Chapter 272: Chapter 51: Anchor Points Destroyed, the Return Path Opens

「Ten days later.」

A region of the Deep Red Wilderness.

The ground was covered in grayish-white debris, like the weathered fragments of colossal skeletons. Stepping on it produced a "CRUNCH, CRUNCH" sound.

A strange, stale odor filled the air, a mixture of bone dust and rusted metal.

Murphy stood atop a high mound of bone, his feet on the carcass of a freshly slain monster.

The creature resembled a giant bone scorpion. Its carapace was a sickly grayish-white and exceptionally hard, but it had still been sliced open from head to tail by the ferocious Thunder and extreme sharpness of the dark gold Flying Sword.

A thick, dark green fluid was gushing from the wound, seeping into the grayish-white bone field below.

His gaze didn’t linger on the body, but instead shifted to a spot about fifty meters ahead.

In the center of a relatively flat patch of bone-ground stood an obelisk-like structure, about three meters tall, forged from a mixture of dark metal and ghastly white bone.

Etched onto its surface were dark red Energy patterns that pulsed slowly, like the veins of a living creature.

This was the third "anchor point" Murphy had found using the simple map.

With a slight thought, the dark gold Flying Sword hovering beside him let out a clear, resonant hum. Violet bolts of Thunder suddenly flared across its blade.

The next instant, the Flying Sword transformed into a vicious streak of light tearing through the sky, shooting straight for the dark red obelisk!

Sensing the threat, the obelisk’s patterns abruptly lit up, and a translucent Energy Shield materialized in an instant!

The tip of the sword flashed past.

PFFT! 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

BOOM!

The Shield shattered on impact.

The Flying Sword, its momentum unchecked, slammed viciously into the body of the obelisk.

Amidst a violent explosion, countless spiderweb cracks spread out from the point of impact across the dark metal and ghastly bone.

The entire obelisk swayed violently before completely disintegrating in a series of even more ferocious explosions. Debris flew everywhere, leaving only a scorched black crater and a chaotic aftershock of Energy in its place.

Anchor point destroyed.

Murphy recalled his Flying Sword. Its blade shimmered, seemingly pleased with the clean and efficient destruction.

He waited for a moment to confirm there were no other anomalies, then took out the simple map distributed by the Church Court.

The moment his gaze fell upon it...

a sudden change occurred!

In the previously blank center of the map, a tiny, faint, milky-white spot of light appeared without warning.

The spot of light rippled outward in tiny circles, like a pebble dropped into water.

Immediately after, a slender, milky-white line extended automatically from the light spot, winding its way past the crude symbol representing Murphy’s position and pointing to a clear direction and distance.

At the end of the line, another, slightly larger milky-white light pulsed steadily, like a lighthouse beacon.

Murphy’s eyes narrowed.

All the anchor points had been destroyed. This was the signal to regroup.

’These people... they really are quite capable,’ he mused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

’In this extremely perilous environment with a seemingly endless tide of monsters, that group of Great Knights and Temple Knights actually managed to complete the task of clearing the anchor points?’

It was truly unexpected.

Then another thought occurred to him. ’If they didn’t have some real skills and hidden trump cards, the Church Court and the Ironspine Duke wouldn’t have thrown them in here like pawns to die. If they couldn’t complete the mission, what would be the point of coming? Just to act as cannon fodder and draw fire?’

In any case, the signal to regroup had been given.

This meant the time of departure was near.

And the method of departure was undoubtedly in the hands of the Temple Knight squad.

Murphy alone couldn’t break through the dimensional barrier.

He glanced at the flashing destination point on the map, then looked up in that direction.

Based on the map’s scale and the length of the line, the rendezvous point was over a hundred kilometers away.

He didn’t hesitate.

He carefully put the map away, took one last look at the scorched crater left behind by the destroyed anchor point, and with a flash of movement, sped off in the indicated direction.

Along the way, Murphy remained on high alert, with the effects of his [Thousand-Faced Illusion] and [Shadow Ring] fully active to conceal his presence as much as possible.

The Flying Sword rested in its sheath, ready to deal with any sudden threats.

...

「Half a day later.」

Murphy arrived at the rendezvous point.

It was a valley nestled between several low, dark-red rock mountains. The ground was hard, dark slate, and not a single blade of grass grew.

A clearing had been made in the center of the valley.

The air was thick with the stench of blood, the smell of medicine, and a strange, burnt odor mixed with the scents of festering wounds and the lingering after-effects of purification by Holy Power.

Of the original twenty-two Peak Mortal Great Knights who had answered the summons, plus the ten Temple Knights, for a total of thirty-two people...

fewer than fifteen now gathered in the valley.

And almost all of them were injured, to varying degrees.

The Great Knights were gathered in twos and threes, some sitting, some lying down. The atmosphere was heavy.

Their magnificent Armor and exquisite robes were tattered and stained with blood and dirt.

Many had blood-soaked bandages wrapped around them. Their eyes were filled with the exhaustion of survival, the grief of losing comrades, and a bone-deep fear of this land.

Murphy’s gaze swept over them, quickly identifying the survivors.

He saw Knight Armand de Laval.

The old Knight sat alone beside a protruding rock. His dark silver armor was covered in fresh wounds, its once-gleaming surface now dull. His left arm was held in a crude sling made from a torn piece of his cloak, a clear sign of a serious injury.

He sat with his head bowed, clutching a Knight’s Longsword that had been broken in half. The hilt was caked with dried blood.

He had no companions by his side.

He was all alone, his figure casting a particularly desolate and forlorn silhouette.

He also saw the Iron Wall Imperial Guard Commander.

His signature Black Iron Heavy Armor was severely damaged; a corner of his Face Armor was even missing, revealing a gruesome, fresh scar beneath.

He stood silently, leaning on his Lance like a wounded tiger, still exuding a cold, unapproachable aura. But his breathing was noticeably labored, and blood seeped from the seams of his Armor.