Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 1327: Exemplary Knights

Chapter 1327: Exemplary Knights



Before Skullius and Elita reached the Purity Headquarters...

The woman had never felt this kind of relief before. No one had cared for the commonfolk since the Great Trembling. When the creatures of darkness had begun their evil campaign, rising from the Under and slaughtering endlessly without mercy, she had watched as her oldest son, who, while exhibiting bravery too great for a common man, had attempted to protect them all. He had shielded his younger sister, and her while stomaching the sight of his beheaded father only a few inches away.

If bravery was a dragon, he might have saved the whole of Aigas on his own, but alas, the woman had watched him get gutted like a fish. She and her daughter couldn't have looked away. Closing their eyes was no comfort and looking elsewhere only gave them a different picture of death.

The horrendous image was burned into her eyes even now. It would never fade, but her heart was starting to rest and accept the new future.

Her daughter, small, skinny and particularly large-headed, had fallen asleep in the arms of one of their saviours.

The dimpled young man decked in a white, silver and blue armour, made sure to walk close to her so that she didn't get anxious about her daughter. The little girl was even sucking her thumb as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Oddly, many of the children in the vast group were walking close to the men and women in the same suit of armour as the dimpled young man. There were only about two dozen of them, moving in a perfectly circular formation around the forty thousand and some civilians, but their presence was extremely reassuring.

The common men who knew anything about mana and combat prowess in Aigas had been whispering among themselves, awed at how these armoured people all had purple cores and strikingly controlled mana. They were disciplined and they were gentle.

They had been moving around dispatching the dark creatures, healing wounds - even fatal wounds casually - and feeding them all delicious, stamina-granting foods that even brightened everyone's moods. Some even told stories to keep everyone entertained and they smiled a lot. The odd brands on their foreheads, constantly sparkling with lightning, always shone bright when they interacted with them.

It was bizarre.

The woman with the skinny daughter wondered where this fighting force had been all these years. The Capital Service, the Purity Knights, the Contract Knights. She had seen them all. Most were strong but cold, or kind but weak. Either way, they wouldn't be suited for the current Aigas, but these people...

"Ah, I wish I could be like them," someone from the large group said as he drank a curious, peach-coloured juice from a flask. "I can't say I'm not a little jealous that my little boy feels safer walking with one of them than with me, but jealousy be damned!"

A few around him laughed heartily.

A woman walking with her head on her husband's shoulder smiled shyly and looked up ahead, at the front of the formation of armoured figures.

What Task could that have been?

'Wait! Could this woman's master be a Deity?' he found himself wondering against all

common sense.

But Pherdanta didn't elaborate. Instead, she stopped and fixed her narrow eyes at something no else could see. The group stopped.

"What's this?" Pherdanta said.

"What's what?" the old man asked, alternating his gaze between the nothing ahead and Pherdanta. What could she see that he couldn't?

Pherdanta grabbed the hilt of Demion's Dance, but she did not draw the sword.

But even though she didn't, everyone, even the commonfolk behind her, heard the crisp whistle of a blade's edge cutting something. The sound was loud, and a little frightening, but even more harrowing was the effect it accompanied.

A neat, thin but humongous 'X' was drawn right beyond the formation of Stark Troops and a sound akin to a thunderclap followed. Something unseen screeched in pain. It was writhing, and soon it revealed itself. It was a huge bed of yellow snakes forming an ugly ball on the ground. About a third of them fell away, slashed to death, but those that remained hissed at Pherdanta and began repairing the odd shape they made.

The old man beside Pherdanta recoiled.

"By Quintess!" he cried. "What are these ungodly creatures?"

Pherdanta remained composed, as did the Stark Troops. Their collective calm diffused to the commonfolk, so much so that even though they had seen the atrocity ahead, they didn't panic.

The serpents were hiding something, Pherdanta discovered. She had seen a glimpse of what it was before the snakes restored their form.

Strangely, both the snakes and the object had a note of a presence vaguely similar to the new pressure her master exuded. On top of that, they were not alone.

Carven walked out from pools of darkness around the bed of snakes and brandished their weapons against her and the Stark Troops.