The Requiem Of An Empress 32 1St Tuor: Takemikazuchi

His comrades were all aware of Sagramore's immoderately developed sense of smell, enabling them to discern what was happening the instant he abruptly collapsed on the ground, sans a.s.suming that an onslaught had begun.

"The Elves? Then that will explain why the seventh Archd.u.c.h.ess was in the vicinity of these fiefs, when she's supposed to be on a diplomatic visit in the neighbouring continent. Much the same with the fifth Archduke, who brought some beastmen along in his journey." Iophiel spoke of his newly grasped a.n.a.lysis as he gazed into the distance, further inside the barricade.

The rest of the party were in agreement with Duke Cynan's conclusion. Meanwhile, the Emperor bided for Mikhail's return, staring at the path that the knight traversed on.

After the short window of a minute, the older Percival could be seen dashing athwart the horizon. By and by, he halted his movement a meter away from the monarch, hardly breaking a drop of sweat. That much distance won't leave a measly dent in his stamina.

"Somehow, there is a hypnosis effect once an individual touches the surface of the barrier, Your Majesty. It'll compel anyone, whoever attempts to enter it, to circ.u.mvent and withdraw.", the commander disclosed the very information that his companions wanted to be acquainted with.

Ensuing Mikhail's arrival, the knights a.s.sembled themselves in a row right afore the Emperor.

"So it's not their goal to collect as many beings as possible. Jibrail, what's your estimation of the casualties?", the Emperor now addressed the circ.u.mstances they should take into account before their infiltration.

"An approximate of 3000 combined, Your Majesty."

Lamentably, Jibrail's senses were completely gridlocked by Sarakiel latterly of healing him. He could only provide the data when he first discerned the stench of rotting blood. They have no way of knowing if the body count was increasing unless they move on with their mission.

What made the situation worse was that the Elven Population was heretofore in a delicate decline, that even losing a mere hundred would deal an irreversible blow on the race's prosperity.

The Emperor replied with a nod. In the first place, he discarded the ambition of saving all of the creatures imprisoned by the Demon n.o.bles. Hence, his motivation won't be hampered with numbers.

"Once we penetrate that barrier, I won't allow any of you to retreat until we conquer the rule of the Demon n.o.bles who dared insult our authority. Tactics won't prove to be of use to us since the lot of you, most of the time, selfishly go off on your own. Thus, a strategy will suffice. Arm yourselves with holy swords. Those who do not have scrolls, fend off the lower demons. Those who have, search for the n.o.bles."

"Yes, Your Majesty." - his subordinates unanimously acknowledged his commands as they bowed their heads.

"Very well. Mikhail, permeate through that shield with your Holy Swords." the monarch ordered the knight commander, as he sauntered forward, nighing the borderline.

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

The Prime Minister and the other knights mirrored the Emperor's actions, leaving Mikhail to do his task in silence.

Mikhail Percival extended his arms in front of him, both of his hands appearing as if they were already latching onto his swords. He commenced the gathering of mana within his clutches, giving the illusion that they were glowing.

The moment that he acc.u.mulated the amount of mana needed for his summoning, he went ahead to cast the spell.

"Cresco, Bors et Gallahad."

The knight in question was in possession of two Holy Swords named Bors and Gallahad. He's proficient in the art of the sword, sanctioning him to adeptly wield two of the most mandraining weapons.

Snakes of mana came slithering out of his grip at they danced up the air to outline the body of his swords.

The sword that took form earlier was Gallahad, a lonely strip of obsidian black light, in his right grasp. It was comparably smaller to Bors, a Zweihander taller than Mikhail, that he seized with his left hand. This sword has a golden blade with poisonous parrying hooks, a jade pommel topped with a black handle, placed under a guard that was embedded with the tangled patterns of vines and roses.

The knight commander tightly clenched both handles of his Holy Swords in advance of cleaving the s.p.a.ce on either side of his body. The descent of his weapons marooned the greeneries surrounding him of their vitality.

Thereupon, he planted Bors on the patch of land an inch away from him then he adjusted his hold of Gallahad to wield it akin to a javelin.

"malum quo communius eo peius; stamus contra malum; tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior to; Daiboli delenda est"

As he chanted the spell dedicated to awaken Gallahad, the sword's caliginosity darkened ever further, surpa.s.sing even the highest quality of Vantablacks. Then, myriads of strands of electrostatic discharge coiled around the length of the blade, propagating by the second.

Mikhail positioned his left palm on top of Bors' pommel as he articulated another enchantment.

"ab incunabulis; ad honorem; Fidei Defensor; fiat lux;"

All of a sudden, Bors disappeared, abandoning the area where it was buried. Consequently, it came into view a couple of stretches away from its owner, hovering several meters above the ground with its blade pointed towards the barrier. However, it was not the same boring sword that it was prior. The translucent blue light that enveloped its body wholly laid out Bors' grandeur.

Mikhail took a step back with his right foot as he stretched his left arm to his front. Soon after, he aligned his shoulders, withdrawing the right arm that was holding Gallahad.

"extra territorium jus dicenti impune non paretur"

The knight commander catapulted Gallahad, slightly grazing Bors' handle which propelled it straight to the dome. The Holy Swords accelerated alongside each other, nearly surpa.s.sing the speed of light.

Forthwith the swords making contact with the legerdemain of a barrier, a thunderous explosion reverberated in the vicinity. It was utterly loud that for a while, it ruined the ability to perceive sound of those who've heard it. Moreover, the radiance that was emerging from the point of impact, where the mana signatures were clashing, spewed blinding orbs that created a lively rainbow in the muren light.

The magical barrier tried to resist the foreign weapons that covet to destroy it. Withal, healthy branches of lightning continuously descended inside the barrier, courtesy of Gallahad, while Bors profusely widened the minuscule crevice with its aura.

In due time, owing to the persistent attacks of the holy swords, the barrier succ.u.mbed to their power. Fractures sprung up, beginning from the scene of the collision.

The weapons weren't enough to demolish the entirety of the barrier, seeing that merely a sector of it crumbled like gla.s.s crystals. Even so, the aperture that unfolded was sufficient for the entrance of the monarch and his retainers.

Admiring the shards of gla.s.s raining down on him, the Emperor began to lead his procession towards the pandemonium. The look of delight was seen on his countenance as he noticed that they were being welcomed--

By the millions of demons and monsters ready to pounce on them.

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The Empress straightened her back, mustering all the courage she could ahead of confronting her distasteful visitor. Then and there, she started to walk en route the pa.s.sage to her palace.

Truth to be told, she was afraid. The lady was fully aware that she won't be able to hold off the Demon n.o.ble by solely her and the Kishnar siblings' capabilities.

'I won't forgive myself if harm befalls on the citizens of the capital because of my foolish carelessness. I have to think of a way to keep them here until the Emperor's return.' Barely reigning on her fright, the Empress' trembling hands tightened their clasp on her dress.

During the interval, Tara and Sura speculated on why the Empress was acting as such as they observed the horror in her eyes.

"Your Highness, what seems to be the problem?"

"Are you alright? Do you need to take some medicine?"

Their a.s.says in conversing with the Empress were futile. Ergo, they just decided to accompany their master in her little stroll.

Once she arrived at the facade of the Soltis palace's doorway, the Empress reached for the handles. As the door revealed the figures of her guests, she composed herself to welcome them properly.

On the other side, Rehael, Leliel, Gaderel, and Lauviah presented themselves. Countess Lukan tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing the woman in front of them from head to toe.

"Who are you?" The Countess curiously asked, yet she had an inkling as to what the ident.i.ty of the woman was.

"Apologies for the late introduction, dear members of the Knights of the Round Table. I am Ilyavher la Trushen Seraphiel, the Empress of the Seraphiel Empire."