CHAPTER 253: CHAPTER 252: THE STONEWALL SHATTERS

Lumberling’s grip tightened on his spear, confidence radiating from every line of his body.

Then he moved.

In an instant, soldiers fell, clean, efficient strikes that left no room for screams. One after another, armor crumpled, shields split, and blood hit the dirt.

Lumberling didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter. His spear flowed like a living extension of him. Blood sprayed across his hands, slicking his grip.

The men’s morale began to crack. Their charge slowed, fear dawning as they realized this was no ordinary warrior. Hesitation spread, curses whispered between clenched teeth. Some wanted to flee, but Lumberling gave them no chance, he was too swift, too relentless. In minutes, their numbers were halved.

"Hold your ground!" a commanding voice roared despite the chaos.

Torvald’s personal Knight strode forward, rallying the remaining troops with iron authority. His aura flared, undeniably that of a True Knight. Around him, two Knight Apprentices and five Knight Pages fell into formation, blades raised with grim resolve.

"Get into ranks! Together, we can bring him down!"

The hesitation bled from the men as duty overtook fear. They knew retreat meant death just as surely as the monster in front of them.

Lumberling slowed, his spear lowering into a ready stance. His eyes flicked across the field, picking out the stronger ones, the True Knight, the Apprentices, the Pages. He had avoided striking them down earlier, saving them for last.

A faint smile curved his lips.

Lumberling’s eyes locked onto the True Knight. In one breath, he surged forward, muscles coiling with deadly precision.

’Thundering Lunge... Spearheart Thrust!’

Both skills ignited as one, his body blurring into motion, as mana and spark spread through his body, spear driving forward like a lightning bolt.

The True Knight braced himself, planting his feet. His massive tower shield, broad enough to cover his whole frame snapped into place with a practiced motion. The clash came in a thunderous clang, the air trembling with the force.

Gritting his teeth, the Knight roared, ’Stonewall Guard!’

Mana surged into his shield, thickening its form, layers of hardened force spreading over the metal like stone. The defense solidified, immovable, a wall meant to weather any strike.

Lumberling felt it instantly, the weight pressing back against his thrust. But he did not falter. He bore down with all his strength, forcing his spear deeper. The ground beneath their feet cracked. Then...

BOOM!

Dust and smoke exploded outward.

When the haze cleared, the True Knight was still standing, shield trembling in his grasp. Deep cracks spiderwebbed across its surface. He was breathing hard, his stance faltering, but alive.

Lumberling glanced at his weapon. His spear lay in two jagged halves, snapped cleanly from the strain.

"...So my weapon can’t handle my strength anymore." His voice was calm, almost thoughtful. "I should find time to find a better quality."

He let the broken shaft fall from his hand. Then his gaze lifted, settling on the panting Knight. His lips curved. ’For someone weaker to be able to block my full force.’ His pulse quickened. This was prey worth devouring.

The True Knight staggered back, sweat beading on his brow. But he seized the moment, his voice booming.

"He’s unarmed! Now strike! Kill him!"

The order snapped the soldiers into motion. Dozens surged forward, Knights among them, weapons raised.

But Lumberling only smiled.

His hand went to his waist. With a smooth motion, he drew the blade sheathed there.

The first soldier to reach him lunged recklessly, only for Lumberling’s sword to cut clean through his torso, splitting him in two. Another followed, his strike parried with ease before his head rolled free.

Then came the Knights. Lumberling’s strikes shifted, limbs severed, tendons sliced, their weapons falling useless from broken hands. He spared them deliberately, leaving them writhing but alive, their screams a grim chorus.

Even without his spear, his main weapon, he carved through them. Less fluid, perhaps, less natural than when wielding the spear. But still unstoppable.

Each swing, each step carried the same message, weapon or no weapon, they could not stand against him.

Torvald’s personal Knight froze for a heartbeat as he watched. The monster before him had tear through soldiers and Knights alike, his blade singing a rhythm of death.

Despair settled in his chest like lead.

He glanced back at his Lord, Torvald, writhing in the dirt. The pitiful groans cut deeper than the Knight expected. He had followed that man all his life, weathered his arrogance and cruelty, and in return Torvald had poured coin, time, and resources into his training. That loyalty had carried him this far.

And yet... that same arrogance had led them here.

He exhaled, steadying himself. There was no escaping this. No bargaining. No mercy.

From the dirt, Torvald’s voice tore through the clash, shrill and commanding despite the blood pooling beneath him.

"Kill him! Do you hear me?! I’ll flay you alive if you fail!"

His face twisted, spit flying with every word. The soldiers flinched at his madness, but the Knight only lowered his eyes, the insult cutting deeper than any wound.

"Forgive me, my Lord..." the Knight whispered under his breath. He raised his sword and shield, grip firm, and rushed forward with a roar.

Lumberling turned to meet him, his eyes narrowing. There was no hesitation in the Knight’s charge, no fear, only resolve.

"Good," Lumberling murmured. "At least you’re not running."

The Knight roared, swinging his sword with all his might while bracing behind a shield wreathed in mana. ’Stonewall Guard!’

He bellowed his battle cry, driving his body to its absolute peak. His shield skill twisted into raw endurance, his entire being burning to land a single decisive strike.

With a thunderous step, he lunged. His sword carved downward in a brutal arc, shield snapping up to catch Lumberling’s counter. The clash rang like a bell, steel shrieking as sparks burst between them.

Lumberling slid aside, his blade flashing in a fluid sweep, striking again and again with unyielding precision. Each blow slammed against the Knight’s defenses, cracking his shield, bending his stance. The Knight grunted, muscles screaming, but he refused to yield, shoving forward with a desperate thrust meant to break through.

Steel met steel.

The impact shook the ground, sparks scattering in every direction. For a breath, the Knight held his ground, teeth bared, his entire frame straining against the storm that was Lumberling. His shield had cracked earlier, now his very bones felt like they would follow.

He roared one last time, shoving forward with all his weight. His battered shield rose to meet Lumberling’s blade. For a heartbeat, it held, cracked but unbroken.

Then, with a deafening CRACK, the shield split apart, shards of steel bursting into the air.

Lumberling’s sword plunged through the opening, piercing straight into the Knight’s chest. The man staggered, eyes wide with shock, before blood spilled down his lips.

"You fought well," Lumberling said quietly, pulling the blade free.

The Knight toppled, lifeless, the broken halves of his shield clattering uselessly to the dirt beside him.

(You have devoured the Knight’s essence. 1,500 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Knight’s memories and experience.)

(You have learned the active skill: Beginner Stonewall Guard Lvl 0 (1/1000))