Accidental Ascendance

Chapter 39 Assault On The Capital 11: I’ll Stop Him

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The clash between the haunting magic armor-clad Kaid and the metallic sphinx was a spectacle of power and determination. The sphinx, transformed by magi-tech into a towering, destructive force, raged against its restraints, each movement threatening to crush anything in its path.

Kaid, now encased in the eerie black armor that seemed to meld with his very essence, stood his ground as the sphinx charged. The force of its impact sent him flying, his body skidding across the ground like a ragdoll. But the armor's magic held firm, and he rose quickly to his feet, unscathed.

The sphinx's rampage continued, its blows battering Kaid mercilessly. Each hit should have been bone-breaking, but the armor deflected the damage with an otherworldly resilience. Kaid's determination remained unshaken, his grip on his sword unwavering.

The sphinx lunged, its intention clear — to finish Kaid once and for all. Its massive paw came crashing down, the ground quaking with the force of the blow. But in that moment, Kaid's sword moved like lightning, a simple swing creating a whirlwind of magic-infused energy. The blade cut through the air with a resounding hum, and with a single strike, both of the sphinx's arms were severed.

The sphinx glowed with mana, its body regenerating its lost limbs. It was a relentless force, its power fueled by magi-tech that seemed almost endless. Yet, in the midst of the chaos, Kaid's distorted voice rang out.

"Sorry, it takes a lot for me not to go crazy in this form. I'll free you now..."

With those words, Kaid dashed forward, his movement a blur of speed that left a wake of destruction in its path. The street crumbled beneath him as he closed the distance in the blink of an eye. Before the sphinx could react, Kaid was upon it, a flurry of strikes that moved faster than the eye could see.

The haunting magic armor seemed to amplify his every move, each strike landing with precision and power. The sphinx's defenses crumbled under the onslaught, the magi-tech falling apart and dissipating like mist in the wind. And in the midst of the disintegrating armor, Lorelei fell, her body landing in the wreckage of the street.

Lorelei's heart raced as she stumbled to her feet, her gaze locked onto the approaching figure. But the sight that met her eyes left her frozen in shock. It was the embodiment of her deepest fears, the living nightmare that Fest had painted in tales and whispers—the Black Knight, the Raven of Death. The legends had come to life before her, and the stories that had circulated through her people now felt like haunting truths.

Lorelei's memories were a tapestry woven with threads of fear, uncertainty, and the tales that had circulated among her people. As she stood in the shadow of the Black Knight, those stories now seemed less like exaggerations and more like grim realities that had come to life.

The legends of the Black Knight, the Raven of Death, had been whispered in hushed tones around campfires and in the corners of Fest's dimly lit taverns. They were cautionary tales, tales meant to keep the hearts of the populace tethered to the will of the empire. They spoke of a lone warrior clad in black armor, a figure that had risen like an avenging specter against an overwhelming force.

Her mind traveled back to the chilling accounts she had heard as a child, tales told to frighten young mages into unwavering obedience. The story had begun on a battlefield far from the capital, where Fest had engaged the Union's defenses. It was said that the Wizard King himself had clashed with an opponent on the same level as an archmage of the Union—an opponent of exceptional power. The prolonged and bloody battle had allowed Fest to advance its forces, giving them an opportunity to breach the formidable Heavens Rift. All that had stood between them and victory was a lone fortress manned by a mere forty mages.

This was where the true terror of the tale emerged—a figure that had defied logic and shattered all expectations. The Black Knight had emerged from the shadows of obscurity, standing unyielding against Fest's formidable army of three thousand. With every swing of his blade, with every step he took, a path of destruction and death had followed. He became a living cataclysm, an impenetrable force of nature that the empire could not subdue.

Lorelei remembered hearing the details of the relentless siege, how Fest's most powerful spells and their mightiest warriors had proved futile against the Black Knight's resistance. They attacked in waves, their numbers dwarfing his lone figure, but every assault was met with defiance. The battlefield became a wasteland, a realm of ruin where the ravens circled like vultures, drawn by the promise of impending death.

In her memories, the Black Knight was a specter clad in a shroud of darkness, his armor a vessel of dread. The stories told of his unyielding defense, the way he deflected spells with seemingly minimal effort, and how his blade cleaved through enemies with ruthless precision. But most terrifying of all was the aura of invincibility that surrounded him, an aura that seemed to fuel his very being.

She recalled tales of him standing amidst a field of vanquished foes, his armor marred with the stains of their blood. The image of him, surrounded by the echoes of his victims, had left an indelible mark on her psyche. It was a haunting reminder that within the chaos and brutality of war, there existed forces that transcended the norm, beings that seemed to defy the very laws of existence.

As her thoughts returned to the present, Lorelei found herself face-to-face with the embodiment of those tales. The figure before her, the one who had shattered her curse and set her free, was the same figure who had held the empire at bay, who had stood resolute in the face of annihilation. Kaid, now the Black Knight, stood as a living legend, a testament to the stories that had once filled her with dread.

As Kaid raised his blade, the weapon she thought would end her life, she braced herself for the impact, her eyes clenching shut in anticipation. Yet, the blow didn't come. Instead, a rush of wind, an intense disturbance in the atmosphere, caused her to instinctively open her eyes. What she saw left her breathless—a visual marvel that defied logic. Kaid stood before her, his blade having cleaved through the very air, yet she remained untouched, the wind itself bending around her.

In that moment, it struck her—the curse that had ensnared her, the cruel magi-tech bond that had shackled her will, was gone. The realization washed over her like a cleansing wave. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with her astonishment and gratitude. Kaid's words, his stammering and emotion-laden speech, reverberated through her. "You can't pay me back for my armor if you are gone, so now you're free. Make sure t-to p-pay me b-back..."

Her voice trembled as she attempted to voice her thanks, but Kaid's raised hand quelled her attempt, and she held back her words. "Save it for now. Run. I can't hold it anymore. I have to f-find the king f-fast..."

Before she could process the urgency in his words, a surge of pitch-black magic engulfed Kaid. The force of it sent her stumbling backward, her body quivering as she struggled to keep her footing. Kaid's transformation was rapid, his demeanor shifting from the mild-mannered Kaid to a chaotic force of devastation. His movements were wild, his power uncontrollable, as he unleashed his might upon everything in his path.

Lorelei found her feet again, her concern for Kaid mounting as she witnessed his violent outburst. Her instinct to protect her savior ignited, and she was prepared to rush to his aid. Yet, a stern grip on her arm restrained her—Livian's hand.

Livian, the one who seemed to understand Kaid's volatile nature, stepped forward with an electrifying force, her grip on Kaid's blade halting his frenzied advance. She regarded Kaid with a knowing grin, her words carrying a tone of familiarity. "Oh, it's you... did you go berserk again, kid?" With an abrupt kick, she sent Kaid hurtling backward, his uncontrolled charge coming to an abrupt stop.

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