Chapter 49
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Chapter 49: Blade of the Night
Three hundred Nightblade Leopard Cavalry hid directly beneath the Crimson Flame Legion’s watchful gaze.
The Nightblade Panthers crouched motionless in the tall grass, their glowing green eyes fixed on the enemy camp mere hundreds of meters away. The vicious beasts resembled hunters poised to strike.
The Elves pressed flat against their mounts’ backs, holding their breath. Their blades stayed carefully angled to avoid catching even the faintest starlight. Rider and panther seemed fused into single shadows.
Seasoned warriors knew to calm their hearts during such moments, becoming still as ponds before the storm of battle.
Yet Klasty, the level 30 Nightblade Leopard Cavalry captain and only elf bold enough to question elven elders during meetings, couldn’t suppress his shock.
For there, half a body-length ahead in the grass, sat Midi.
Not only present, but astride a Nightblade Panther—specifically Blood Fang, the most savage beast even Klasty had failed to tame.
How could a human Demon Swordman achieve this? The proud elf’s mind reeled. Few from the Claw Tribe itself could bond with these predators, hence their mere three hundred cavalry. Yet this new young commander had casually requested a panther two days prior, treating it like some common warhorse.
Klasty had mockingly sent Blood Fang, expecting disaster. Instead, Midi mounted the beast as easily as one would a pony. The infamous panther now lay quiet as a kitten while the commander discussed tactics.
Only then did Klasty recall—this seventeen-year-old stood equal to the legendary Mist Sorceress Alice herself.
Would he lead them to triumph tonight? Or get five tribes slaughtered, becoming the Elves’ eternal disgrace?
The captain studied Midi’s shadowy outline, unaware the boy never entertained doubts. A reincarnator with future insights and iron will pursued only Victory—the kind where all survived.
Hence this gamble: a night raid against the Crimson Flame Legion, led personally to maximize devastation.
Hiding three hundred forest-savvy Elves and their natural-stealth panthers proved simple enough. By slaughtering enemy scouts, they’d shattered the Legion’s reconnaissance into splintered gaps.
Risks remained. If discovered, their divided forces faced annihilation. Normally, Midi avoided such cliff-edge strategies. But against fourfold numbers, normalcy meant defeat.
Should he wait for Fina’s Magic Beam or Alice’s summoned creatures to save them? No—Victory demanded boldness. Hence this strike.
Now, fortune favored Midi. General Red Fox had abandoned caution, launching attacks immediately after encampment. Not true night raids, but probes for attrition warfare.
Yet the fool didn’t realize—guarding the elven camp stood the Mist Sorceress, supreme mistress of defensive war.
Midi’s lips instinctively curved into a smile tinged with nostalgia and pride.
In the next instant, a crow silently perched on his shoulder.
"Begin now?" The crow spoke in an uncharacteristically cold yet melodious voice, devoid of its usual chatter.
"Soon," Midi replied naturally, as if addressing not the scatterbrained bird but its true master.
This summoned creature was indeed being controlled by Mist Sorceress Alice from twenty kilometers away. While Robin’s will lay dormant within the crow’s body, Alice observed everything through its eyes and beak via their invisible contract. She manipulated the crow’s movements, projected her voice, and even cast potent magic through it.
Fina’s Magic Beam could strike targets a kilometer and a half away, with that distance destined to grow. Yet here and now, Alice’s magic operated seamlessly across twenty kilometers. Even without Midi and the Nightblade Leopard Cavalry’s physical presence, the crow alone sufficed – and who would notice or suspect a mere crow?
Tactically, this demonstrated superior prowess, particularly in the peaceful year 984 of the Arad Calendar within this complacent nation. Fully aware of Alice’s capabilities when "serious," Midi confidently led three hundred cavalrymen in this bold assault.
"They’ve likely covered half the twenty-kilometer distance by now. Begin," Midi ordered decisively.
"Understood," the sorceress responded tersely.
Observing him through crow-vision felt oddly intimate, Alice noted briefly before refocusing. Magic surged from Crow Robin’s small frame, its feathers ruffling without wind as wings half-spread – anchoring itself on Midi’s shoulder while channeling the Tide of Magic.
Silent fog materialized under the moonlit sky, seeping through the Crimson Flame Legion’s camp. Unlike the blinding mist from their forest battle, this thinner veil permitted thirty-meter visibility amidst campfires, causing no alarm. Soldiers from Sais family lands dismissed it as typical Birch Forest weather, remembering daytime mists during their pursuit.
Within this haze, the Nightblade Leopard Cavalry advanced. Unlike clanking human knights, these riders moved like whispering shadows. Nightblade Panthers raced soundlessly across frozen earth, their paw pads silencing all footfalls.
Hundreds of meters vanished instantly. Depleted scouts and fog-covered gaps left defenses porous. Bowstrings thrummed softly, felling perimeter sentries before alarms sounded. The cavalry breached outer defenses in dispersed wedge formation.
"Enemy attack!" finally rang out, rousing the camp like a slumbering dragon. Veteran centurions and commanders rallied troops calmly, initiating standard counterattack protocols – measures that crumbled before the Nightblade assault.
"Blade Release!" Klasty barked coldly from Midi’s flank.
Three hundred silvery blades hissed from sheaths, transforming midair into whirling tri-blades. The spinning weapons shredded winter air, etching silver trails through mist as they built to peak rotation. Thirty meters – optimal range for the wandering gunslingers’ Spinning Blades. At this distance, they predicted movements and struck with lethal precision.
The blade-storm buzzed death, weaving a silken web that reduced swords, shields, armor and flesh alike to splinters. This was the Nightblade Cavalry’s domain – and at their spearhead rode Midi Asreks.
