"Lord Louise, are you going to intercept that Raffel?"

With a bandaged arm, the guerrilla hunters' captain asked anxiously.

Louise gazed towards Raffel from afar. At that moment, he had already charged and slaughtered into the first guard corps.

She shook her head: "It's pointless, the Angel Descent will directly dispel my bodily spells, it would be more effective here."

Back when Prince Kongdai charged as a Half-Step Great Knight, he only carried seven blessings on him.

But Raffel carries no less than fifteen blessings, many of which are consecration blessings only Great Knights can withstand.

A Half-Step Great Knight is no different from a Squire Knight in front of a Great Knight.

Just as fragile.

Why can Extraordinary Knights stand unchallenged in this world?

Why can the empire repel those dreadful royal court vampires?

Why are secret factions and countless rebels so desperate for independence?

Very simply, the empire's wise men forged an entire war system for Great Knights during the most difficult times of the hundred-year war.

Armour-piercing forces can't match the Great Knight's speed, those matching speed can't pierce the Great Knight's armour.

The only possible threat magic was countered by divine blessings.

Louise is from the old era, she's no match for the old era's kings.

The only ones who can kill the old kings are the new kings.

When Raffel dashed past, Louise didn't even attempt to block, instead transforming into a giant gorilla to intercept other Imperial Knights from behind.

This wasn't fear of battle, it was knowing it was meaningless.

When she came of age, her old father Great Knight Antoine was already a dazed, obese shadow of his former self.

Don't even mention riding or receiving blessings, he can't even speak properly anymore.

Yet Antoine's occasional instinctive reactions could seriously wound his former imposing self.

Oh Great Knights…

She rams an Imperial Knight, tearing his head off bare-handed, and the long-haired giant roared with anger.

Only occasionally, she still glanced back with worry.

The Pope himself isn't on the battlefield, can the Close Guard Cultivators hold their ground?

...

"Lord Raffel, the Blood Knights were lured to the riverside, bombarded with twelve-pound cannons, suffering heavy casualties."

"Ignore it."

"The Wild Wolf Battle Group and Shadow Crow Army seem to have sent reinforcements..."

"Ignore it."

"But..."

Before the reporting Square Banner Knight could respond, Raffel shouted again: "Charge!"

His charge wasn't to break an entire horizontal formation all at once.

Not that it's impossible, but it would easily slow the horse, getting trapped in infantry formations or hit by things like spring-loaded cannons.

He certainly didn't underestimate the Close Guard Cultivators.

So Raffel's attack was spiral-shaped, first breaching a layer of horizontal formation, then retreating a short distance, before charging once more.

It's like chopping wood, raising it every time for the next harsher attack.

As for Blood Knights and the so-called reinforcements, he knew, but it was irrelevant now.

Leia split and fell, he knew!

The church corrupt and foolish, he knew! 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Ginijis cruel means, betrayal, collusion with the royal court, misuse of blood magic, he also knew!

But what of it? This wasn't his concern.

His only concern was to keep the honor of the Lanfeng Family.

He looked up, and through the narrow slit of his helmet, he could see the bleeding horse ears twitch that were gapped by lead.

The hooves from the vanguard kicked up dust, a curtain formed by the dust where a row of familiar blurry silhouettes stood.

Prince Tumendjis, Archbishop Matoss, Duke Granberd, Knight Commander Sakul...

Raffel seemed to be back decades ago, struggling to follow these talents forward, charging against the rebel and split vassal army.

Faster, move faster, don't be left behind!

Amidst the clamor and battle cries, clashes and penetrating flesh, all chaotic surges moved away from him, as Raffel saw the King turning back in the dust curtain.

"Raffel, protect my back!"

"I follow your orders, Your Highness!" Raffel wished to reply.

Yet for some reason, the words spoken turned into "I am the vanguard!"

He urged the steed hard, the Dragon Blood Horse panting heavily, scenery blurred due to speed.

Everything turned fuzzy.

The carpet woven of blood, the corridor framed by pikes and holy guns, amidst the endless sea of blades and leaden mist, he saw a red and black intertwined Holy Banner.

Amidst the dull world, the gears and sun on the banner gleamed golden.

However, a heavily-armored Holy Armor Forbidden Army soldier leaped out, obscuring that banner.

Countless close guard cultivators stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking his way, as if there was an endless sea of metal separating them from the Holy Banner.

"I, the vanguard!"

A storm-like roar spread far and wide, as if he was back on the battlefield of the windmill ground.

The knight's lance knocked a heavily armored cultivator flying, then sent the charging Wild Wolf Soldier flying like a broken kite.

Abandoning the lance, he drew his longsword, and Raffel swung his waist aside, spinning seven or eight headless corpses on the spot with great force.

As he retracted the knight's sword, a long spear thrust out, straight at his face, but he grasped the spear effortlessly, using its force to counter-stab.

It was like being struck by a retreating cannon barrel to the lungs; the long spear cultivator coughed up fresh blood with organ fragments.

One layer, two layers, three layers, Raffel could no longer remember how many layers of close guard cultivators he had slaughtered through.

In his eyes, there was only an endless mass of blades and spear tips.

Kill through, kill through!

"I, the vanguard!" Raffel hoarsely roared, his eyes bloodshot.

A close guard cultivator rushed with a plasma bomb, electric light like a forest, forcing surrounding cultivators to turn their heads.

But when the white light dissipated and they looked up again, they despairingly discovered Raffel was still standing.

Lightning melted into dark red molten streams on the White Crystal Steel armor, only burning out a patch of scorched pink flesh beneath the Great Knight's armor.

Another cultivator attempted the same trick, but Raffel turned and shot an arrow through his head.

The flash of the plasma explosion enveloped ten or more cultivators, leaving behind scorched, carbonized corpses.

"I am the vanguard!!!"

Tightening his legs, the Dragon Blood Horse's painful scream propelled it faster, almost like a phantom.

The fireball formed by the Red Dragon's breath hit the Dragon Blood Horse's head, scattering into scorch marks on the armor, but was blown away by blessings.

Seven or eight Shadow Crow soldiers descended from the sky, only to be scattered like crows hitting a horse-drawn train.

Patrick's poison mist was dispersed by a roar, Catherine's poison vines trampled to pieces.

Solan, the Shadow Witch attempting assassination, was roared out of the shadows by the instant use of Scripture Recitation Divine Technique from [Angel Descension], rolling away miserably.

The artillerymen sweated profusely, aiming at the charging Great Knight with cannons close to their comrades.

"Fire!"

The spring cannon's shot crackled, hitting the Dragon Blood Horse's body, sending lead pieces flying from the armor.

For the first time, the armor bore dozens of holes and a few bloodstains.

It wasn't that the shot suddenly became effective.

It was just that so many lead pieces and shots, along with plasma bombs, pitted the shiny armor into craters.

Those craters were where the White Crystal Steel armor was weak.

The Great Knight's wounds were merely those weak spots being hit again.

Shaking off the ragged armor, lead pieces and fragments fell klang.

Raffel suddenly laughed; this armor looked so much like the one he wore when he left home back then.

Raising his head again, the world between the cracks of his eyes was different.

The fierce wind roared, dust scattered in the air, even those backs seemed to fly away like sand piles in the wind.

At some point, he had pierced through the curtain of dust ahead.

Only then did he find an empty front, flanked by countless fallen bodies, both close guard cultivators and Imperial Knights.

Three layers, they had penetrated three layers of battle lines.

Including four close guard corps, one reinforcing Shadow Crow corps, one Wild Wolf corps, the Holy Grail Cavalry Corps, and the Mage Corps.

Passing through a torrent of arrows, lead, and blades, the battle flag was near, separated by just the last row of two close guard corps.

Raffel pulled the reins, the hoofbeats transitioning from rapid to gentle.

He had reached the Holy Banner.

Inside the armor, Raffel's warm blood ran from his forehead to the corner of his eye.

Without touching, he knew he was hit by the cannonball, scraping off a piece of helmet and scalp.

Skin and muscles were embedded with lead pieces, even the bone inside harbored bullets from the helical gun.

The Dragon Blood Horse's breaths carried whistling sounds.

Only thirty to fifty meters from the battle flag, the last thirty to fifty meters.

Beside Raffel, there were merely over fifty Imperial Knights left.

"Stop him!" Raffel didn't recognize Mengse but heard his order, full of despair and fury.

The Holy Gunmen raised their Holy Guns, tilted their heads to aim, countless dark gun muzzles targeting only him.

Bowing his head, Raffel murmured in a volume only he could hear: "His Highness, even someone as useless as me can protect your kingdom."

The chain hammer suddenly flew out.

"Crack—"

The crisp sound of wood breaking halted countless close guard cultivators' actions.

They stared blankly, numbly, bewilderedly, watching the Holy Banner.

The sturdy flagpole emitted creaking sounds of wood fibers snapping inch by inch.

Under the gaze of the last two close guard corps, the six corps in front, and all soldiers who could see the Holy Banner—

The Holy Banner symbolizing victory and the Saint's Grandson was slowly falling, crashing onto the lush grassland.