Lich for Hire

Chapter 221: The Dragon Knight Davian

The Silvermoon Knight was destined to die in the orcish mountains, not in the desert.

Known fate could not be changed. That was an absolute law. No matter what Ambrose did, it would be impossible for him to kill the Silvermoon Knight here.

That was why, at first, Ambrose had been so terrified his soul had nearly fled his body. If he were facing an old monster who was fated not to die here, any struggle on his part would be meaningless.

But he quickly realized something: since the Silvermoon Knight was not meant to die here, then the Goddess of Fate's trial could not be about killing him.

The moment he realized that, Ambrose calmed down. Then, he noticed the key detail he had initially overlooked.

The Silvermoon Knight had only swung his sword once and had not continued attacking thereafter.

There were around a dozen figures fighting in the sky. Six of them were bathed in holy light, and were clearly legendary paladins of the Lyon Empire. The remaining fighters were legendary figures from the Dwarven Kingdom. Ambrose didn't recognize them individually, but he could tell that the two sides had initially been evenly matched—until that one strike. After the Silvermoon Knight's attack, the dwarven side had lost nearly a third of their forces.

That absurd old monster had slain four or five legends in a single blow. It was utterly ridiculous.

The other legendary paladins of Lyon were no weaklings either. They were relentlessly hammering the remaining dwarven legends, driving them into complete disarray.

Meanwhile, the sounds of marching armies echoed from outside Sweetdew City. Alarms blared from the city walls. Arcane cannons roared to life. Clearly, Lyon's army had already reached the city.With enemies attacking over land and sky, Sweetdew City seemed guaranteed to fall.

But that raised a crucial question: had Sweetdew City actually fallen?

Ambrose had met Harvey later in this very city. Months from now, Sweetdew City would remain under the Dwarven Kingdom's control.

So how had the city survived such a ferocious assault?

"We are the only possible variable," Ambrose said to Catherine. "The variable that Fate must have accounted for. My trial… is to defend this city."

"Defend it?" Catherine frowned. "Are we supposed to stand on the walls and help them fight?" That would certainly be the simplest approach, but also the most likely to expose them.

Ambrose shook his head. "You don't need to worry. You won't have to fight in this battle."

Catherine wanted to ask where his confidence came from when his opponent was the Silvermoon Knight himself. But Ambrose didn't give her the chance. He shot straight into the sky.

Catherine watched him ascend, her heart filled with worry.

Ambrose, however, was completely confident. Mid-flight, he opened up his extradimensional space and summoned Naomi.

A massive silver dragon emerged from the portal, letting out a thunderous roar that startled everyone present.

Where had this silver dragon come from?

After resting for so long, Naomi had recovered most of her strength. She couldn't yet perform another temporal leap, but fighting wasn't an issue.

Ambrose mounted her back and charged straight into the aerial battlefield.

In his hands appeared a long-barreled magitech rifle, an improved version that he had refined countless times and that far surpassed the original in power.

He pulled the trigger. The muzzle spat out rapidly spinning white bullets.

No matter how chaotic the battlefield, no matter how fierce the winds at high altitude, Ambrose's legendary ranger boon ensured his flawless accuracy.

One shot struck a paladin who was chasing down a dwarven legend. The bullet didn't pierce the armor, but upon impact, it shattered into white powder that rapidly multiplied, forming a cage of bone around the target in less than a second.

These virus-grown bones were fragile, and a legendary paladin could shatter them with ease. But Ambrose gave him no such chance.

Shot after shot struck, thickening the bone cage layer by layer.

Each time the paladin broke through one layer with a Sacred Slash, another formed immediately. The self-reinforcing bone prison trapped him completely.

The paladin tried to unleash holy light to destroy the bones, but they hadn't formed as a result of necromancy. Rather, this was biotechnology from Alkhemia. Holy light had little effect on the bone. He might as well have hacked at them with his sword.

After he neutralized that paladin, the dwarven legends immediately recognized Ambrose as an ally. They didn't know where this silver-armored dragon knight—who looked suspiciously like a paladin himself—had come from, but that didn't matter. They seized the opportunity to counterattack.

The sky exploded into a storm of light and magic, like dazzling fireworks.

It didn't take long for Ambrose to be targeted. A Sacred Slash came at him from the side, aimed straight for his head.

Ambrose didn't even glance at it. He remained focused on using his rifle to disrupt the other paladins, helping the dwarves regain the upper hand.

As for the incoming strike, it cut through empty air.

With a flap of her wings, Naomi carried him away at an unbelievable speed.

The body of a time dragon was permanently enhanced with acceleration magic. Despite her massive size, Naomi was far faster than any of the paladins.

That was precisely why Ambrose had brought her. A ranger without his companion couldn't even unleash half his strength.

After dodging the attack, Naomi turned her head and exhaled a cloud-like breath at the pursuing paladin.

A time dragon's breath was no ordinary flame. It was a form of energy infused with temporal power. Too diffuse to evade, the silver mist enveloped the paladin completely.

A series of metallic clatters rang out. Pieces of his armor began falling off.

The once-polished silver armor rapidly corroded, as if centuries had passed in an instant.

This was the power of time. Naomi's breath forced the target's time forward unpredictably. If he were lucky, only a day or two would pass. If he were unlucky, he might age decades in an instant. And he had been quite unlucky.

Of course, killing a legendary paladin so easily was impossible. Holy light flared like a miniature sun, purging all abnormal effects. His aged body reverted to that of a man in his forties or fifties.

But the damage remained. His armor was mostly destroyed, and even his sword had rusted badly.

Ambrose didn't hesitate. He raised his hand. A sharp streak of cold light shot from his palm.

With his defenses weakened, the paladin could only raise a barrier of holy light and attempt to block with his rusted blade.

The attack pierced straight through the sword before tearing through the holy barrier and plunging into his body.

The paladin felt as if a void had been carved into him. His immense holy power was being drained away through that opening, leaving him weak and unsteady. Even his flight spell collapsed as he fell from the sky.

Ambrose was very satisfied. This was the effect of Catherine's anti-magic boon.

The legendary boon she had gained upon becoming a legendary ranger allowed her to pierce through all forms of magic-based defenses. Even Ambrose had nearly suffered from it once. Not even the magical shields created by his Golden Throne could withstand it.

It wasn't particularly unreasonable. The use of this boon should have been exclusive to Catherine herself.

But who would have expected her to then develop a second boon that allowed her to share the effects of the first? With countless craftsmen capable of producing anti-magic weapons, the elven race could be equipped with such weapons on a massive scale. If war truly broke out, the elves might very well be invincible—at least until they destroyed themselves. The Silvermoon Knight's moonlight slash was unstoppable, but even he couldn't block thousands of elven archers wielding anti-magic arrows by himself.

At present, the elves were still preparing their invasion of Alkhemia. These weapons likely remained unknown.

Ambrose had used this extravagant equipment to cripple a paladin, and Lyon immediately sensed that something was wrong.

Until now, Lyon had completely dominated the battle. With the Silvermoon Knight present, they had been unstoppable.

But this dragon knight had appeared out of nowhere and turned the tide.

The old man floating in the distance made a swift decision. He flew down, caught the falling paladin, and ordered, "Retreat!"

The remaining paladins didn't hesitate. They threw out every magical item they could, breaking free from their opponents and following the Silvermoon Knight in retreat.

Watching the old man depart, Ambrose finally let out a breath. He had gambled correctly.

That old monster only had the strength for a single strike. After killing several legends with one blow, he could only observe from afar. Perhaps in a life-or-death situation, he might be able to unleash another burst of power at great expense, but as long as he wasn't pushed to the brink, he wouldn't force himself further.

Cheers erupted around Ambrose. The surviving dwarven legends vented their fear and fury with triumphant shouts.

With the aerial battle over, the Lyon army on the ground also halted its advance. Lyon valued its forces too much to waste them needlessly. Without a decisive victory among the legends, they had no choice but to withdraw and regroup.

At that moment, a dwarf flew over to Ambrose, brimming with gratitude. "Thank you, Sir Knight! Please, tell me your name. I, Hoffmann Ore, must know who saved my life."

"Hoffmann?"

Ambrose turned to look at the dwarf floating toward him.

His armor was in tatters. Burn marks from holy light covered his body. His right arm had been severed at the elbow, and the wound was still bleeding.

Could this be Hoffmann Ironfist, the future King's Hand?

It was hard to imagine this trembling dwarf rising to such an exalted station.

After a moment's thought, Ambrose replied, "I am Davian, a dragon knight who happened to pass by."