Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 477 - 477 223 Faith and Miracles

477: Chapter 223: Faith and Miracles 477: Chapter 223: Faith and Miracles The dawn has passed, but this ancient town, located northwest of the Seryan Griffin Mountain Range, has not been bathed in the morning light as it used to be.

Shadows envelop the land as if an endless night, and a surging sea of the undead sweeps over the high walls of the castle; the outer quarters of the town have turned into an ocean of death, with thousands of Defender Army corpses scattered everywhere…

The last survivors, the elderly, the weak, women, and children, huddle deep within the formidable bulwarks of the Holy Hall.

Trembling, the sturdy stone walls and dome above them fail to provide any sense of safety.

Under the guidance of priests, people sob and pray helplessly.

“…Oh Saint Sol above, we bow our heads and gaze upward, your light like a torch, gracing all creatures…

We implore the Flame Sun to oversee, bestow wisdom, grant courage…

Solely honor the Holy Sun, solely Illaril, pour down your mercy, grant us your protection…

May the everlasting light cleanse our souls, guiding our path free of malevolence….

May we remain pure as we began, finally reaching His holy halls…”

Atop the castle ramparts, the cloaks of the Defender Army soldiers are stained with foul blood; they brandish their blades and war hammers, shouting the name of the Holy Sun in a fight to the death, slaughtering the Corpse Ghosts climbing over the walls.

However, the enormous Corpse Cart finally arrives slowly, its malevolent bell tolling.

A green torrent sweeps over the battlements.

Magic Power pierces through Armor, skimming directly over the flesh of the living, rust spreading across the surface of the steel armor, and many brave warriors fall without even a scream.

Where the dissipating beam of light falls, countless half-real, half-spectral resentful spirits shriek as they throw themselves towards the other warriors on the wall, emerging from the burning Ghost Fire.

(In Lorelette Language)

“In the realm of Mosela Sol, reject the lifeless undead…

In the name of Illaril!

My soul and all souls scatter!”

The Magic Ring Priest, adorned in long robes and a mitre, fights weariness to raise the Sun Wheel Scepter again.

——Hum!

Magic Power transforms into pure elements, brilliant daylight flares slicing through the darkness, spreading outward, instantly cleansing the approaching ghostly sea of darkness.

Evil spirits dissipate with screams, but the next moment, countless bat-winged Corpse Demons descend from the heavens, flying toward the unprotected Priest.

The Priest struggles and waves the Scepter, gathering flames that swirl around him; swathes of Corpse Demons are burned to ashes.

But as the relentless undead onslaught continues wave after wave, they eventually overwhelm the casting Priest…

With the fall of the last warrior defending the walls, the Corpse Ghost Army swarms through the inner walls.

Inside the castle’s Holy Hall.

Under the blazing sun totem, the old Priest leads the devout warriors before him in reciting the last prayer.

A hazy and holy sunlight appears within the Sun Crowns atop the helmets of the Holy Sun Knights.

The final Holy Sun Knights and Defender Army soldiers stand solemnly with swords planted, fearless.

“Today we die for the children of Holy Sun, for glory, without resentment or regret.” The young Knight leading them steps forward in front of the tightly shut gate, passing by his comrades’ ranks.

He can hear the thundering footsteps of the undead drawing nearer.

This means his father has already perished upon the wall.

Now…

it is their turn….

The gates of the Holy Hall are pushed open.

Down the dark fortress path, a large group of rushing undead appears before the eyes of the Knights.

“For the Holy Flame Sun!!” The young Knight, raising his great sword, is the first to charge out.

Following their lord’s son, the Knights roar and step out of the Holy Hall, meeting the last battle of their lives.

The Knights in silver and white Armor confront the screeching Corpse Ghosts as they collide with the enemy hordes.

——Great swords slash, Long Spears swing——

The fearless Knights hack their way through the tide of corpses, carving a bloody path.

Neither rotting zombies nor skeletal warriors clad in Armor can stop them.

The wail of ghosts comes from the end of the thoroughfare, as throngs of phantom resentful spirits wielding scythes and daggers rush toward the living.

However, the ghostly masses of evil spirits, nearing the Knights, are made even more indistinct by the dim sunlight halo behind the valiant warriors.

As the Knights roar and slice with their blades, they shatter the wavering Profane Spirits before them.

Holy Words resound behind them as well.

Dancing specks of light interweave as they radiate from the high-crowned old Priest.

They illuminate a vast expanse of a dark but holy barrier, centering around the Priest, the dazzling silhouette spreading out slowly in a semicircle.

The Corpse Ghosts plunging into this realm akin to the Holy Domain fall one by one, and as the resentful spirits touch the edge, they explode into nothingness, dramatically reducing the pressure on the fighting Knights.

Bodies pile up; countless Wandering Souls collapse under the Knights’ blades.

But overhead, the Corpse Demons circle like predators that have spotted their prey.

They swoop down like dark clouds towards the blinding light below, followed by two even larger shadows of Bat Ghosts.

The half-living, half-dead demon ghosts, merely slowed by the light, then extend their rear claws to grasp at struggling mortals.

The Soldiers guarding the old Priest desperately strike down the ghostly creatures falling from above, but the slightest lapse results in being grabbed by their rear claws, dragged out of formation by flapping wings, and thrown into the sea of corpses.

A whistling sound descends from the sky, accompanied by a loud crash, the ground shakes, heavy objects plummet, and bricks and broken bodies scatter all around.

The light that momentarily offered the Knights a glimpse of life fades away.

The young Knight cleaving through Corpse Ghosts at the forefront turns to look back.

Several of his fellow Knights have already fallen under the attack of the bat-like undead behemoths.

The aged Priest who has fallen to the ground has lost his Sun Wheel Scepter; he struggles to stand while drawing Dharma Seals, attempting to cast and strike back.