The 100 Days War - Chapter 14

Ever since Hilda had been baptised as the Satyr Knight, Mania had always wondered why the young woman was able to become so strong?

Was it because of her blood?

Was it because she had some inert power that simply needed to be unleashed?

Or was it a talent that could be trained and cultivated?

“I want…to…create more…like me.”

When Hilda approached Mania with her request, the succubus gladly approved of her plan.

If we can make more loyal, powerful warriors like Hilda, then the Demon Emperor will be most pleased!

So, Mania got Hilda everything she needed to create the Dread Knights.

After a brutal, eighty-day long training session, the first twenty Dread Knights were ready for deployment, just in time to test their strength against Count Barthlow’s forces.

***

Had Count Barthlow not seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed his men’s reports.

Seventeen soldiers had singlehandedly routed more than two thousand and they were showing no signs of slowing down.

With spears, glaives, swords, claymores, sabres, bows and magical staffs, they cut down groups of elite soldiers at a time.

The one at the front wielding two hook swords and, with every single interlocked spin, she was cutting down twenty men a second.

She unhooked her blades, then sliced five men in half with a single strike.

What in the world are they?

Demons?

Monsters?

Maybe one of the Demon Emperor’s generals?

Count Barthlow frowned. No…they resemble the reports of the Satyr Knight, but there’s only meant to be one of her.

“…They made more like her.”

“M-my lord?”

The count smiled bitterly. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what we have to do. Men! If we fail to defeat these seventeen monsters, then we lose our chance to take the Demon Emperor’s head and save all of Aangapea! I know it will be a difficult task and I know that many of us might not survive, but I believe that our sacrifices are more than a fair price to bring peace back to our world. All of you, with me!”

With a mighty roar, all of Count Barthlow’s knights rode towards the enemies at their back, swords drawn, spears raised, and yelling constantly at the top of their lungs.

In theory, they should be able to win, the count and his men understood that, but they couldn’t suppress the fear they felt in their hearts.

Even as they charged, more of their brothers in arms were dying or fleeing for their lives.

However, the count never got close.

The enemy leader, relocked her blades together, took three small steps forward, and adopted a strange pose that the count had never seen before.

Mana gathered around her blades as the rest of her companions stepped to one side.

Ah.

Arlan Barthlow couldn’t help but laugh.

…We won’t even touch them, will we?

Once they were within ten metres of the Dread Knight, she took one more step forward and spun, dragging her blades behind her in a beautiful, terrifying aqua-coloured arc.

The attack cut through their front lines, killing almost a hundred men in an instant.

Then, the Dread Knight spun again, cutting even more of them in two.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Until all five hundred riders and their lord, Count Arlan Barthlow, lay dead on the ground.

What followed next was exactly what the count had feared most - the complete collapse of his army.

Few stayed to fight as every man ran, choosing their own life over their comrades and their missions.

None wanted to die hundreds of miles of home to monsters they stood no chance of besting.

The lead Dread Knight stumbled and collapsed onto her knees, panting heavily as the mana deprivation caught up to her, sapping all of her energy.

“Good work, Una.”

“…Thank you, Tres.”

A Dread Knight wielding a glaive stood guard beside her as the rest of their fellow knights continued the massacre.

“…Do you think the Dark Lord will be happy with this result?”

“He will be. Don’t worry, we haven’t disappointed him. None of us have.”

Una dug her fingers into the dirt and took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

The Dread Knights were divided into two groups - those who were worthy to serve the Demon Emperor’s council, and those worthy to serve as the Demon Emperor’s personal knights alongside the Satyr Knight.

The Dread Knights were strong, but, per the Demon Emperor’s orders, they could be called upon by any of his generals to assist them in their work.

All of them except for the five strongest.

They were to be one of the Demon Emperor’s greatest weapons and his most loyal of followers, who only ever answered to his call and who never hesitated to act, much like how the Satyr Knight acted.

Una and Tres were two of that group; they were the Five-fingered Hand of the Demon Emperor and they were to be his greatest enforcers.

***

“I was waiting for you!”

“…Annoying.” Hilda leapt down from the tower and landed a few feet in front of Dante. “I thought…you’d died.”

“Heh, a pity, isn’t it?! Sorry to say, Satyr, but I’m back and.” He held up his brand-new silver arm. “I’m stronger than ever!”

An alchemist’s creation? Hilda sighed quietly, then spun her spear above her head three times.

Then, once it was back in both of her hands, she kicked off the fight.

In an instant, she closed the gap between them, her spear aimed at his heart. Dante reacted in time and blocked her attack with his new arm.

At first, Hilda had expected her spear to bounce off it; instead, it turned into a liquid, absorbed the tip and then solidified itself.

“Liquid…metal?”

“That’s right!”

Dante gathered energy around his boot using his arts, then kicked at Hilda’s stomach. She bent her back at an almost impossible angle to avoid the attack, then spun around on the ground to sweep Dante’s legs out from under him. He jumped over her attack, dislodged her spear from his arm, and swung at her neck with his scythe.

Hilda rolled away from his attack, and the follow-up attack, before jumping back onto her feet.

The three Dread Knights behind her moved to act, but she held up her hand to them.

“Rescue…Cain and…Lucy. Then, defeat…Augustus.”

The Dread Knights wordlessly acted on her orders.

“Don’t be so arrogant, Satyr,” Dante bellowed, placing his boot over her spear. “You might’ve won last time, but that’s because I’d exhausted myself fighting your boss.”

“Do not address…the…emperor...so disrespect…fully”

Dante grinned. “Does that upset you?”

Hilda flexed her fingers and then slowly walked towards Dante, purposefully leaving herself vulnerable to attacks. She had relaxed her guard so much that Dante was thrown off and cautious to make a move.

If he struck now, there was little his opponent could do to block his attacks.

However.

That’s what she wants me to think. It’s like Barthlow said; the enemy wants us to underestimate them.

Once she was five metres away, Dante moved.

First, using the energy he’d secretly gathered with his arts, Dante dashed towards Hilda faster than a lightning bolt. Then, using the remainder of that energy, he unleashed a flurry of powerful slashes at her, but Hilda was able to dodge every single one.

She ducked, shifted her body and danced between every strike, then landed a single punch on Dante’s abdomen, throwing him off balance.

It hadn’t been a particularly powerful punch, but it was enough of a shock to stun Dante for a few moments.

Using that precious time, Hilda rolled behind Dante, reclaimed her spear and swiped at his back. Dante narrowly moved in time to avoid the blow, before leaping several feet away from Hilda. Hilda pursued him relentlessly, stabbing and slashing at alternating parts of Dante’s body, but never in the same order.

She would strike at his left side, then his right, then his legs and finally towards his head; then, she would strike in a different order, keeping Dante constantly on the defensive.

However, Dante had seen this pattern before at Themis and had learnt from that time.

After getting his new arm, Dante had trained several times with Kella, asking her to perform the same series of strikes for an hour at a time.

He was not only able to block each blow, but he was able to slowly start seeing gaps where he could strike back.

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

Wait…Now!

As Hilda thrust her spear at Dante’s neck, Dante sidestepped her attack, let go of his scythe, and grabbed the shaft of her spear. He held it with a vice-like grip, preventing Hilda from breaking it free, then, threw his metal arm at her chest. The arm liquidised and reshaped itself as a long-sword and it found its mark.

The sword lunged into Hilda’s chest, right where her heart was, but it was only able to scratch the armour and bounce off.

What?!

Hilda recovered from the shock of the blunt force that bruised her chest, and took one hand off her spear. She then pulled a dagger out from its sheath on her lower back and cut at Dante’s lungs, but Dante’s arm changed form into a shield and blocked the blow. She then swept at his legs again, followed by a thrust at his hand trapping her blade, but Dante avoided both attacks.

Realising that he couldn’t break Hilda’s defences with his arm, Dante tried to retreat, taking his scythe and her spear with him, but Hilda wouldn’t budge. Angrily, Dante released her weapon, reclaimed his and retreated back a few metres once again.

“Where the fuck did you get dragon-metal armour?”

“It was…a gift from…the emperor.”

“Well, once you’re dead, I’ll be taking it to an artisan smith to reforge-”

Dante blinked and Hilda was right in front of his face, her spear about to pierce his heart.

Dante’s arm reacted and a liquid wall formed to block the blow, but the tip pierced it and drew a few drops of blood.

Dante raged and used his arts to blast Hilda away with a powerful blast of wind. She had been caught off guard, allowing Dante to slice across her stomach, drawing a thin line of blood from beneath her armour.

I think I touched a nerve, Dante mused with a thin smile.