Chapter 59: Chapter 47: You Have a Broader Stage, Reinhardt

While guarding Frostfire Fortress, Reinhardt had witnessed the Abyss Demon Army on the Northern Icefield, an endless, oppressive, and deathly silent horde.

But now, standing on the earthen and stone walls of Baihe Town—walls that looked like a strong gust of wind could topple them—and gazing out at the boundless Northern Grassland and the unbroken chain of the Dark Grey Mountain Range, he couldn’t begin to count how many soldiers the Scaya Dragonfolk had amassed. They were a tide of death, swallowing the land.

’Ten times the strength of the Abyss Legion?’

’Or more?’

Bloodstains, not yet fully dry, clung to Reinhardt’s body. At his feet, a Scaya Dragon Descendant rider, over two meters tall, was still clinging to life.

It had a draconic head on a humanoid body, covered in fine, dark red scales, with sharp spikes protruding from its joints.

The Flame Wave Red Dragon, a behemoth with a wingspan of over six meters, lay nearby. This unique Mixed-Blood Flying Dragon from the Scaya Realm could melt steel with its Dragon Breath, but its head was now completely shattered and caved in.

The scorching dragon blood corroded the stone bricks, flowing past Reinhardt’s feet.

The Dragon Descendant rider, his jaw shattered, tried to draw a dagger for a final, desperate struggle against the Human Knight who had dragged him down from his mount.

But his efforts were futile.

To an ordinary Dragon Descendant soldier, this young Knight who had once struggled so desperately at Frostfire Fortress was now a terrifying mountain, pressing down so hard it couldn’t breathe.

Reinhardt mercilessly crushed the Dragon Descendant’s neck with his boot. He took a deep breath and activated his Morphic Armor. A dark purple, living substance seeped from his skin, twisting and spreading to cover his body as high-pressure sacs breathed silently.

He bent down and pulled his weapon from the corpse of the Flame Wave Red Dragon, dragon blood running down the blade.

The Giant Axe was the size of a door panel. A large chunk was missing from the blade, but this didn’t diminish its killing power. In fact, it now looked even more like his old favorite weapon—the Black Cutter.

’The weapon of a Divine King!’

’A true man’s weapon!’

’Time to be a badass with a giant axe!’ 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Perhaps the ordinary Dragon Descendant soldiers were simply too weak; the dark red blood mark of the Steel of the Heart didn’t even deign to appear on these members of the Alien Race.

Their only purpose was to grant 1 Slaughter Point, fueling the Imperial Technology Enhancement for his Black Cutter.

Faint blue text scrolled through Reinhardt’s vision.

[Slaughter Points +1.]

[Armor Piercing: Accumulate 30 Slaughter Points.]

[Solid: Accumulate 60 Slaughter Points.]

[Anti-Magic: Accumulate 90 Slaughter Points.]

His original plan was for this composite-steel Giant Axe, which lacked any Imperial Technology enhancements, to be just a stopgap weapon.

Once he had enough money, he would get himself a more respectable weapon.

After all, infusing a weapon with Imperial Technology was a massive expense!

Although the Knight Tier was the Empire’s transcendent nobility, their system was entirely separate from the Empire’s economy.

Reinhardt’s only income was the ten Radiant Gold Coins he received from the Imperial treasury each month.

That amount was enough to support an ordinary family for a year, but for Knights like him, a top-tier weapon enhanced with Imperial Technology would cost at least five thousand Radiant Gold Coins.

As for the standard-issue weapons distributed by the Legions, to a Knight, they were good for little more than chopping firewood.

Hundreds of years ago, the Imperial Regency Council had used the Imperial treasury to provide custom weapons to the Knights of the Imperial Legions free of charge.

Unfortunately, the policy lasted less than thirty years before it created a severe and unbearable budget deficit, and was ultimately abandoned.

However, the policy of confiscating a Knight’s weapons upon their death was dutifully upheld. After all, any weapon custom-made for a Knight was not only incredibly valuable but also posed a significant threat.

Reinhardt had no great noble family or Imperial merchant backing him, even if his strength had been acknowledged by the arena champion, Heinrich.

Thus, it was still very difficult for him to obtain more Radiant Gold Coins through legal means.

He had previously asked to fight his way out alongside Heinrich, but the man had refused. His reasoning was sound enough: there was no place for Reinhardt in the Dark Gold Blood Knights.

Besides, the Iron Blood Battle Group needed Heinrich’s strength to minimize their losses and survive this war.

Most importantly, the Dragon Descendants were not the same as Abyssal Demons.

As a graduate of the Steel Knight Order, Reinhardt’s training and knowledge made him an expert at fighting the Abyss Legion, but he severely lacked experience against Dragon Descendants. If he charged out rashly and got surrounded, the Scaya Dragon Race Army could overwhelm and kill him through sheer numbers, no matter how powerful he was.

The Hearn Territory shared a border with Scaya in some areas.

While at Frostfire Fortress, Reinhardt had occasionally heard rumors about the Scaya Dragon Descendants from the garrison.

This ancient race, with primeval power flowing through their veins, was skilled in using traditional elemental Energy. Their fine scales possessed an extremely high resistance to Extraordinary Power.

An ordinary One-star Official Knight, especially one whose Power was aspected to the Elemental Domain, would have trouble even breaking through the scales of these alien creatures.

And the Pure-blood Dragonfolk warriors—the tribal chieftains—were powerful beings on par with Four-star Earth Knights!

With powerful bodies over three meters tall and the techniques of ancient ancestors flowing in their blood, they were born with terrifying combat instincts and a lust for slaughter!

A single Pure-blood Dragonfolk warrior could easily annihilate a full-strength, thousand-man Imperial Infantry Legion.

By contrast, a Four-star Earth Knight of equal power, facing a thousand-strong army of Scaya Dragonfolk, would likely perish under the relentless onslaught and elemental torment.

In this battle, they had no Imperial Infantry Corps to provide support or hold the front line.

It was just as Reinhardt had learned in his very first lesson at the training camp: Knights were ultimately the Empire’s final resort, an elite force meant to counter powerful enemy individuals.

Never attempt to sway the outcome of a grand war with individual strength.

On the grand battlefields where armies numbered in the tens of millions, across the thousands of worlds within the Empire, the Infantry Legions formed by Mortals were the absolute cornerstone of the Empire’s victories, time and time again.

However, during the pre-battle meeting of the Iron Blood Battle Group’s Ninth Tactical Squad, Dietlinde had given Reinhardt permission to act alone.

In her own words:

"You have a broader stage, Reinhardt."

Even if one couldn’t decide the outcome of a massive war, a powerful Knight could absolutely be the deciding factor in a localized battle!

A one-man army!

When the vanguard of the Scaya Dragon Race Army reached Baihe Town, the low earthen walls collapsed with a thunderous crash upon impact.

As the first of the Scaya Dragonfolk emerged from the billowing dust and smoke, letting out a high-pitched screech in a language unintelligible to humans, its eyes locked onto the lone, dark purple figure standing amidst the ruins of the wall.

The Scaya Dragonfolk infantryman’s expression was savage and bloodthirsty.

Its chest swelled abruptly as a bone-chilling, deadly power gathered in its mouth.

But in the next second, a torrential blast of air kicked up the dust, and the dark purple figure had somehow appeared right in front of it.

The Dragonfolk’s vertical, brownish-yellow pupils shrank. It had been about to unleash the frigid breath from its mouth, but a pair of hands like iron pincers clamped down hard on its long, narrow, crocodile-like snout.

Beneath the shifting, dark purple mask, it couldn’t see its opponent’s face. But the excruciating pain and terrifying strength crushing its own face wordlessly conveyed one imminent truth.

Death!