School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 190 --Mutual Destruction

"Six and Seven," Blindman began, "we’re currently in the middle of Natural Ravine, on Earthdragon Bridge. One of you head south to guard Woodendragon Bridge, and the other north to Firedragon Bridge. Decide amongst yourselves who will go where."

"Understood." The Sixth Centurion replied, "However, it’s a rare opportunity to serve directly under the First Centurion. Allow us brothers to first toast to you."

The Seventh Centurion chimed in, "Yes, indeed."

Blindman sneered internally, deeming the pair unworthy of sharing a drink with him.

He was about to refuse when the sudden aroma of wine caught his attention.

"Bring it here." Blindman found himself involuntarily licking his lips.

With utmost respect, the Sixth Centurion handed over a wine flask, seemingly without any cups prepared.

Blindman snatched the flask and took a delicate sniff.

The wine carried the essence of sunlight, reminiscent of his hometown.

For a moment, Blindman was lost in reverie, seated in the wheat fields of his youth, with his childhood sweetheart leaning gently on his shoulder, smiling softly.

He sipped the wine, then took a large gulp, and soon after, he was guzzling it down, gulp after gulp.

"Ha ha ha ha ha." Blindman heard laughter, snapping back to reality.

The taste of sunlight in his mouth had turned bitter.

"What’s happening?" Blindman became anxious.

"What have you given me to drink?" The Sixth Centurion stopped his maniacal laughter, squinting as he said, "Nothing but a simple bitter medicine, of the extremely poisonous variety."

Blindman could already feel the toxin spreading through his organs, a chill spreading through his body as the realization of his fate dawned upon him.

"Blindman, now that it’s come to this, I might as well tell you." The Seventh Centurion said with a laugh, "This wine jug is a treasure, known as the Elixir Vase. By infusing it with enough arcanergy and opening the lid, it releases the most exquisite scent in the world. The most miraculous part is that the scent varies for each individual, irresistible to anyone who perceives it, compelling them to drink from the jug. The only flaw is that this magical illusion lasts for only about five minutes, and we were genuinely worried you wouldn’t take a sip within that time."

"Who sent you? Are you plotting a rebellion?" Blindman asked, struggling to maintain his composure.

"A rebellion? Bladen is already scared half to death," the Sixth Centurion said.

"In these desperate times, we intend to elevate the Second Centurion Chandler to leadership."

"Hmph." Blindman snorted derisively, "I always knew that bastard was up to no good."

"Enough with the nonsense, today marks your end." The Sixth Centurion drew his sword, pointing it at Blindman, "You’ve always looked down on us brothers, but today, we’ll be the ones to send you to your demise."

As his words hung in the air, both the ironclad army and the royal guard sprang into action.

Blindman’s aide-de-camp carried him to the rear of the battlefield.

On the nearby battlefield, the royal guard began to falter.

Despite outnumbering the ironclad army, the latter was bolstered by many mercenaries from trading companies loyal to Chandler, whose combat prowess surpassed that of the royal guards.

The Fitz and Gurr brothers, wielding their large swords, made quick work of the ordinary guards, ensuring the guard’s defeat was only a matter of time.

"Command them to fall back," Blindman stood up, declaring, "After I annihilate the rebels, you will take command."

"Yes." The royal guard retreated while fighting, and Blindman, with the support of his aide, slowly advanced forward.

Fitz and Gurr, noticing this unusual development, did not dare to be careless and did not pursue, instead, they regrouped.

"Today marks your demise," Blindman announced when he was five meters away from Fitz and Gurr.

"The fate of Bladen is of no concern to me, but I promised the late king to protect him throughout his life.

You two insects, today, you shall witness something extraordinary." Blindman’s hands began to glow with a pale yellow light, flowing over his body like water.

He opened his eyes, which suddenly became clear, as pure as those of a young man.

With a sweeping slash, Fitz and Gurr, not daring to block, hastily retreated.

The sword qi cut through the ranks of the ironclad army, slicing those who couldn’t dodge in half.

Fitz and Gurr broke into a cold sweat, yet the worst was still to come. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Blindman casually unleashed two streams of sword aura that chased after them as if possessing their own will.

In a panic, Fitz tried to block with his sword but was bisected.

Gurr, exerting all his strength in desperation, barely managed to alter the trajectory of the sword qi but at the cost of his right leg being shattered.

Gurr lay on the ground in agony, watching Blindman dart across the battlefield like lightning.

In a matter of minutes, the ironclad army was decimated.

As the word "demon" formed in his mind, that very demon stood before him.

"Are you Fitz or Gurr?" a booming voice asked.

In terror, Gurr responded, "I am..."

"It doesn’t matter, you’re all the same." Before he could finish, Blindman beheaded him.

Time was nearly up, Blindman thought.

His vision began to blur once more.

This technique, named "Reverse Life," was a revelation from his youth, a time when he had paid the price of his sight to comprehend it.

For about a quarter of an hour, this move could disregard his current physical state, restoring all his abilities to the moment just before he lost his eyes, or rather, reenacting that moment.

During the activation of Reverse Life, his drained arcanergy and physical strength would rapidly return.

However, once Reverse Life ended, he would suffer an equivalent backlash.

After all, "eternity" is immensely precious, even if it’s just for a quarter of an hour, defying the natural order.

But now, Blindman had no need to worry about any backlash.

He began to feel the agony of the deadly poison invading his organs once again.

He slowly lay down on the ground, muttering to himself, "To die at the hands of Chandler, that bastard, truly is not worth it. But that scent... it really was the smell of home..."

How he wished for another sip.

...

No matter the country, a prison cell is never meant to be comfortable.

Even if you’ve spent a considerable amount of money and bribed the right people, you still have to endure the decay and mold in the air, along with the gloomy and damp environment.

That being said, if a nation’s prisons felt like a holiday resort, then that country wouldn’t be far from

Blight lay in the deepest dungeon of the Snow Kingdom’s great prison, staring blankly at the cell door.

His hands and feet were shackled with chains forged from the finest steel.

Bound by these chains, Blight could only move within a two-meter radius in the center of his cell, unable to even touch the door.

The cell contained nothing but the chains and a chamber pot.

The jailer came twice a day, each time bringing food, the chamber pot, and a silver needle.

After injecting him to seal his arcanergy, the jailer would watch Blight eat his meal.

Once finished, the jailer would clean up the utensils, replace the chamber pot, lock the cell door, and return to the surface.

Sometimes, as Blight observed the jailer’s monotonous routine, he felt as though he, too, was imprisoned, perhaps for life.

The sound of the door opening echoed from above, followed by the steady steps of someone descending the staircase.

Blight’s eyes lit up; he recognized who was coming.

He crossed his legs and sat on the floor.

The guard captain stood in front of the cell, his face a canvas of pain and conflict.

"Woody, you’ve finally come to see me," Blight said, smiling at the honest captain of the guard.

The guard captain had no name.

He was someone Blight had picked up from the streets, and Blight called him Woody.

So, he became Woody.

When Blight found him, Woody remembered nothing.

Moreover, he was in a frenzy, smashing everything he saw.

The ironclad army on patrol steered clear of him, with only Blight stepping in to intervene.

The result was the eight-foot-tall, well-proportioned Blight getting several ribs broken by Woody, who stood nine feet tall with arms as thick as the average person’s thighs.

It was not without great effort that Blight finally subdued Woody.

Blight had Woody dragged back to the barracks.

Upon examination, it was discovered that Woody’s skull bore numerous small indentations, appearing as though eroded by some liquid.

Blight sought help for Woody, and after a month of treatment, Woody’s suffering was alleviated.

From then on, Woody followed Blight, serving as his guard.

Blight, admiring Woody’s straightforward and honest nature, treated him as a friend rather than a subordinate.

Later, the old king, recognizing Woody’s extraordinary strength, summoned him to serve as the captain of the guard.

Their friendship remained strong through the years.

Now, the captain of the guard stood opposite Blight, muttering in agony, "The old snow king always said the most important virtues are loyalty and righteousness.

A captain must be loyal to the king.

The old snow king treated me well, so I am loyal to him.

He also instructed me to be loyal to the young snow king..."

"Woody, I’ve been good to you, shouldn’t you also be loyal to me?" Blight asked with a smile.

"Big brother has been the best to me!" Woody exclaimed loudly.

"But I first promised the old snow king. Big brother, you didn’t ask for my loyalty first. I don’t understand the greater principles, but I feel that one shouldn’t go back on a promise. Yet, the young snow king ordered me to capture you... It doesn’t sit right with me."

"Woody, remember, a true adherent of loyalty and righteousness dedicates himself to greater causes. To cling to past minor promises in the face of humanity’s dire threat from the demon army is foolish loyalty."

"I know, the young snow king’s acts of betrayal are deplorable. He’s a bad person, reeking of foulness," Woody licked his lips and said, "If he issues any more bad orders, I’ll refuse to follow them."

"Ha ha."

"Alright, brother. I must go back now." Woody tossed a piece of wire to Blight, then added, "You should escape on your own. Don’t worry, I placed a soundproof stone by the iron door on the wall when I came in from above. Our conversation can’t be heard from above, and they won’t hear you unlocking the door either. It’s all set."