Chapter 35: Rescue

The black thread shot toward Luo Ling’s back like a venomous snake, so precise and fast that even the air had no time to scream.

He could feel the shadow of death swallow him in an instant, every hair on his body standing on end.

He wanted to dodge, but his body was as heavy as lead.

He could only watch helplessly as the fatal strike descended.

“No——!”

A heart-wrenching scream erupted from the side.

A figure dashed over like an arrow loosed from a bow, using his own body to shield Luo Ling.

“Pu chi!”

A soft sound, like fabric being pierced.

The black thread passed through the figure’s chest without resistance, carrying a strange tint of blood as it retracted to the top of the city wall.

Luo Ling snapped back to his senses and saw a familiar young face.

It was his promoted Captain, Mark, who had always admired him and yearned to fight as he did.

At this moment, Mark’s eyes were wide open, filled with disbelief and a hint of…relief?

He looked at Luo Ling, his lips moving as if he wanted to speak, but in the end, only blood spilled from his mouth as he collapsed, life quickly fading.

“Mark!”

Luo Ling’s eyes widened with grief and rage.

A torrent of guilt and sorrow surged in his chest.

He instinctively embraced Mark’s gradually cooling body.

A power beyond words flooded his entire being, and the sense of restriction disappeared.

Mark’s sacrifice had bought him a crucial moment of life, shattering the invisible bind.

On the city wall, the Black Robe seemed stunned for a moment, then let out an almost inaudible cold snort.

That icy gaze shifted away from Luo Ling, as if it had lost interest.

Holding Mark’s corpse, Luo Ling was overcome with pain, but he knew now was not the time for grief.

The time Mark bought with his life could not be wasted!

“Revenge for Mark!!!”

Luo Ling roared to the sky, blood-red streaks in his voice.

He laid Mark down gently and gripped “Dawn” once more.

Only frenzied killing intent remained in his eyes.

“Kill!!!”

Like a demon, he led the knight battalion in an even fiercer assault.

Wherever the sword light reached, demons fell in droves.

Yet, deprived of the Black Robe’s attention, the demons’ resistance grew even more desperate.

The battle became a stalemate.

Though the Human Alliance Army had numbers, the Demon King City’s shield was unbreakable.

The city gate was a spring overflowing with monsters; no matter how many were slain, more poured out.

Casualties in the Alliance soared, and once-high morale began to falter.

Luo Ling led his forces through the demon ranks, searching for a flaw in the gate or a way to destroy the shield’s Energy Source.

All attempts were in vain.

Each approach to the gate met with even more ferocious attacks from the wall and within the city.

Time slipped by.

The sun sank westward.

Dusk arrived.

It should have been a signal for the Human Alliance Army to rest or withdraw, but faced with the endless tide of demons, retreat was impossible.

They could only fight on to the death.

Luo Ling was drenched in blood, his strength exhausted.

His armor was battered in many places, and his body bore several wounds—not fatal, but blood loss and fatigue blurred his vision.

The glow of the “Dawn” sword had dimmed greatly.

He knew this couldn’t continue.

The Alliance offensive had become a spent force.

If they didn’t retreat now, they’d be slaughtered to the last man.

He had to get word to the rear, to request a withdrawal and revise tactics.

Just as he prepared to break through and deliver the order, a new change erupted!

The once-impenetrable blood-red shield suddenly shone brilliantly, no longer passively defending, but expanding outward!

A massive repulsive force burst from the shield, like an invisible giant hand shoving the Alliance soldiers assaulting the city!

“Ah——!”

Rows of soldiers were hurled away by the force, formations collapsing instantly.

Siege Engines toppled, Cloud Ladders shattered, and any advantage just gained vanished.

“Retreat! Retreat now!”

The frontline commander’s voice was hoarse with desperation.

Defeat is like a landslide.

Once the formation breaks, panic spreads like a plague.

The soldiers who had fought to the death moments ago now thought only of escaping this nightmare.

The entire Alliance vanguard shifted from organized attack to chaotic rout in a heartbeat.

Luo Ling tried to stop it, but he too was swept backward by the torrent of fleeing men.

The knights around him dwindled, more and more trampled as the panicked masses surged past.

“Hold the line! Don’t break! Hold formation!”

Luo Ling’s roars were swallowed by the shrieks of fleeing soldiers and the pursuing demons.

In the chaos, he felt the icy gaze again.

On the city wall, the Black Robe still stood, a cold spectator to the one-sided massacre.

Suddenly, several more black threads shot out from the wall—this time, not at Luo Ling, but at the Alliance officers rallying resistance!

“Marshal, look out!”

“General!”

Cries of alarm rang out as several senior commanders fell, severing the Alliance’s last hopes of coordinated defense.

The rout was now irreversible.

Luo Ling was carried farther back by the fleeing crowd.

He watched comrades fall, watched the iron flood that had seemed invincible scatter like a rabble, and his heart filled with helpless rage.

Why? The plan was perfect, the Alliance so strong—how did defeat come so swiftly, so utterly?

Lost in turmoil, Luo Ling’s foot caught on something, and he crashed to the ground.

Countless feet trampled past.

He even felt a cold blade brush his scalp.

Is it over?

He closed his eyes, despair rising.

Even the flames of vengeance seemed to fade.

Then—a hand seized his arm and yanked him upright.

“Come with me!”

A low, hoarse voice sounded in his ear.

Luo Ling opened his eyes to see a man in a regular soldier’s armor, face smeared with mud and blood.

He couldn’t make out the features, but the scent was familiar…

Samuel?!

Before he could react, the man dragged him behind the ruins of an abandoned Attack Tower.

Outside was a hell of screaming, killing, and fleeing, but behind the rubble, a narrow dead angle formed—a fleeting sanctuary.

“You…”

Luo Ling began to speak.

“Shut up!”

Samuel covered his mouth and pointed outside.

“Make a sound if you want to die.”

Through the cracks, Luo Ling saw demon pursuers surging by like a black tide, oblivious to this tiny corner.

Samuel released his hand, fished out a small vial from his chest, and tossed it to Luo Ling.

“Drink it. It’ll hide you from the demons for a while.”

Luo Ling hesitated, but uncorked the vial and downed the liquid.

It was spicy, with an odd taste, but he quickly felt his body lighten, the scent of blood and life fading from him.

“Why save me?”

He asked quietly, his voice hoarse.

Samuel glanced at him, eyes deep and unreadable.

“I didn’t save the Empire’s Vanguard Luo Ling, but someone who…still has a chance.”

“What do you mean?”

Samuel didn’t answer.

He pointed to the distant chaos.

“Your army is finished—a crushing defeat. ‘Vanguard Luo Ling’, it’s best to ‘die’ here while you can…heh.”