However, before the man and the dragon could even catch their breath—
the hurricane that had been split in two suddenly transformed into violent surges of elemental turbulence, rushing toward them once more.
This time, even the knight girl's powerful strike was caught up in the chaotic winds and came rebounding back at her.
Of course, her attack wasn't useless.
Before the torrent of elemental energy could reach them, it was forced downward, crashing toward the great Wall of Watchers below.
"Not good!"
The knight girl gasped. She tried to dive down immediately, but the enemy mages intercepted her again, binding her movements. The same was true for Augustus—
neither of them could do anything but watch helplessly as the elemental storm slammed into the fortress below.
Yet to their surprise, when the storm hit the wall, it caused no explosion at all.
It only splashed upward like waves breaking against a seawall—harmless, it seemed.
Only for a moment.
Then, that seemingly gentle breeze transformed—
in an instant, it became a storm of invisible blades, slicing through everything in its path. Flesh and bone, or even the enchanted basalt bricks said to be unbreakable except by saints—none could resist its cold fury.
A sharp screech of friction filled the air as the wind gnawed against the wall.
Before their eyes, the towering fortifications and the soldiers upon them were ground to dust.
The defenders didn't even have time to scream before they were reduced to drifting clouds of blood mist.
"Those damned fur-covered beasts!"
Augustus cursed furiously.
He'd been sent here to protect that section of the wall—now that it was gone, what was there left to defend?
"Time to go, girl!"
He didn't wait for her response.
The dragon's massive claw reached down, grabbed the knight, and he turned tail to flee.
But the beastmen had no intention of letting them escape so easily.
They swarmed forward, determined to drag the two down.
New wounds tore open across Augustus's scales, deep enough to expose bone, dragon blood spilling like molten fire.
He couldn't help but feel a pang of anguish—his precious blood! Do they know how valuable this is? He could sell a vial and buy half a kingdom—and now it was just pouring into the dirt!
For a greedy dragon like him, it was pure torture.
"Damn it! This goes way beyond what I agreed to with your Church! You'd better pay me extra for this!"
He bellowed, swatting an attacker away with his tail.
But just as he tried to take to the skies, a blast of magic struck one of his wings, almost sending him crashing down.
"I'm sorry, Lord Augustus… if it weren't for my recklessness, you wouldn't be in such danger," said the knight girl remorsefully.
"Save it! If I die here, who's gonna enjoy all the rewards your Church promised me?"
Augustus roared, pumping his wings hard to climb higher.
He planned to use his natural draconic endurance to gain distance, then unleash his breath to cover his retreat.
But just as he turned to breathe his fiery blast—he froze.
The beastmen who had been relentlessly attacking moments before…
had suddenly fallen back.
Only one figure remained.
A young beastman girl with pale cyan hair.
"You're too slow," she said coldly to her retreating comrades. "We don't have time to waste."
Raising her staff, she pointed it toward Augustus and the knight.
[Supreme Destruction Magic: Breath of Despair].
A small vortex formed at the tip of her staff, spinning into a threadlike breeze that drifted upward toward them.
To the dragon's eyes, however, that delicate breeze was death itself.
He hurriedly conjured a legendary-grade round shield, interposing it in the wind's path.
The next instant, the shield was shredded into slivers—
turned to dust within a single heartbeat.
"What the hell is that?!"
Augustus shouted, panic rising, and tried to flee.
But the wind followed—relentless, silent, and impossible to escape. No matter how hard he beat his wings, it closed in, inch by inch.
It was like a curse—inescapable, inevitable.
Just as the deadly gust was about to consume them—
A deep, commanding voice rang out:
[Supreme Judgment Magic: Blade of Verdict].
A streak of violet lightning split the sky, slamming into the approaching breeze.
No explosion. No thunderclap.
The purple blade disintegrated on contact, scattering into countless sparks—but the wind vanished with it, erased into nothingness.
"Wind Calamity Gale—are you declaring war on us?"
From the horizon, a cloaked figure approached at incredible speed.
The white mantle billowed around him, embroidered in gold thread with five pairs of angelic wings crossed by swords—the emblem of the Sanctum Inquisition.
A dozen figures followed close behind, each radiating the unmistakable pressure of Saint-tier power.
"The Sanctum Knights? How honored I must be,"
the cyan-haired beastman girl—Gale—said mockingly, floating to meet them at eye level. Though her heart trembled, her expression stayed defiant.
"Hand over the angel," she said. "Or we will bring war upon you."
"Foolish words. If it's war you seek, then war you shall have."
The middle-aged knight slowly rolled up his sleeve, revealing a pale, slender arm.
"We've judged countless witches like you. Every one of them was just as arrogant before the end… but when the seals closed upon them, they all wept like children."
"You—!"
Before Gale could respond, a sardonic voice drifted from behind her.
"The Sixth Seat of the Sanctum Knights… the so-called 'Hand of Judgment,' hmm?"
A green-haired girl wrapped head to toe in bandages appeared behind Gale.
Her tone was dripping with disdain.
"You were nearly killed by a newly ascended Saint-tier witch. Tell me—what gives you the right to talk so big?"
"Pestilence Witch… Pestis!"
The knight's face hardened. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, ready to strike at any moment.
"Relax," Pestis said with a smile. "Neither side wants a Saint-tier battle. Let's leave this to the younger generation. We agreed—no Saints interfering in this war."
The knight hesitated, then grit his teeth and nodded.
"Fine."
He had no choice. Against most witches, he'd be confident. But this one—this plague-bearing demoness—was in a league of her own. Even if he risked everything, victory wasn't certain.
"Good. Then it's settled."
Pestis smiled sweetly and raised her hand.
A burst of black energy shot into the sky—and a massive black firework exploded above them.
Moments later, the distant horizon roared with noise.
From beyond the skyline, a dark tide surged forth—the beastman main army, every soldier a seasoned warrior of ascendant rank.
The true invasion had begun.