The Dwarven Royal Capital was thrown into utter chaos.
No one knew where this band of Nightmare Knights had come from, nor how they had managed to penetrate the royal capital directly.
Even for a newly built capital, defensive and detection magic arrays were the most basic necessities. How could a massive horde of devils appear right inside the city without anyone noticing?
Yet the Nightmare Knights gave the dwarves no time to react.
Ange Watson charged at the forefront, brandishing a flaming lance. In the past, he had merely been a commander whose personal combat prowess was mediocre, leaving him unable to lead from the front.
After being transformed into a devil, however, an infernal engine had been implanted into his body.
His heart boiled and blazed, converting vast amounts of magical power into pure strength, rendering him overwhelmingly powerful.
Even the stout dwarven iron guards holding massive shields could not halt Ange Watson's charge. He smashed a gap straight through the shield wall, whereupon the fiery hooves of his nightmare trampled through in a relentless rush.
The cavalry behind him swiftly widened the breach, throwing the dwarves' ranks into total disarray.
The dwarves had only their taste for grandeur to blame. From the city gates to the palace's main entrance ran a straight, wide thoroughfare, spacious enough for twenty carriages to travel abreast, paved entirely with massive, flat slabs of rock. And after stepping out of the Goblin Bank, the Nightmare Knights were barely thirty meters away from this great road; a brief burst of speed brought them straight onto it.
On such a straight road, no one could stand before a full cavalry charge.
The raid had struck so swiftly that the dwarves had no time to organize their defenses. Ange Watson reached the front of the palace gates with virtually no casualties.
Once they arrived here, however, charging was no longer an option.
The palace gates were iron plated in gold and extravagantly thick, reinforced with numerous defensive enchantments. By now, mechanical locks had likely sealed them shut completely; battering them open was impossible.
Upon the palace walls, the dwarves had already prepared themselves. Bows, arrows, and spells were readied at once, poised to strike the devils with a crushing blow.
Ange Watson raised his lance high, and behind him, the Nightmare Knights pulled their reins in unison, coming to a steady halt just outside the dwarves' attack range.
This precise distance made the dwarven commander atop the wall extraordinarily uncomfortable.
Had Ange Watson moved forward even a fraction, they could have worn them down with ranged magic and arrows. Yet he stopped just an inch short. How long could the channeled magic be maintained? How long could the archers hold their drawn bows?
How did these devils know the dwarves' optimal range? How could their timing and positioning be so exact?
Little did they know that every last one of these devils had once been a Ryan paladin. They had fought the dwarves for years.
Though their past invasion had been unjust, helping the dwarves' legitimate Mountain Clan overthrow a vampire was indisputably an act of justice. Still, fighting an unjust war back when they were paladins, only to uphold justice after turning into devils—no matter how one looked at it, the irony was thick.
Though Ange Watson felt a twinge of wistfulness, an exceptional commander always kept his focus on the battle itself.
He quickly said to Anbaixiu, "Lord Davion, we still need your assistance to break the Dwarven Kingdom's defensive array. Otherwise, a surprise attack alone won't breach it."
Anbaixiu nodded, and his heavy mecha flew to the front of the Nightmare Knights.
Anbaixiu crossed that invisible perimeter line. The dwarves had no idea what this massive black mecha was, but either way, blowing it to pieces first was the obvious choice.
Arrows and spells surged toward Anbaixiu together, seeming to blot out half the sky.
Anbaixiu gave a light chuckle, raising his right hand and gently grasping at the air.
A violent gale materialized in an instant. Swept up by the tempest, the arrows infused with various enchantments lost all accuracy, colliding with flying spells and bursting into brilliant flares midair.
The opening salvo the dwarves had painstakingly readied was neutralized by Anbaixiu just like that, yet this was merely the beginning.
Before the gale could subside, it morphed directly into a tornado that swept toward the palace.
Just as it approached, an energy barrier covered in intricate runes flared to life above the palace. The magical defense system of the dwarven royal palace had activated, keeping the tornado at bay.
Even a legendary mage could not shatter a nation-level magical defense with a single spell, so the dwarves atop the walls felt no panic whatsoever.
Yet they were mistaken about one crucial fact: Anbaixiu was far from a simple legendary mage.
The clash between the tornado and the magical barrier set the sky flickering relentlessly. Immediately following, droplets of intensely corrosive acid began manifesting within the winds, filling the air with an unforgettable stench.
At this moment, the dwarves finally realized something was dreadfully wrong.
This was no ordinary tornado—it was the harbinger of a Storm of Vengeance.
Storm of Vengeance: a ninth-tier spell. Unlike Meteor Swarm, which was infamous for struggling to hit specific targets, this spell was widely known to boast the broadest area of effect and the most catastrophic destructive power against cities.
Tempests, acid rain, lightning, and all manner of diverse cataclysms would follow in its wake, the specific manifestations depending on the caster's own magical prowess.
The greater the magical power, the more terrifying the unleashed cataclysms.
Yet no matter how formidable a mage might be, how could anyone clad in heavy armor bypass verbal incantations entirely to cast Storm of Vengeance?
Could any mortal do such a thing?
Little did they know that Anbaixiu had once received the blessing of the Lord of the Storms, allowing him to cast Storm of Vengeance once a day free of charge. This was a divine spell empowered by Talos, transcending the limits of mortals.
Furthermore, Anbaixiu had pumped a massive reservoir of mana into the spell, amplifying its power even further.
Storms, acid rain, lightning, earthquakes, infernos, and even meteorites... these natural disasters played out in relentless succession, burning through the Dwarven Kingdom's magical reserves at a frantic rate.
Above the palace, it looked like doomsday had arrived, a spectacle so immense that even the dwarf king hiding in the palace's deepest recesses could sense it.
Upon learning that an army of devils had abruptly appeared and assaulted the palace, the dwarf king had merely been slightly taken aback before letting out a breath of relief.
He had thought it was the new king chosen by the Dwarven Gods coming to slaughter him. As long as it was not that, nothing else mattered. Though he had no idea where this band of devils had emerged from, devils laying siege to the city was nothing to lose sleep over. Guarded by his troops, he had no reason to worry.
Ever since his last deal with Anbaixiu, the dwarf king had lived in deep dread. He had even wept bitterly while praying to the gods, hoping the Dwarven Gods might understand his plight.
Back then, the Dwarven Kingdom had teetered on the brink of collapse. If he had remained sickly and delirious, the kingdom surely would have fallen apart. Yet the gods had never answered his prayers.
The dwarf king could not help but feel resentment. He had done it all for this kingdom—why should he be abandoned?
He knew this was blasphemy, yet just as a person could not control their inner heart, neither could he master his wrath toward the gods. And knowing the gods were aware of his blasphemy, he lived every day in terror that some dwarf draped in divine radiance would appear and bash his skull in with a blessed warhammer.
Such a life of perpetual anxiety was torment, made all the slower because vampires had no need for sleep.
The dwarf king had tried issuing orders to search the nation for dwarves who suddenly exhibited miraculous talents, claiming that the kingdom was preparing to reclaim lost territory and needed capable hands to aid the cause. In truth, he wanted to locate these suspected God-favored and strangle them in their cradles.
Doing so risked enraging the Dwarven Gods and incurring even harsher punishment, yet the dwarf king could think of no other alternative.
Since he was bound for Hell anyway, why not drag more people down with him?
Perhaps capturing the God-favored would prove his competence; perhaps there was still a sliver of hope that he might survive.
Unfortunately, time had simply been too short.
In just a few days, there had been no time to find a single dwarf suspected of being the God-favored.
Now with the fierce clash raging outside, the dwarf king pondered and decided to step out of his palace chambers.
It was night, so he could move freely. Perhaps demonstrating valor on the battlefield might even persuade the gods to change their minds?
Whether it worked or not, the dwarf king was clutching at any straw he could find, willing to try anything. Ignoring the guards' attempts to dissuade him, the dwarf king led his personal guard out of the palace. Looking up, he beheld the horrifying sky, where dense bolts of lightning rained down like torrents, battering the kingdom's magical barrier without pause.
The dwarf king was astounded. Who could possibly cast such an appalling spell?
Allowing a legendary mage to cast ninth-tier magic unchecked? Were the generals defending the palace complete idiots?
In truth, the defenders were far from idiots. The dwarven warrior of legendary rank had already leaped down from the walls, leading his elite subordinates in a charge toward Anbaixiu.
Storm of Vengeance required concentration; they could not permit this bizarre, heavily armored mage to continue any longer. His casting had to be interrupted.
The warrior was confident: as long as he could close the distance, a brutal hammer throw would knock the mage back or kill him outright, and the spell would naturally cease.
However, Ange Watson had seen through his intent long before.
In reality, Anbaixiu's Storm of Vengeance was meant to lure out the city's powerful champions; draining the defensive array's mana was merely secondary.
Now that the powerhouse had shown himself, it was time for the devils to strike.
The Nightmare Knights charged, clashing head-on with the dwarven warrior's force.
The dwarven warrior was formidable indeed. With a fling of his warhammer, crackling arcs of lightning wrapped around the head of the weapon; a single blow shattered a nightmare's skull and barreled through several Nightmare Knights before returning to his grasp.
Ange Watson shouted, "He's an Eldritch Knight! His legendary ability is tied to that hammer!"
A hallmark of an Eldritch Knight was the ability to bond with a weapon; whether thrown or forcibly disarmed, the weapon would ultimately return to their hand. The hammer was clearly his bonded weapon, and the power infused within it was not something Ange Watson could face directly.
Yet Ange Watson was merely a commander; naturally, there were powerhouses among them to handle it.
Among the paladins who had committed suicide and descended into Hell, there were legendary figures as well.
A towering Nightmare Knight surged forward wielding a lance, its tip erupting into surging flames that engulfed the Eldritch Knight.
The collision of two legends produced a shockwave that forced everyone else to fall back.
Prepared in advance, Ange Watson once again led the Nightmare Knights to split the dwarven troops, wearing down the enemy's strength bit by bit.
The Nightmare Knights were outnumbered. Though the battle between legends hung in the balance, casualties soon began mounting among the other Nightmare Knights.
Seeing that they had gained the upper hand, the dwarves fought with redoubled fury, aiming to rout the devils in a single stroke.
Yet before the Eldritch Knight could unleash his full power, countless fissures abruptly spiderwebbed across the protective barrier above the dwarven palace.
The crisp sound of cracking glass struck the Eldritch Knight's heart like a heavy sledgehammer.
"Impossible! Even if Storm of Vengeance were several times more powerful, it couldn't destroy the palace's defensive magic array in such a short time!" The Eldritch Knight was utterly shocked. If the palace's magical defenses could be breached so easily, the dwarves would have perished as a nation long ago.
Yet the reality stood before them: the defensive array had been broken, and the fury of the Storm of Vengeance began rapidly obliterating everything within the palace grounds.
From two other directions around the palace, two detachments of Nightmare Knights had already scaled the walls and plunged into the interior. Wherever they went, roars of hellfire blazed, consuming all in their path.
Under normal circumstances, the palace's magical defenses would never fall so easily. Unfortunately, dwarves were not the only inhabitants of the royal palace.
This was a multi-ethnic nation, and the construction of the defensive magic array had relied heavily on the support of the Goblin Bank. Long ago, the goblin bank manager had planted inside agents within the palace.
Originally, these agents had little utility, as sabotaging a magic array caused an enormous racket that could never be concealed. But now that Anbaixiu had led the devils to besiege the city, the thunderous roar of the Storm of Vengeance drowned out all else. The raid had struck so swiftly that no one imagined the devils could have collaborators on the inside.
With the array sabotaged and gaps torn through the defenses, the other two detachments of Nightmare Knights charged in, unleashing unrestrained devastation.
They had no need to slaughter many people; throwing the palace into chaos was sufficient.
Palace halls collapsed, and scenic grounds were transformed into seas of fire.
There were still many legendary powerhouses within the palace, but they could not even pinpoint the enemy's positions. Swept along by panicked crowds, restoring order to the palace in the short term was completely out of the question.
The legendary champions fought isolated battles while struggling against the crushing weight of the Storm of Vengeance.
The Nightmare Knights wreaked frantic havoc, plunging the dwarves into ever-deeper turmoil.
At this precise moment, the dwarf king had barely stepped onto the wall when several lightning bolts struck, nearly charring him to a crisp.
He had no idea what had happened, knowing only that the entire palace had fallen into disarray. He saw only a sea of fire and could not make out just how many devils there were. Just then, a group of royal guards clustered around him and urged, "Your Majesty, let us take shelter from these devils for now! No matter how numerous they are, they cannot linger here for long. Your Majesty's safety comes first—let us withdraw through the secret tunnel!"
Escorting the dwarf king away and leaving the rest to the generals was standard procedure. The devils would be wiped out sooner or later anyway; they could cause destruction, but they could never truly hold the entire palace. Perhaps they had merely come to reap a few souls and sow panic.
Just like in legends, devils could never exert lasting influence on this world and would always be driven back to Hell.
Therefore, after a moment's hesitation, the dwarf king assented to the guards' advice. Flanked by his escorts, he left the wall and headed toward the nearest palace hall.
Dwarves excelled at engineering above all else; beneath nearly every palace hall lay specialized secret passages, many known only to the dwarf king himself. Thus, an escape route was always at his disposal.
This was precisely why Seth Yuri had believed an assassination would be practically impossible.
Shortly after the dwarf king entered the secret passage, several beams of green light shot up from within the palace. It was specially crafted alchemical smoke, shining brilliantly even beneath the shroud of the Storm of Vengeance.
Seeing this signal, Anbaixiu halted his spellcasting.
This was the signal agreed upon with their inside agents. The burst of alchemical smoke signaled that the dwarf king had fled the palace. According to plan, it was time to withdraw.
Otherwise, once the dwarves recovered their wits, Ange Watson and his men would all be slaughtered here.
The Nightmare Knights were only there to sow chaos; a few hundred could never truly destroy a city. If the enemy legends were pushed to fight recklessly without regard for collateral damage, Ange Watson's forces would suffer grievous casualties.
Anbaixiu cast another spell, this time Leira's True Mirage.
Dense mist began billowing across the palace, obscuring the dwarves' vision. This was also the signal Anbaixiu and Ange Watson had prearranged: the time to retreat had come.
Unaffected by the illusion, the Nightmare Knights immediately wheeled their steeds and pulled back from the palace.
Blinded by the fog, the dwarves dared not pursue, focusing all their efforts on extinguishing the flames and restoring order.
Seth Yuri had undoubtedly received word by now. What followed would depend on his own capabilities. If he still couldn't handle the dwarf king after this, the God-favored might as well go home and rest, leaving the Dwarven Gods to pick someone else as the new dwarf king.
Having fled into the secret tunnel, the dwarf king had no idea he had fallen into a trap, still running toward what he thought was safety.
Yet just as he neared the tunnel's exit, a pale-faced elf appeared before the group.
With a look of regret, the elf said to the dwarf king, "Cowardly monarch, what lies ahead is true Hell. Turn back now, while there is still time."
Chapter 611