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Chapter 135: Battle of the Saint Rank
🕑 Added 2025-01-11 05:06:51 +0000 UTCDubin, Yellow Bear, Gwen the Spotted Deer, and Bancroft the Wind Wolf exchanged a glance, each swallowing nervously before asking, their voices filled with skepticism but tinged with a sliver of hope, “Commander, do you really have a way to drive off this Saint rank?”
Charlot Mecklenburg let out a resonant cry, “People of Silver Dove Castle! Raise your heads and witness how I will repel the Saint rank of South Seraph!”
“This moment will be etched forever in the history of Silver Dove Castle.”
“Dubin! What day is it today?”
Dubin blinked, startled, and replied blankly, “Monday.”
Charlot unsheathed the Blood Rose, raised it loftily towards the sky, and declared, “Decades from now, you will all remember: On the Empire’s payday, Charlot Mecklenburg defeated the deadly foe of Behemoth Principality, the Saint rank of South Seraph!”
With a wave of his hand, the butler Dart stepped forward, carrying a box that contained the Ephemeral Blossom Array.
Charlot donned the Floating Blossoms, and instantly, an array of radiant, exotic flowers bloomed around him in vibrant splendor, lifting him gently into the air.
Grandma Saint Karen flashed a mischievous smile before vanishing from Charlot’s line of sight. However, she had not truly disappeared, for no one in Silver Dove Castle had ever seen her.
In the next instant, Grandma Saint Karen appeared directly before the middle-aged Saint rank from South Seraph. He was clad in coarse fabric, with thick eyebrows and sharp eyes, his demeanor steady and imposing.
The Saint rank was momentarily surprised and exclaimed, “A Dreamwalker!?”
Fiery battle energy surged from him, a roaring flame that counteracted the dream energy Karen exuded. Yet, this only ensured he himself was unaffected by her dreamcrafting; to everyone else—be they from Silver Dove Castle or South Seraph—Karen remained invisible.
Such was the nature of a Dreamwalker: one who traversed only within dreams.
Grandma Saint Karen spoke softly, “Stranger, can you withdraw from this battle?”
The middle-aged Saint rank replied gravely, “I fight for South Seraph.”
Karen’s gentle smile remained. “Then I only ask you to cease attacking Silver Dove Castle.”
“I refuse!” he declared resolutely.
“Then let us begin.”
Karen’s tone turned frigid as she added, “I won’t fight you, and I doubt you’ll find another Dreamwalker to counter me. But I will kill that young man.”
She pointed at Hughes, her words devoid of warmth, her intent chillingly clear.
The Saint rank bellowed, “Then I will kill that young man!” His finger now aimed squarely at Charlot, who was still floating laboriously in mid-air.
Karen replied simply, “Agreed.”
She vanished as if she had never been there. Alarmed, the Saint rank unleashed his fiery battle energy, flames sweeping the heavens, but they found no trace of her.
Were it a direct duel, even Karen’s mastery of dream energy could not have hidden her from the Saint rank’s spiritual senses. Yet by maintaining her distance, she left the Saint rank as helpless as a blind man.
...
With Jonan gone, Hughes had become the crux of everything.
To the middle-aged Saint rank, Hughes’ importance far outweighed that of Charlot, a mere commander of knights. Overcome by unease, he turned abruptly, retreating hastily towards Hughes.
Charlot, having floated just a few dozen meters off the ground, watched as the Saint rank pivoted and withdrew to the South Seraph restorationists.
No one saw Grandma Saint Karen; no one knew why the middle-aged Saint rank had departed. To the people of Silver Dove Castle, it was clear: Charlot, with unparalleled courage, had driven away the invader from South Seraph. A deafening cheer erupted throughout the castle.
Dolores, Frederica, Dubin, Yellow Bear, Gwen, and Bancroft were left utterly baffled. What had just happened?
“This isn’t logical!”
Well, perhaps logic had no place here, in a world ruled not by science but by alchemy and magic.
At that moment, Charlot’s renown soared to unprecedented heights, not only among the West Wind Knight Order but also in the hearts of Silver Dove Castle’s residents. They gazed up at him, floating amidst a halo of floating blossoms, with awe and reverence.
This was Charlot’s Silver Dove Castle.
The unity of the people had never been so absolute.
...
Hovering in mid-air, Charlot let out a sigh of relief.
Though he trusted Grandma Saint Karen to shield him from the Saint rank, facing such a foe directly still weighed heavily on him—more so, even, than confronting an evil god.
After all, the first time he had encountered an evil god, the real Charlot Mecklenburg had died before he could even feel the pressure. The second time, his soul had been shattered...
The third time, that enigmatic vampire deity had done nothing at all.
Charlot slowly descended to the walls of Silver Dove Castle. He hadn’t risen very high to begin with, and he carefully returned the Floating Blossoms to their wooden box.
This aerial stunt had cost him seventeen or eighteen blossoms—a loss he felt keenly, as it would certainly affect their selling price.
As Charlot touched down on the walls, the crowd fell silent. Only after he had secured the blossoms did they erupt in jubilant cheers, shouting, “Long live Commander Mecklenburg!”
The cry startled Charlot, who thought, Will this reveal my family name?
He quickly turned to check the horizon. Seeing the South Seraph restorationists retreating further and further from the castle, he finally relaxed. Their distant position meant they likely couldn’t hear the cries from the walls.
At that moment, the diary in Charlot’s pocket emanated a thought: Charlot Mecklenburg has once again repelled the South Seraph restorationists. Silver Dove Castle’s labyrinthification progress: (4/18).
Before he could celebrate, the diary projected another message: Charlot Mecklenburg, as acting commander of Silver Dove Castle, has driven away Saint Viggo. Upon labyrinthification, you will receive a reward.
Charlot waited patiently, but the damned diary offered no hint as to what the reward might be.
Standing atop the castle walls, Charlot confirmed that Grandma Saint Karen would not reappear. Reluctantly, he issued orders for the West Wind Knight Order and the castle militia to maintain shifts for vigilance, then returned to Silver Dove Castle.
...
Elsewhere, Saint Viggo bore a fresh scar across his face. In his arms lay the unconscious Hughes, whom he clutched with mounting fury. Never had he imagined that Grandma Saint Karen’s dreamcrafting could reach such mastery. Despite his best efforts, he had failed to prevent her from dragging Hughes into a dream.
The flames of Viggo’s battle energy burned brightly, illuminating the sky. After a long time, the Saint rank finally suppressed his anger and growled, “I promise not to harm Silver Dove Castle.”
As his words echoed, the unconscious Hughes stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering before he woke.
Hughes’ gaze was dazed at first but quickly sharpened. He broke free from Viggo’s grasp and addressed the empty air, “Madam, may I request the chance to duel that man in the dream realm?”
“If you agree, I will ensure the South Seraph restorationists temporarily withdraw.”
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