The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha!
Chapter 92 - 24: Guardian of Justice (2) (Major Chapter)_2

Chapter 92: Chapter 24: Guardian of Justice (2) (Major Chapter)_2

In streets and alleys, everyone was talking about this matter. People always worship the strong, and from time to time, cheers of "Long live the Holy Knight!" erupted.

The author, shut inside his room and feverishly writing novels, listened to the sounds outside, feeling as energized as if he was injected with adrenaline.

"This book will definitely sell! Definitely sell! I’m going to make it big! Any novel related to the Holy Knight is sure to sell now!"

...

The mood of the small team from White City shifted from initial shock! Shock! Shock! and debating whether to intervene to direct numbness! Numbness! Numbness! "A battle report not saying ’major victory’ feels slightly off," and "This war has absolutely nothing to do with us; we’re just unnecessary here."

Shelley had already begun preparing a welcome ceremony for Gray’s triumphant return.

A lot of small incidents occurred in between.

For example, Jones, after just three hours of sleep, declared he was fully rested, then set out with Dora under the baffled gaze of everyone.

For example, Carl personally returned to fetch equipment because his sword had dulled and much of his armor had been broken, necessitating replenishments. He also brought back a large barrel of olive oil and a few fish, though no one knew what they were for.

"Armor needs replenishing? I’ve never heard of replenishing armor... If the armor’s broken, how can the person inside it be unharmed? Does replenishing armor allow more fighting?" Huoersi’s face burned with embarrassment, feeling as if all his years of studying military textbooks were useless. He even began questioning the validity of the battles he once fought: "Good heavens, I even mocked him for not understanding commanding?!?"

Regardless, that’s just how things unfolded. Gray continued relentlessly raiding two military camps, throwing everything into chaos. This became a textbook-level example of cavalry plunder tactics, though practically no one else could replicate it.

By the afternoon, Huoersi set out, deciding to scout the front line personally because the intelligence was far too bizarre. He wanted to see with his own eyes this war that defied nearly every norm of military strategy.

Rumor had it that both camps Gray harassed had been stripped of everything except the soldiers’ personal equipment. Many were injured, but no one had died. This was even worse than mass casualties! Injured soldiers unable to fight became a massive burden!

Benedict II cursed Gray angrily, calling him "shameless and devoid of knightly spirit." Yet Gray, entirely true to himself, sneered dismissively, utterly unmoved.

Not stopping there, the ever-chivalrous Gray deliberately allotted Benedict II two hours at dusk to summon doctors from nearby towns to treat his injured soldiers, profiting handsomely in the process. Of course, the doctors were the ones charging exorbitantly, which had nothing to do with Gray. After all, Gray had no greed for money, right?

During subsequent battles, Gray also kindly avoided attacking the injured soldiers.

However, during these two hours of medical care at Benedict II’s camp, Duke Fernandes suffered immensely—terribly. He got beaten incessantly for two straight hours.

It was said local farmers even carried chairs to the hilltops to watch the battles, clapping and cheering the entire time.

Day turned to night in the blink of an eye, yet the astonishing battle continued unabated...

At the start of the fight, everyone assumed it would end quickly; after all, Gray only had a mere hundred members in his Silver Moon Knight Order. What could they possibly achieve?

Yet, at this moment, no one thought so anymore.

The devastated Duke Fernandes and Benedict II even feared this battle might last forever because there seemed to be no end in sight.

This thought pushed soldiers—who had already endured nearly twenty-four hours of torment—to the brink of collapse.

"Gray fought brilliantly. Aren’t you happy?" Vivian asked Catherine, who floated beside her.

Catherine replied solemnly, "This is only the beginning. His real opponent is actually the Church. There are twenty-three human nations on this continent, and even if he fully conquers Isaac Kingdom, the war would have just begun."

"Really?" Vivian grinned cheekily, "I’m much more optimistic. I think he’ll keep winning indefinitely, toppling the entire Church. And if he can’t, we’ll quietly lend him a hand!"

Catherine eyed Vivian with discontent.

By midnight, Yilin finally realized she might not be able to wait for Gray for now, deciding to ride to the front lines herself.

The road from Lion King City to the destination was winding, not to mention Yilin’s horse wasn’t one of the tireless Bone Horses from the Silver Moon Knight Order. It took them four whole hours to arrive. At dawn, they finally reached their destination.

And what did they see?

On the charred ground before them, Duke Fernandes’ troops stood in a circular formation, each soldier dirty, their expressions blank and dazed.

Gray rode his horse, leading the Silver Moon Knight Order to circle them nonstop, shouting and roaring, brimming with energy as if the war had just begun. Occasionally, they rushed in for a jab or two before swiftly retreating.

Duke Fernandes’ troops were like meat placed on a chopping board, ready to be slaughtered.

"Why don’t they fire arrows?" Yilin asked.

"Because they’ve run out of arrows. Not just arrows, they’ve run out of everything. The water they have was only secretly fetched during Gray’s raid on Benedict." Huoersi replied faintly, "Thanks to limited lethal injuries, spirits haven’t entirely collapsed yet. Benedict II’s camp faces the same situation. This is utterly insane. How did he train his soldiers like this? Forget those boys in the city—even I want to join the Silver Moon Knight Order."

"You’d better stay by my side for now." Staring at the scorched battlefield ahead, Yilin took a deep breath and said, "Your curiosity—once the war ends, I’ll ask him on your behalf."

"Thank you, Miss Yilin." Huoersi smiled and once again sincerely remarked, "It’s absolutely insane. I wouldn’t even dare to imagine such tactics."

As time ticked by, the war persisted relentlessly.

Gray continued to charge back and forth, while Duke Fernandes and Benedict II struggled in anguish... Every soldier felt drowsy and tormented but had no choice but to muster strength to keep going. Whenever they slacked, Gray would strike again.

No matter how absurd this war seemed, it remained undeniable. Denying it wouldn’t change reality.

Shelley had already pitched tents nearby, gearing up for the long haul and cheering for her Holy Knight enthusiastically. This deepened the desperation of the opposing soldiers. They couldn’t even move—the turtle-slow mobility of defensive formations left them helpless, and once they left the formation’s cover, they were utterly vulnerable against the Silver Moon Knight Order.

An utterly exhausted Duke Fernandes bellowed amidst his gathered troops: "What did you say? Five more days?!?"

"Yes, Duke Tangjis said he’s already rushing but will need at least five days to arrive." The kneeling soldier reported.

"Five days... Do I have to fight like this for five more days?" Duke Fernandes trembled in fury before his vision darkened, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud.

"Duke! Are you alright?"

"Duke!"

Thirty-six hours into the battle, Gray achieved a pivotal turning point.

Duke Fernandes... had a stroke.

Yes, you heard correctly, a stroke. The commander had a stroke.

It turned out elderly individuals shouldn’t harbor too much ambition, shouldn’t join wars, and definitely shouldn’t join ones that stretch day and night with endless "surprises." They’re far too prone to strokes.

And thus, Duke Fernandes’ troops had no choice but to request Gray’s permission to withdraw, promising never to join this war again.

Adhering to knightly spirit, Gray graciously agreed. Then, he turned his attention to the still-struggling Benedict II.