System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 213
The dense storm clouds, the lightning, the thunder, all vanished in an instant. The sky cleared again, and the doomsday vision dissolved like smoke.
Unfortunately, Azar Javed’s severed head had rolled right into the middle of the battlefield, to the feet of Rudolf, commander of the Order of the White Rose of Ellander.
The burly man stared at the familiar face on the ground, his expression blank. Not long ago, Azar had still been full of swagger, painting a splendid blueprint of capturing the Lady of the Lake, receiving a lavish reward from His Majesty, and becoming Ban Ard’s rising star.
Now his head and body lay apart.
“So Master Azar is gone just like that. Was this whole operation a mistake?”
Rudolf’s beard trembled faintly. His fingers clamped so hard around the hilt of his sword that the knuckles whitened. Even their greatest trump card had been destroyed, so what right did the Order have now to oppose the Lady of the Lake?
At the same moment, every Vodyanoi and Drowner on Black Gull Island came back to their senses. Baring teeth and claws, shrieking hideously, they pressed once more toward the White Rose Knights in the center.
After a brutal fight, the original thirty-odd Knights had been cut down by more than half. Only a little over ten remained, every one of them drenched in blood and worn to exhaustion. They still stubbornly drew together into a knot, longswords held before their chests. They had killed twice their own number of enemies, yet they could not change the outcome of the battle.
“Gods ... Father of the Sky, Lebioda, Eternal Fire, Melitele, save us...”
The Knights kept praying, but the gods they longed for gave no answer.
Instead, a graceful figure appeared out of thin air. With one small, pale hand, she saved every life there. The Vodyanoi and Drowners froze at once, like soldiers who had heard a command.
“The Lady of the Lake?!”
The Knights cried out.
Floating in midair was a woman with long, lake-green hair, astonishing beauty, and an enormous tail of brilliant, iridescent scales. Her smile was gentle. Sunlight gilded her delicate features in radiant color, drawing every eye and holding it fast.
“Warriors of the White Rose, lay down your weapons. You have misunderstood me.”
Her voice was sweet and soft, like the greeting of a loved one, reaching straight into the soul, brushing away fatigue and tension, making people lower their guard before they even knew they had.
Several of the Knights looked dazed with enchantment. Not even their dimeritium necklaces could spare them from the Lady of the Lake’s Charisma.
The few who remained clear-headed looked to their leader.
Rudolf said nothing. His face twisted with conflict.
High Priest Adda strode quickly to the Lady of the Lake and bowed before her.
Their eyes met for an instant, and she understood the goddess’s will at once.
“Knights of the White Rose, Azar Javed’s death was entirely his own doing. He deserved it!”
“But you, from beginning to end, were kept in the dark. That is why the goddess grants you special mercy.” Adda’s narrow eyes swept over one weary face after another as she urged them softly on. “Lost lambs, all you need do is cast aside your weapons, repent sincerely, and drink the Holy Water. Then you shall be redeemed.”
“Those who accept redemption will return to Vizima alive,” Adda declared loudly. “I give you my word, I will persuade His Majesty to remit all punishment!”
Three of them wavered. Their taut bodies loosened. But the moment they lowered their eyes and saw the corpses of their comrades strewn all around, they tightened their grips on their swords again.
She pressed further.
“Think of your parents, your wives, your children. Is it worth throwing away your lives for a dead and evil Sorcerer?!”
Rudolf sighed at that and stepped straight out from among his men.
“The tide has turned. There is no point in useless sacrifice...” A flash of resolve passed through his eyes. “Drop your weapons. All of you.”
“Commander?!” Several Knights crowded around him, faces full of bitterness. “Are our brothers to have died for nothing?!”
“Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I said?”
“Knights of the White Rose, all of you, drop your weapons!”
“You mean to disobey orders?!” Rudolf glared at them one by one, his gaze severe.
With no choice left, the Knights removed their swords and hand crossbows and threw them to the ground at a distance. A few of them also let out quiet sighs of relief.
“Now step back. All of you, step back!” Rudolf drove his men away, then dropped to one knee, pleading written plain across his face. “Your Highness, you have won this time. But only I and Sorcerer Azar were at fault. The Knights of the White Rose were only following orders. They knew nothing of the truth.”
“Please, spare them.”
“Of course. I gave my word. So long as they repent, I will let bygones be bygones.”
“Good...”
Rudolf let out a breath and straightened. His gaze swept over the Lady of the Lake hovering in the air like a deity, a hidden trace of helplessness passing through his eyes. Then he turned and fixed on the young Witcher.
He had noticed this man kill several of his brothers. He was a formidable foe, and a rare opponent.
Rudolf’s fingers tightened once more around the hilt of his sword.
Anyone else could surrender, but not him.
He stood for the honor and backbone of the White Rose.
“Your Highness, I have one final request!”
“Speak!”
“Before I die, I want a fair duel!”
The moment the words left him, without waiting for the woman’s answer, he abandoned the other Knights and charged the young Witcher, sword in hand.
Several Knights, jolted by the sudden turn, instinctively rushed after him.
Then a sigh drifted into their ears. The Lady of the Lake, still hovering above them, blew softly toward the crowd.
Her breath fell to the ground.
The thing was uncanny. Several thick vines burst from the earth and wrapped around their ankles like starving pythons, spreading fast, binding them tight from head to foot until only their eyes remained exposed.
And so they were left to watch the battle in the middle of the field.
“Watch carefully. The Knight of King Foltest of Vizima, and my Knight, which of them is stronger? This is a fair Swordsmanship Duel, one that concerns honor and life. No one may interfere!”
Bald Letho stood with arms folded, watching beside the bound White Rose Knights. A grave look flashed in his amber eyes.
“Kid, don’t go dying too easily.”
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