School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 175 --The Sudden Appearance of a Demon

After observing the supply convoy for a moment, Owen summoned Quentin, instructing him to keep an eye on the army to see if anyone suspicious had infiltrated their ranks.

Owen did not personally meet with the commander; he had more pressing matters to attend to, pondering over the short staff in his hand.

After a period of interrogation, Isaac finally made progress.

"My lord, he has confessed!"

Isaac was experienced in these matters, and Owen knew it was only a matter of time before the prisoner would reveal what he knew.

"What did he say?" Owen inquired.

Isaac leaned in, whispering, "Termination Forest, clues about the sacred sword... and that red light..."

A look of shock crossed Owen’s face upon hearing mention of the sacred sword of dragons.

Legend had it that the sacred sword possessed the power to destroy heavens and earth but had vanished into the annals of history, unheard of for thousands of years.

Many dragons even believed the sacred sword never existed.

Owen became more solemn, asking earnestly, "You’re saying there are clues to the sacred sword in Termination Forest?"

"And this short staff is the key to finding the sacred sword..." Isaac hesitated.

"Well... that’s what he said."

Isaac knew such information was elusive.

Despite his confidence in his interrogation techniques, there was no guarantee the man wasn’t deceiving him.

"Should I interrogate him further?"

Owen took a deep breath, "No, go keep an eye on the newly arrived supply convoy. I have a feeling someone among them might also be related to this matter; just a hunch..."

After giving Isaac a few more instructions, Owen decided to make a trip to Termination Forest alone.

Regardless of the veracity of the information, as the saint of dragons, it was incumbent upon him to investigate anything related to the legendary sacred sword.

The setting sun bled across the sky.

Within a clearing spanning three hundred meters in Termination Forest, scouts from the Iron Blood Battalion had just clashed with an unexpected vanguard of demons.

The battlefield, centered in the clearing, was left with dozens of corpses.

Neither side gained the upper hand, prompting both to retreat to their ranks in anticipation of a subsequent battle.

"Demons, have they too joined the war between the angel race and dragons?" Owen pondered, turning to Commander Francis with a look of confusion.

Upon hearing that the saint was heading to Termination Forest, the military camp had arranged for a troop to accompany him.

They had barely arrived at Termination Forest when they encountered an attack by demons, creatures that should not have been present in this region.

This encounter only deepened Owen’s sense of foreboding, feeling as though something significant was about to unfold.

The Iron Blood Battalion is an exceedingly unique military unit with a distinct organization.

They were temporarily requisitioned for this mission while en route to another, an occurrence unlikely to happen under normal circumstances.

Comprising four regiments, soldiers of the Iron Blood Battalion undergo rigorous training from a young age, boasting first-rate combat capabilities and representing the elite of the elite.

Currently assisting Owen was the Gale Squad from the Iron Blood Battalion.

However, facing the demons two hundred meters away, Commander Francis of the Iron Blood Gale Squad was fraught with worry.

Encountering the demon’s Silence Legion, Francis’s brow was furrowed with concern.

"Your Highness, this sudden appearance of demons is no ordinary matter; they are elite troops of the demons, and I fear the situation may be beyond our capabilities," he advised.

Owen nodded in acknowledgment.

He was aware of the demons’ ferocity and knew it would be wise to break through and leave posthaste, but...

He also desired to understand exactly what was happening.

The elite demons should not have appeared here; their sudden emergence undoubtedly compounded the current troubles facing the dragons.

The Silence Legion holds a high status within the demon army, its soldiers hailing from the demon’s silence race, hence the name Silence Legion.

In battle, the legionnaires are fearless, spreading a silent terror on the battlefield.

Francis, who had once fought against the Silence Legion while he was a scout leader, knew well of their ferocity.

Judging from the recent skirmish, this demon army was evenly matched with his own troops.

"Could the rumors about the sacred sword be true?" Francis pondered with a growing sense of curiosity.

Owen had mentioned clues to the sacred sword in Termination Forest, which Francis initially thought to be mere child’s play.

He had been quite dissatisfied with the order.

The legend of the sacred sword had spanned over a thousand years, yet no one had ever found it.

Even if it were found, could it really be as powerful as the legends suggest, equating to the might of thousands of troops? The idea seemed ludicrous.

However, now that they had encountered elite demons while on the quest for the sacred sword, could it be that Termination Forest truly held information about the dragons’ sacred sword?

Francis issued a loud command, "With formidable enemies ahead, the Gale Squad must not abandon its mission. The guard squad will proceed with the saint to search for the sacred sword. The rest will engage the enemy to cover the saint’s advance!"

"Commander Francis..." Owen started, realizing Francis intended for him to escape first and was about to refuse.

"The greater good must prevail!" Francis interrupted loudly, then whispered to Owen, "Given today’s circumstances, it seems highly likely the information about the sacred sword is true. This battle is extremely perilous, and I cannot trust this task to anyone else but you, Your Highness."

After a moment’s hesitation, Owen nodded in agreement, instructing, "Be careful. If we truly cannot overcome them, find a way to retreat. There’s no need for a fight to the death."

Francis acknowledged, understanding the gravity of the situation.

Francis drew his sword.

"Brothers, charge!"

With his sword unsheathed, all members of the Gale Squad, except Owen’s guard, rushed towards the Silence Legion.

Swords clashed, and a mist of blood arose on the battlefield, merely three hundred meters in length.

Owen, with the twenty guards assigned to him, moved through the woods beside the clearing, distancing themselves from the conflict.

Soon, Owen sensed something was amiss.

He ordered his troops to halt, carefully observing their surroundings.

The captain of the guard suddenly shouted, "Enemies approach, defend the saint!"

The guard quickly formed a circle around Owen, swords drawn in both hands, protecting him within their ranks.

Simultaneously, a large group of orcs leapt from the trees about five meters outside the circle, roaring as they charged towards the guards.

Orcs, though lacking in intelligence, possessed formidable strength.

Yet, the guards remained unfazed.

With greatswords raised, they waited until the leading orcs were half a meter away before thrusting forward, piercing the hearts of their adversaries with precision.

They then stepped back to their original positions as if in a drill.

This action was repeated several times, resulting in a ring of orc corpses half a meter high around them.

Given the orcs’ large size, the bodies almost formed a barricade.

The orcs’ charge momentarily halted, but soon, more emerged from the woods, regrouping for an even fiercer assault.

The front line of orcs, stepping on the meter-high pile of corpses, raised their axes to strike at the guards.

The guards killed with a single thrust as before, but this time, as they retreated, they were startled to see the bodies being pushed towards them.

This time, the orc formation was tight, with the second line immediately following the first, using their fallen comrades’ bodies as shields to advance towards the guards.

Although taken by surprise, the guards maintained their composure, each thrusting their swords through the bodies to pierce the second row of orcs in their torsos.

The accuracy of these thrusts was naturally diminished by the barrier of corpses, leaving many in the second row severely wounded but not immediately fatal, as they tenaciously grasped the greatswords or the guards’ wrists.

The guards used their short swords to sever the large hands of the orcs, quickly withdrawing their greatswords.

By then, the third row of orcs had closed in, raising their massive axes to strike.

"Retreat!"

Observing the potential disarray of their formation, Owen decisively commanded.

Upon hearing the order, the guards retreated, although three were disarmed, and two were wounded by the axes.

They quickly regrouped around Owen.

The orcs, momentarily hesitating upon seeing their fallen comrades, charged again after discarding the bodies.

"Attack!"

Owen shouted once more.

The guards spread out, engaging the orcs with agility.

They used their greatswords to block the orcish axes and their short swords for striking, never lingering after a missed hit, employing finesse over brute force.

Those injured or disarmed retrieved emergency medicine and backup weapons, rejoining the fray.

Though these few were somewhat compromised in strength, making their fight more challenging, the guard seemed to gain the upper hand.

The orc forces continued to suffer losses without managing to inflict further harm on the guards.

Owen, stationed at the center, casually dispatched any approaching orcs with his trident, though his brow was furrowed with a sense of unease.

The appearance of these orcs was undoubtedly related to the demons, and with the demon army’s leader yet to reveal themselves, he feared further treachery.

At this moment, they might have already fallen into a trap, possibly regarding the information about the sacred sword.

Outnumbered and struggling to break through, their only option was to wear down the enemy with this tactic.

However, continuing in this manner would exhaust the guards to death.

It was imperative to locate the leader of the demon army—capture the leader to defeat the enemy.

"Watch your feet, retreat quickly!" Owen shouted, his trident swirling continuously, sending several bursts of energy towards the feet of nearby guards.

The ground beneath them erupted with muffled explosions, accompanied by the sound of flesh tearing apart.

But it was too late.

Almost simultaneously, hands emerged from the earth beneath other guards, grasping their feet tightly.

True to their battle-hardened nature, the guards plunged their greatswords into the earth, slaying the hidden enemies below.

However, immobilized, they couldn’t dodge the orcs’ attacks and fell fighting.

In the blink of an eye, only three guards saved by Owen remained, standing by his side.

"Ha ha ha ha, worthy of being the saint of dragons!" A sneering laugh echoed from the trees as a shadow swooped down.

"Darkcast asura, despicable coward," the three guards hissed in hatred.

This darkcast asura belonged to a rare offshoot of the asura race, which itself was a branch of the demons.