Hearing this, Moonrithyll could not help giggling, her laughter clear and pleasant, with a hint of pride.
"Hehe, it seems you've underestimated me a little, Lord. In that case, I won't wait for you."
Before she had even finished speaking, she bent her knees slightly, and her whole body shot forward like a cannonball, vanishing from the top of the cliff in an instant.
"What an impatient woman." Watching Moonrithyll disappear, Nolan sighed helplessly.
Bonny Village, this quiet, peaceful, paradise-like... hell, welcomed uninvited guests today.
On this day, two figures like human meteors crashed into the small village, naturally unleashing a storm of blood.
As they began their frenzied slaughter, they did not even have time to look closely at the terrified faces around them.
It was just like Dio eating bread. You would not remember how many slices you had eaten, and you certainly would not have lofty standards when eating something meant only to fill your stomach.
The moment they landed with a crash, the first thing that rushed toward them was a chorus of miserable wails, like a weeping funeral song.
A warm, damp breath spread through the air, suffocating in its heaviness.
The nauseating stench and the sharp reek of blood seemed to seep in through every opening, pouring endlessly into their nostrils until it almost made them retch.
The ritual executors who had once stood high above others and enjoyed such reverence, and the master craftsmen skilled in creating marvelous jars, no longer asked, "What kind of jar would you like?"
Instead, they screamed themselves hoarse.
"Help!"
The contest between greatsword and fists was already nearly halfway through by the time the soldiers, sliding down the cliff on ropes, hurriedly arrived and followed behind the three of them with worshipful looks on their faces.
Nolan and Trina, as guests following their host's lead, both looked toward Moonrithyll. She did not disappoint. Her eyes shone brightly as she raised her voice and shouted,
"Let us swing the blades in our hands to our hearts' content and wipe out every last one of these damned creatures!"
At those words, everyone's blood surged. They shouted in encouragement and threw themselves into the slaughter.
"This is more boring than I expected. Why don't we just finish them all off at once?"
With another dull, heavy impact, a Hornsent's body collapsed to the ground. Nolan shook out his hand, turned to Moonrithyll beside him, and suddenly asked.
They stood on the same blood-soaked battlefield, surrounded on all sides by scattered corpses, severed limbs, and broken arms.
Nolan and Moonrithyll were like gods of slaughter, harvesting enemy lives with nothing but the blades in their hands and their own fists and feet.
Each time they killed or knocked down an enemy, they muttered a count under their breath.
"One."
"Two."
As if such simple counting could add some strange amusement to this brutal massacre. No one knew when this odd contest had even begun.
The greatsword cut people apart. Fists and feet smashed them to pieces. The repetition had grown almost dull.
And yet, for some reason, their spirits remained high. Their eyes kept drifting toward those horned creatures. The method of killing could become tiresome, but the killing itself did not.
Nolan simply wanted to try another way now. The result would be the same regardless.
Hearing Nolan's suggestion, Moonrithyll showed a trace of curiosity and asked,
"What? Do you still have some trump card capable of ending the war that you haven't used yet? Speaking of which, you have quite the close relationship with our Princess. Could it be that you've mastered the Twin Moons?"
Moonrithyll fixed her gaze on Nolan, as if trying to catch the slightest clue from his expression.
The legendary moon sorceries were spells only the royal family could study, and she very much wanted to know just how important this man was in the Princess's heart.
"That's right. I did learn Ranni's Dark Moon, but using it here probably wouldn't be appropriate."
As Nolan answered Moonrithyll's question, his fists kept moving, as though stopping the slaughter even for a moment would mean losing.
"Then use whatever move you like. I happen to want to see what a Lord can do."
Moonrithyll lightly licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with intense interest.
For once, Nolan stopped. Trina, lying on his back, stretched her neck.
Trina raised her head high, her face full of arrogant pride, looking exactly as if she were declaring,
"Witness a miracle!"
Praise the Sun!
The entire world seemed to light up.
Nolan stood in place, simply standing there, as golden lightning like the sun in the high heavens surged and burst from his tall body.
"My heavens! What is that thing, and why is it so bright? Is Her Highness the Princess's Lord Consort a glintstone lamp reborn?"
Moonrithyll hurriedly raised her arm to shield her eyes from the light.
She was almost blinded by that overwhelming glare. With such intensity, if someone used this in battle, even Godfrey would have to stagger.
In that instant, she clearly heard the piercing crackle of electricity howl past her ears like a gale.
Her heart sank, and half her body went cold.
This spectacular-looking attack would not wipe her out along with them, would it?
Within her blurred vision, beautiful golden light flickered and flowed.
Of course, it was not some treasure hoarded by the Hornsent. It was a walking, human-shaped sun, a willful and cold sun.
The scorching lightning did not pierce into her body as she had expected.
But merely brushing past was enough to send a burning pain across her skin, as though she had been scorched by fire.
In the end, she closed her eyes.
There was nothing else she could do.
The light was too dazzling, yet it also radiated an irresistible warmth. She could not help wanting to lower her eyelids, sink into that warmth, and sleep there beautifully for a while.
An incomparable power instantly wrapped itself around her entire body.
That lofty, overwhelming power, as though the world itself had accepted her, left her completely intoxicated and unable to break free.
Moonrithyll instinctively reached out with both hands, slowly and firmly clenching her fists, as if she wanted to seize that fleeting thunderbolt in her palms.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, she could never catch that lightning.
It was as if the thunderbolt had a will of its own and deliberately avoided her.
But it did not avoid her out of disdain or disgust. It was simply because it did not wish to hurt her.
If I really caught it, my own body would be the first to fall apart, wouldn't it...
Moonrithyll mocked herself bitterly in her heart.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly in that moment, yet in truth, it was no more than the brief instant of closing and opening one's eyes.