Late into the night, a massive carriage departed from the newly built castle, hurrying toward a distant destination.
Even with magic boosting its speed, reaching the destination would require three full hours of nonstop running.
The dwarf iron guards could not quite understand this act of delivering money in the middle of the night, and resentment inevitably brewed among them. Many even felt that because the Hand of the King had lost an arm, he was no longer the heroic general who once slaughtered enemies on the battlefield.
Ever since the melee in the City of Alchemy began, the dwarves seemed to be giving away money every single day. Yet despite handing over so much, no one could see what benefit it had brought.
Still, such thoughts could only be kept to themselves; none dared say them out loud.
Inside the carriage, the guard captain—disguised as Hoffman Ironfist via Polymorph—was also somewhat bewildered.
He didn't fail to understand paying people off; after all, if one wanted to avoid war while solidifying control over newly claimed territory, channeling benefits was necessary.
Yet why choose the dead of night? Being sneaky about it was one thing, but making him take his superior's appearance for the handover looked distinctly unusual—almost like doing something crooked.
Despite his doubts, the guard captain remained fiercely loyal to Hoffman Ironfist. The order had been given, so he would simply carry it out.
The carriage sped forward, racing along with anti-gravity magic cast upon it. But roughly halfway into the journey, the draft warhorses suddenly grew agitated. They came to an abrupt halt and thrashed wildly, frantically trying to tear free of their reins.
Something was wrong. These warhorses were strictly trained; they wouldn't panic or lose control even when facing a spear phalanx.
There had to be something terrifying nearby to provoke such a reaction.
Before the dwarves could investigate, hellfire ignited all around the carriage.
The roaring flames rose into towering walls, sealing all the dwarves inside. The surrounding space warped, cutting off the use of any spatial spells. The Gate of Hell had been opened, and screaming, howling monsters surged out of the flames, rushing toward the dwarves like a tidal wave.
Though the dwarves had no idea why they had been ambushed, the dwarf iron guards reacted swiftly. Shields locked together, and a magical energy shield rapidly expanded, keeping the monsters at bay.
The seemingly thin, transparent energy shield held firm against the onslaught of thousands of demons.
No matter how the dretches flailed their claws, they couldn't leave the slightest scratch upon it.
The dwarf iron guards excelled at defense above all else, making them far steadier under ambush than the elves.
The guard captain had initially intended to lead a charge himself to breach the ring of hellfire, but suddenly remembered he was impersonating Hoffman Ironfist. Making a move might expose his identity, so he could only bark an order: "Slaughter these monsters! Break out to the east!"
The dwarf iron guards roared in response, hoisting their heavy shields and pressing eastward against the demonic tide.
With every step, they let out a booming shout. Their heavy strides carried tremendous force, forcibly driving the energy shield through the demon horde to carve out a path.
Many dretches were crushed between the advancing dwarves and their own kin behind them, gradually reduced to mounds of pulp.
This was a classic dwarven tactic: deploy an impenetrable defensive shield, then constrict the enemy's living space.
Of course, they had ways to strike back as well.
Shielded by the front line of iron guards, the dwarven mages in the rear began casting freely.
Fireballs hurtled out one after another, blasting demons into the air, while arcs of lightning arced across the ranks, charring them to cinders.
This dwarven detachment numbered fewer than fifty, yet the monsters slain by their hands had already surpassed triple digits.
At this rate, they would soon breach the perimeter of hellfire. Once out of the spatial distortion's reach, escaping would take nothing more than a Mass Teleport spell.
Yet for an ambush staged on such a grand scale, the enemy wouldn't send merely a few dretches.
As expected, balors made their entrance. Several towering fiery giants blocked the dwarves' path, brandishing flaming whips and greatswords as they savagely battered the iron guards' energy shield.
Violent clashes of energy detonated against the shield, bursting with brilliance brighter than fireworks.
Every blow from the balors made the barrier violently tremble, forcing the dwarf iron guards to halt their advance and pour everything into maintaining it.
The dwarven mages focused their fire on the balors, desperate to bring them down.
However, the balors possessed extraordinarily high magic resistance; even relentless barrages of frost spells could hardly dispatch them quickly. Once the column ground to a halt, demonic attacks swarmed densely from every direction.
The energy shield flickered continuously, clearly pushed to its limit.
Seeing that the situation was turning dire, the guard captain could no longer maintain his act. Raising his warhammer high, he brought it down savagely against the ground.
Outside the energy shield, the earth shook violently. Countless earthen spikes erupted from the ground, skewering the demons through.
One balor failed to dodge in time; a spike pierced straight through its foot, wrenching a roar of agony from its throat.
The guard captain was also a powerhouse of legendary rank, and his class was an Eldritch Knight.
"Buff me! I'll take care of those balors!"
At the captain's command, the mages in the squad rapidly cast spell after spell upon him. Bull's Strength, Cat's Grace, Owl's Wisdom, Stoneskin, Bless... every applicable enhancement was heaped onto the guard captain, turning him into a dazzling, kaleidoscopic lantern.
Then, raising his warhammer, he summoned his magical steed—a massive black goat.
Larger than an ox, the black goat cleared the energy shield in a single bound, carrying the guard captain into the midst of the demons.
The instant he landed, the guard captain and his mount blurred, and three identical illusory doubles appeared beside him.
The demons couldn't tell which was real, and most of their attacks struck empty air.
Meanwhile, the guard captain swung his warhammer in a murderous frenzy. The warhammer, weighing dozens of jin, felt as light as a feather in his hands. It blurred with afterimages, accompanied by sharp sonic booms.
Under so many magical enhancements, a legendary warrior swinging with full strength could already break the sound barrier.
Not only that, but an Eldritch Knight's spellcasting was far from weak. With warhammer in one hand and magic in the other, the guard captain hurled area-of-effect spells like Thunderwave and Burning Hands as if they cost nothing. Any demon that dared draw close was blown to bits, and single-handedly, he carved a bloody path through the endless demonic horde.
Pushing steadily forward, the guard captain soon arrived before a balor.
The disparity in size was glaringly obvious. Had he not been mounted on the giant black goat, he wouldn't even reach the balor's knees.
Yet size did not dictate combat strength. Bolstered by magical wards, the creature's fiery aura had no effect on him, producing only tiny sparks across his surface.
The warhammer left the guard captain's grip like a shooting star, slamming directly into the balor's head.
Carrying immense weight and power, the hammer struck the demon's skull with pinpoint accuracy.
With a dull thud, a massive fissure split across the balor's brow, and blood like molten lava poured out.
That was only the beginning. The instant the heavy hammer struck its target, it zipped right back into the guard captain's hand with a swoosh—the Eldritch Knight's signature ability, Weapon Bond.
An Eldritch Knight could choose a weapon to bond with themselves.
A bonded weapon would never fall from their grip, and even if thrown, it would swiftly return to the knight's hand.
From this arose an entire Eldritch Knight specialization: the throwing build.
This guard captain was clearly a master of the throwing build. Not only was his warhammer remarkably accurate, but it also carried an array of extra damage types. A second throw caused the balor's head to burst apart, leaving it without the slightest chance to regenerate.
Having slain one balor, he swung his hammer once more and hurled it at another, tugging the reins so the black goat charged aside to dodge the lash of a flaming whip.
The guard captain tore back and forth through the demon horde. Though occasionally struck, he completely brushed off the damage thanks to dozens of defensive spells. And with his warhammer throws claiming a balor every two strikes, the dwarves would soon break free at this rate.
Yet things in this world rarely went so smoothly.
Just as the second balor was brought down, three beams of crimson light plummeted from the sky.
A three-beam Eldritch Blast!
The tremendous burst of energy struck the guard captain dead on, rattling him from head to toe and shattering several of his protective spells.
This was no ordinary spellcaster; this was legendary power.
The guard captain couldn't help looking up, only to see a winged shadow streak across the gloomy sky.
"Is that... a dragon?!"
The dragon-shaped shadow dove toward him, opening its maw to unleash a torrent of searing breath.
The guard captain only had time to raise his shield in defense. Amid a sharp crackling roar, most of the protective spells remaining on him shattered, and even his black goat was severely burned by the dragon's breath.
Yet the guard captain did not wait for death. He hurled his warhammer, fast as a shooting star, striking the dragon's head and kicking up a shower of sparks against its fine scales.
The dragon let out a roar, beat its wings to climb high, and unleashed a relentless barrage of Eldritch Blasts down at him.
Beam after beam of magical energy pounded down, leaving the captain struggling to hold on.
Throwing his hammer was entirely useless now. Even if it broke the sound barrier, the enemy flew too high in the sky; by the time the hammer reached that altitude, it had long lost its initial speed, allowing the flying dragon to evade it several times.
The guard captain plunged into a grueling battle, taking hits with no way to retaliate.
And while he was pinned down by the dragon, the other dwarves also found themselves in dire straits.
The endless demons were steadily whittling away at their energy shield. Once it shattered, every dwarf would perish beneath the demonic onslaught. Yet the guard captain was helpless to stop it. While an Eldritch Knight possessed spellcasting ability, they lacked the vast repertoire of a pure wizard who could handle any crisis.
The flying dragon above countered his Eldritch Knight abilities completely. If dragged out any longer, the dwarves had only one fate: annihilation.
Thus, the guard captain made a ruthless choice. Leaving the other dwarves behind, he prepared to break out alone.
At the very least, someone had to make it back to deliver the news!
Chapter 135