the high walls, the few hundred pounds of their "iron can" armors smashing onto the ground as if nothing were amiss. They descended like dumplings, yet this act was performed with a magical order; as one squad landed, not long after, the next would jump, while the previous made its way forward, clearing a landing spot for their falling comrades. Overall, the Guardian troops looked like a perfectly operating machine.

The veterans at the vanguard were the old men of the Guardians, serving as both shield and sword against the onslaught. The newcomers, still in need of acclimation, were mixed in with the central force, like Nelson, following behind his older brother Pierre. For Nelson, entering war mode for the first time brought a mix of excitement and unease. Pierre, his captain and older brother, punched him as a form of encouragement.

"Feeling better now?" Behind Pierre’s iron helmet, Nelson could only see those familiar eyes with a mischievous smile.

"It hurts a bit, but okay, now it feels just like training."

"Fighting will be no different from training. If you get hurt, my First Aid Divine Skill will take care of you. You’ll feel only a sting less painful than the punch I just gave you. After all, this is low-intensity, small fry stuff, the kind of beatings you’re used to will see you through."

Nelson’s heart calmed a little, "Low intensity, why are we talking about low intensity? That Witch who was burned at the stake, her combat power was not much different from mine."

"Equipment and mental state. Do you think the Guardians would let you go to battle as a Scout without armor? Combat power, laughable. Kid, the minimum standard for a Guardian is about here," Pierre gestured around his waist, "and your level is about here." His hand moved down to his knees.

Is my current level still below the Guardian threshold?

Seeing Nelson’s discontent, Pierre gave a shrug that suggested that was indeed the case. "Strictly speaking, you’re still a reservist. According to the normal process, you will not qualify until after the Ceremony of Holy Light officially concludes. To show benevolence to the sufferers, to understand what a real Guardian is, and to witness the blessings bestowed by our leader, Raphael. To comprehend our legion, the usual process would be to tell you a story, but gaining understanding through battle is also feasible. After this fight, you’ll be a true Guardian."

Nelson furrowed his brows, "So, are you saying our battle will actually be quite easy?"

"A one-sided slaughter, or annihilation. The duration of the battle depends on the commander’s mindset. By the way, he might send you to the front line for training newcomers. Don’t worry, we’ll protect you. He always takes care of everything properly. Judging from their behavior of sending a Fourth Tier Scout, I presume the apparent strength of the Witches is similar to ours. However, enemies who are on the same level as us all die. Besides, we have an angelic leader, who, even weakened, is a trump card that can upheave the entire situation."

Listening to his captain’s explanations, Nelson felt his unease dissipated like clouds, while personal benevolence began to concern him with trivial matters. "Commander, must we really eradicate the Witches completely? I know we’ve always had the tradition of witch-hunting, but they were once human, just like us."

Another punch, this one hitting Nelson’s helmet with such force that it felt like his helmet was dented. "Put aside your mercy, kid. Mercy towards enemies is cruelty to oneself. Maybe their past lives were pitiful, but their current existence has become an invisible plague. Do you want to watch your future daughter burn at the stake just like them, under your gaze? Witches will turn your wives and daughters into monsters like themselves. This isn’t something kindness can change. Justice is pale and one-sided, remember that."

Nelson took to heart the lessons from his big brother Pierre, as the real high-ups, too, were having a casual conversation amidst the same brilliance.

Raphael stood in his room, watching the Guardians pass through the square in an orderly fashion. His Guardian, Frey, had already prepared his gear.

"I’m ready to depart, Lord Raphael."

Raphael looked at the black pillars erected on the distant mountaintop, his gaze one of contempt. "Is it necessary for you to enter the fray yourself, Frey? Such trivial skirmishes don’t require your involvement. The opponents are just a group of Witches and a beast."

"I am the commander of the legion, the legion needs me. Even when a lion hunts a rabbit, it must use its full strength. My vision isn’t as far-reaching as yours, my lord, but I will attend to the present. Should the truly unexpected occur, I will hold on until you can come to the rescue."

"Suit yourself. I will be there when needed."

After saluting, Frey walked out of Raphael’s room. With his head held high and chest puffed out, the passing Guardian knights, upon seeing Frey’s dragon fruit-like helmet, gave him their respects while moving on.

Frey merged with the troops, but not long afterward, he was called to halt. As he stopped, the stream of Guardian soldiers flowed around him, undisturbed by his presence—as if he were an island in the midst of the current.

Another isolated island walked towards him, and behind the separating crowd, Frey saw that tall figure sporting a flame helmet just like his own, holding a little girl in his hand.

"Osnack."

"Frey, this little guy wanted to get onto the battlefield and hid among our troops. I caught her. What should we do?" Frey looked at the little girl who was being dangled in midair by the towering Osnack, swinging her fists and kicking. She wore a set of silver knight armor gifted to beginners, her pitiful strength barely reaching Second Tier, the kind that couldn’t make a single splash on the battlefield.

"Just find a random pillar and tie her up..."

"You can’t! I still have to save Lord Purifier Lyle! You can’t stop me, I, an heir of the Pembai Family, am willing to sacrifice myself for the Holy Light!"

Osnack grabbed the Hammer of Holy Light that Karen was swinging, which looked like a toy in his large hand. "I’m starting to like this little one a bit, but, little girl, we are still here, it’s not your turn to sacrifice yourself. We will help you save your Purifier."

"No! I must go myself!"

"How could we possibly let a little girl like you onto the battlefield."

Watching the arguing Karen and Osnack, Frey issued a command.

"Take her with you, Osnack."

"Yay!" "Huh? Frey, you’ve changed."

"Heh, follow your superior’s orders! You big dummy!"

"I’m on the same level as Frey, you brat! Frey, it’s dangerous to let her onto the battlefield without anyone to look after her..."

"Then you’ll look after her, won’t you? Osnack, don’t you like her a lot?"

"No, what about my troops?"

"I’ll command them for you, Osnack," Frey continued as he saw his companion hesitating, "take good care of Dolanko Pembai’s daughter."

"This... all right."

Karen looked at the two men who suddenly complied with her own wishes, her eyeballs rolling around in her little head.

"Hey! O-something-ack! My father wouldn’t happen to be some kind of hidden big shot, would he?"

Frey’s voice was as calm as ever.

"He is not now, but he will be very soon."