Chapter 19: You’re pretty good

The damp, warm feeling on his pants made Mark slowly open his eyes from his drunken daze.

There were strange, chaotic noises coming from below the city wall.

But the entire Glorious City had been cheering all day, celebrating the demon army’s retreat — a bit of noise was normal.

Mark reached down to touch his pants and felt a sticky wetness.

Instinctively, he raised his hand to his nose and sniffed.

A strong, metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils from the liquid on his palm.

Something felt off… but he couldn’t quite say what it was.

Mark looked up at the sky.

It was a dark, windy night. A strong gust blew past as the clouds silently shifted, letting the faint moonlight peek through.

In that dim light, Mark looked down at the sticky liquid in his hand.

The dark red color sobered him up almost instantly.

“Blood?!”

All the squad members were lying on the ground — their chests no longer moving.

Underneath them, thick, dark red blood continued to flow and spread out.

The salty, metallic smell hit him hard.

“W-What… what happened?”

In a panic, Mark crouched down and shook the captain.

“C-Captain?!”

His trembling fingers moved to the captain’s nose — but there was no breath at all.

Dead.

The captain was dead.

All the soldiers were dead!

Everyone… was dead!

Just then, a howling sound rang out in the distance!

The sharp, piercing sound made Mark turn toward the direction it came from.

A bright orange flame streaked through the night sky like a meteor.

The massive fireball grew larger and larger in Mark’s eyes.

A burning boulder came crashing down onto the top of the city wall!

The section of wall where Mark stood couldn’t withstand the impact and collapsed with a thunderous crash.

After being thrown around violently, Mark struggled to get up, covered in dust. Before he could even feel grateful for

surviving the fall, the scene before him froze him in place.

Less than twenty meters ahead of him… countless figures were standing there.

A sea of dark shadows stretched endlessly into the night.

And leading them—was a pack of demonized beastmen!

“Demons…?”

Looking at the overwhelming demon army before him, all the alcohol in Mark’s system vanished at once.

He looked back behind him — only broken limbs and torn bodies remained. Not a single living person was at his side.

Mark froze.

Then, suddenly, he smiled bitterly.

He stepped forward, picked up half of a broken spear from the ground.

He turned and glanced at the shattered remains of his fallen comrades buried in the rubble.

His eyes filled with a cold, determined light.

“Captain… You always said I was the most cowardly. I never accepted that — I always wanted to prove you wrong. Today,

you better watch closely… I, Mark… am not a coward!”

Turning to face those hideous, twisted faces…

Beastmen like these were usually the vanguard of demon armies. They bred quickly and had limited intelligence — they

were weak by high-level standards.

But to an ordinary person, or even most soldiers on the battlefield, these three-meter-tall monsters were unbeatable.

Mark took a deep breath and raised the broken spear in his hand.

Images of his comrades and family flashed through his mind.

He cast aside all fear and doubt, looking straight into the endless demon horde.

Gripping the broken spear tightly, he let out a furious, desperate roar—

Mark had forgotten everything. All that was left in his heart were two words: die fighting.

Charging toward him was a massive, three-meter-tall beastman — its greenish arm alone was thicker than Mark’s waist.

The difference in strength was beyond comparison.

Seeing a lone human charging straight at their ranks, the beastmen’s faces twisted with cruel grins.

For someone like this… the beastmen had plenty of ways to make him regret his choices.

The demonized beastman casually raised its iron axe. Once this human came close, it would cleave him in half with one

swing.

Mark charged right up to it.

The beastman raised its axe—yet the expected spray of blood never came.

Instead, it was the one sent flying.

Midair, the beastman saw a silver-armored knight on the ground, wielding a massive greatsword.

And right in front of that knight… was a headless beastman.

That body—it looked familiar.

It was its own.

It… was dead?

That single thought became the beastman’s last in this world.

Mark stood there, gripping the broken spear, frozen.

He had been ready to die — but at the very last moment, a miracle had happened.

“You’ve got guts, kid. But… this isn’t where you’re supposed to be right now.”

Mark snapped out of it.

The man standing before him had sharp, narrow triangular eyes and a pronounced hawk-like nose — unmistakable

features.

He was one of Glorious City’s Eight Guardian Knights.

Guardian Knight — Kaien.

“Lord Kaien? You… why are you here?”

The alarm had never even been sounded from the west wall. Even with all the noise and chaos, other soldiers might have

simply thought it was something minor — not an all-out demon assault.

Mark cautiously eyed the knight before him. After all, he’d seen the nun Martha undergo demonic transformation just

that very day.

Kaien turned his head slightly to glance at Mark, his eyes showing a rare glimmer of approval.

“By Her Holiness the Saintess’s divine command, tonight… we battle the demon race to the death. If you still have the will

to fight, return to the city and join another unit. Fight alongside them. The evacuation of civilians has already begun

inside the city. If you’re too afraid to go to the front lines, help with the evacuation.”

Kaien stood there at the base of the city wall, clad in shining silver armor. Even as tens of thousands of demon soldiers

faced him, they hesitated to advance.

A Level 50 Guardian Knight — while he hadn’t crossed into Level 60, against ordinary beastmen troops, he held absolute

advantage.

Even if the demons wanted to wear him down, they’d have to pay dearly for it.

With a screeching grind, the huge city gate slowly opened. Over a hundred silver-armored knights marched out in

formation.

Hundreds of Sanctuary Knights… facing an army of tens of thousands of demons.

The difference in numbers was staggering — it should’ve felt hopeless.

Yet the knights standing beneath the west city gate… not one of them showed fear.

On their faces was only silent, unshakable resolve.