Wright took a Blue Crystal from his pocket and placed it in Li Qiuchen’s hand, then was the first to rush out of the temple.
Li Qiuchen gripped the Blue Crystal, and together with Jocelyn, who picked up the Storage Pouch, followed closely behind.
The Patrol Squad’s reaction was even faster.
A group of light cavalry in leather armor were the first to arrive at the battlefield.
Kaili and the Monster had fought from the second floor of the tavern down to the street.
The Monster’s massive feet left deep pits in the stone-paved road.
In the darkness of the street, Kaili struggled like a nimble butterfly, while the Monster was a clumsy giant.
Their struggle was anything but fair.
Kaili’s dagger could only leave shallow marks on the beast’s thick, armor-like hide, while a casual swipe from the Monster, carrying a vicious wind, could tear apart walls with ease.
This thing had traded life and sanity for forbidden power—it was clearly not something that could be resisted by courage and skill alone.
The Patrol Squad’s cavalry raised their spears and launched the first volley at the Monster.
Because of poor visibility, most spears landed in the ground.
Only one well-aimed spear was caught by the Monster and thrown back.
It shot like a giant arrow, piercing straight through a tall warhorse’s chest, then nailed itself into a shop wall like a bloody javelin.
The horse, still in a charging stance, collapsed into a heap as if its bones had been ripped out by the gods.
The knight atop was thrown heavily to the ground.
“Careful!”
Kaili dragged the knight by the shoulder, retreating at full speed.
The spot where the knight had been was smashed into a crater by the Monster’s descending foot.
Everyone clearly felt the ground tremble.
“Throw all the torches over! We’ll use skirmisher tactics to distract it!”
The Patrol Squad captain shouted hoarsely, rallying the formation.
Torches were hurled at the enemy, and residents, gathering their courage, took firewood from fireplaces and threw it into the street.
At last, the Monster’s terrifying form was illuminated.
The light cavalry regrouped.
This time, they no longer wasted valuable spears on wild throws.
Instead, they brandished lances and shields, using their horses’ mobility to circle and harass the Monster like mosquitoes around a giant bear, trying to draw its attention and create an opening for Kaili.
The tactic had some effect.
The Monster swung its claws in rage, smashing roadside stalls into flying splinters.
Bystanders screamed and fled.
Some unlucky militia knights were struck and flung away, crashing heavily to the ground.
In the chaos, a trembling figure appeared at the broken edge of the tavern’s second floor.
It was Kairui.
He stared at the nightmare unfolding below.
He saw Kaili forced to retreat by the Monster, blood trailing from her lips, and then glanced at Naili beside him, face deathly pale, clutching his sleeve.
A mixture of terror, shame, and a desperate kind of courage erupted inside him.
Almost by instinct, he drew the Magic Staff he had bought at the academy, poured his mana into it, and fired a Magic Missile at the Monster’s back.
It was no bigger than the one he’d used against Li Qiuchen in the alley.
“Boom!”
The Magic Missile exploded against the Monster’s thick hide, like a dull firecracker.
It dealt almost no damage, but completely seized the Monster’s attention.
Those mindless, crimson eyes instantly locked onto the “little insect” on the second floor daring to provoke it.
“Roar——!”
The Monster unleashed a deafening howl, abandoning both the troublesome Kaili and the annoying cavalry.
Like a runaway siege ram, it smashed into the tavern’s support pillars, making the entire second floor shake violently.
Its huge arms burst through the wall.
Massive claws swept toward the petrified Kairui and Naili.
“No.”
In that instant, all of Kairui’s arrogance and scheming vanished.
He shoved Naili behind him, facing the deadly claws with his own back.
He closed his eyes.
And the last image that flashed through his mind was Naili’s childhood smile as she offered him a wild berry.
But the agony he expected never came.
Instead, there was a sharp crack tearing through the night!
“Whizz—Thud!”
A cavalry lance from the shadows at the corner of the street thundered like lightning, piercing through the Monster’s raised elbow joint with unerring accuracy!
The immense force not only tore flesh but sent the Monster’s massive body stumbling backward.
Hooves thundered.
A towering figure on a warhorse clad in dark armor burst through the night, charging into the fray like a Knight from ancient epic.
It was the Horn Baron!
He didn’t even glance at his rescued son or at Naili.
Clad in patterned plate armor, with icy, eagle-sharp eyes peering from his helm’s slit, his gaze never left the Monster.
He took another lance from a guard, the motion as smooth as breathing.
This was true cavalry warfare, far from a street brawl.
It was the dance of death—a weapon at the peak of cold-iron battlefield artistry.
He remembered his instructor’s lesson when first wielding a knight’s lance:
“Idiots, a lance isn’t some unbreakable lever. At the moment of impact, use your waist, arms, and the horse’s charge to drive the tip precisely into your target’s weak spot.”
“And at the instant of contact, release your grip to avoid shattering your arm with the recoil, or cleverly transfer the force, using your horse’s momentum to tear the wound open further…”
“Every thrust walks the edge of uncontrollable death. I hope you’ll all be a lucky bunch of idiots.”
The corner of Horn’s mouth curled beneath his visor.
He’d been the luckiest idiot among his fellow knight squires.
The Monster roared and turned, trying to pounce on this new, greater threat.
But Horn didn’t clash head-on.
Controlling his mount, he swept past in a flawless arc, and as they crossed, his lance struck like a dragon, piercing the Monster’s knee!
“Roar!”
The Monster collapsed to one knee, howling in pain.
Horn didn’t pause.
It was as if he’d returned to that afternoon years ago, reaching out his hand to a girl, feeling just as strong, just as young.
Back then, he was a penniless farm boy, hopelessly in love with the sheriff’s daughter.
She would boss him around:
“Hey, clean my saddle for me.”
“As you wish.”
“Boy, fill all these water buckets… and hurry up.”
“As you wish.”
“As you wish” was probably the phrase he’d spoken most to her.
Until one day she realized that when he looked at her and said “As you wish,” it actually meant “I love you.”
More astonishing still, she realized she loved him back.
The penniless farm boy threw himself into the torrents of fate for love’s sake.
He could no longer remember how he’d managed to survive mountain after mountain of corpses and blood, slaying monstrous demons.
He did it all just to be worthy of her, to have a chance to say to that distant, star-like lady: “As you wish.”
But when he finally returned, a hero on horseback, the woman he loved was about to become another’s bride—the local Viscount’s daughter-in-law.
Horn had intended only to glimpse her from afar, perhaps say goodbye if fate allowed.
But as his horse passed the wedding carriage, she recognized him at once.
She reached out her hand.
In that moment, all rules, all etiquette, vanished.
Driven by the instincts forged in war, he seized the hand he’d dreamed of, pulling her from the carriage into his embrace and riding away.
It was the craziest and most correct decision of his life.
“Thud!”
Another lance, driven by unwavering resolve, plunged into the Monster’s gaping mouth and out through its skull!
The massive body stiffened, then crashed to the ground, raising a storm of dust.
Its form slowly reverted, the bald, fat man’s body pierced by three knight lances, a pile of bloody, ruined flesh.
All around, residents and cavalry erupted in cheers of survival.
Baron Horn reined in his warhorse, casually tossed the bloodied lance to a guard, and took a fresh one with the ease of someone finishing a routine hunt.
He didn’t even look at the Monster’s corpse.
His gaze landed directly on Kaili, who was barely holding herself upright with a dagger, kneeling and gasping for breath.
A beautiful yet stubborn girl, unlike her, forever gentle and graceful.
After they fled the arranged marriage, they’d come to this town.
He protected its peace, earned the title of Baron through military merits serving under Count Lone Eagle.
This small town was all the beautiful memories they had.
He looked back at the ruined road, his world-weary eyes filled with sorrow.
Kaili wiped the blood from her mouth.
Her emerald eyes showed no gratitude—only cold suspicion.
She glared at Horn, her voice low but piercing through the now-quiet air.
“Baron… were these people sent by you?”
Horn’s gaze sharpened instantly, like an ice pick.
“Miss Demon Hunter,” his voice was deep and oppressive, “you’ll pay the price for your baseless accusation.”
“Baseless?”
Kaili sneered.
Though battered, she stood tall.
She had come here tasked with investigating the missing persons case, and when all suspicions pointed toward the Baron, she was suddenly attacked.
When the Monster knelt in agony, Horn’s final, merciless lance seemed, to her, more like an attempt to silence a witness.
She had never feared her enemies.
The teachings of the Temple of the God of War taught her to respect powerful foes—but to despise those who attacked from the shadows.
“They knew my identity… the letter of commission. Besides you, the Baron who holds military power and tried to block the mine investigation, who else could it be…”
Her words abruptly stopped.
Horn moved!
He reversed his lance and, wielding it like an iron rod, smashed the butt into Kaili’s chest and abdomen with blinding speed!
“Urgh!”
Kaili had no time to react.
She was sent flying like a broken kite, crashing to the ground, struggling to get up but failing.
Wright, who had just arrived, reached into his coat, ready to rush forward.
He could not tolerate anyone treating an “emissary of the Temple of the God of War” like this.
But a hand pressed his shoulder.
Li Qiuchen shook his head slightly at Wright, signaling him not to be rash.
If someone was truly enraged, they would attack as a warning, not use a lance to interrupt another’s speech.
Thus, the truth was that Baron Horn was actually very rational—he acted only to maintain dignity in the face of Kaili’s provocation.
Wright stepping forward would only make things worse.
For the sake of the Blue Crystal, Li Qiuchen muttered to himself.
Under everyone’s gaze, he stepped forward and stood directly in front of the Baron’s lance, still pointed at Kaili.
“Baron,”
Li Qiuchen wore his usual “reliable” smile, which seemed particularly ill-timed at the moment.
His tone was calm.
“Miss Kaili is gravely wounded and just survived a life-and-death battle. It’s natural for her mind to be in turmoil and suspect things.”
“You are so noble—why bother with a wounded person?”
Horn’s eyes burned like red-hot brands, fixed on Li Qiuchen’s face.
His grip on the lance tightened.
This sudden Northerner—this detestable composure…
He was almost certain that this man’s shadow lay behind many things.
“I know,”
Baron Horn’s voice came out through gritted teeth, like a beast driven to a cliff.
“I know, some among you are waiting for tomorrow.”
His sharp gaze swept over Li Qiuchen, over Jocelyn at his side, over the struggling Kaili, and finally toward the town lord’s mansion.
“Very well, I…”
He almost bit the words out.
“I am waiting, too.”
With that, he ignored everyone, spun his horse around, and left.
His guards followed.
Iron hooves rang on the shattered road.
Wright clapped, leaving a heavy silence in the dead of night.
It would be another sleepless night.
***
Taya Cultural Notes:
[Magic Staff]
Origin Hypothesis: The mainstream scholarly consensus holds that the tradition of the Magic Staff originates from the ancient practice of mortals imitating the spellcasting postures of gods.
Upon witnessing gods summon thunder or command floods with a gesture, mortals would break off tree branches, attempting to reproduce those sacred movements, believing that certain shapes and materials better “aligned” with the laws of nature.
Thus began the first Magic Staff.
Historical Development and Symbolism:
Before magic became widespread, whether one held a Magic Staff was a key distinction between “Magician” and “Warlock.”
The former relied on the staff as a medium, emphasizing precision, control, and heritage.
The latter favored drawing upon their own bloodline or resonance with natural elements, casting spells barehanded.
Magicians with staffs often prided themselves as “orthodox.”
Modern Usage:
For most beginners and even intermediate spellcasters, a high-quality Magic Staff remains indispensable.
It focuses the mind, stabilizes mana output, and its core often serves as a miniature “reserve spell material vault.”
Common core fillings include:
· Sulfur Powder: The most basic fire-element spell catalyst, cheap and direct.
· Volcanic Ash: Contains a wilder earth-fire force, often used for enhancing explosive spells.
· Specific Crystal Powder: Used to impart unique properties or replenish mana, preferred in custom high-end Magic Staffs.
[Note] There are rumors that Philosopher Mage Allen once filled his Magic Staff with Quicklime, allowing for so-called “quick-casting” and even flinging lime into his opponent’s eyes during battle.
This also sparked debate over whether Magicians must always use Magic…