Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer - Chapter 378
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- Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer
- Chapter 378 - 199. At the End of the Apocalypse -1 (Part One)
Translated by A Passing Wanderer
Edited by RED
The head of a vampire was split in half by Heis’s descending sword.
Meanwhile, the holy undead cavalry pressed forward; the vampires were ruthlessly crushed under the hooves of the skeleton horses and trampled to gory bits, while the rest of the bloodsuckers were impaled by the thrusting spears and lances.
The human knights swung their swords around to assist the holy undead.
Just as the Jötnar started getting flustered at the intense battles taking around their feet, many humans began leaping up towards the giants.
“We shall heed His Majesty the Holy Emperor’s command, and…”
“….hunt down the giants-!”
They were the Order of the Crimson Cross, clad in the red Rune Armour. Their scythes slashed down and sliced into the arms of Jötnar. When the giants stumbled and staggered around, the members of the Order of the Verdant Cross clad in green Rune Armour, took aim with their muskets and accurately punched shots through the heads of the huge creatures.
Many Jötnar, their heads blown apart, started to collapse one by one.
“Draw your weapons!”
Next up were the Paladins clad in golden Rune Armour, the Order of the Golden Cross. It included the likes of former holder of the Sword King title, Oscal Baldur, and his pupil Charlotte Heraiz.
The eyes under their helms burned with the thirst for battle. The sheer pressure emanating from them was indescribable.
Everywhere they surged past, the Jötnar were chopped and sliced apart by sword lights that the giants couldn’t even track properly.
Meanwhile, short-statured beings occupied the locations that the mounted troops had left behind.
“For the glory of Her Highness-!”
Dwarves kitted out in heavy armour raised up their war axes with scary-looking blades on either side. Using brute physical strength, easily twice as strong as other humanoid races, they chopped the legs of their enemies off and slammed their weapons down to crush the skulls of all the downed invaders.
Vampires continued to cry out tragically within the chaos.
The bloodsuckers hurriedly looked around themselves, but all they could see were the deaths of their kind.
“C-counter attack, now! Fight back!”
Dying without fighting back like this was basically the same as insulting His Majesty the Vampire King’s honour. And that was why a Baron-class vampire had yelled out loudly, but then…
Boom… boom… boom…!
Huge shadows loomed large over them.
The Baron-class vampire raised its head up, only for all colour to drain from its complexion. “…You accursed Aslan bastards!”
The shadows belonged to humongous elephants.
The armoured elephant corps from Aslan had joined the fray; every swing of their lengthy tusks caused countless zombies to fly up in the air. An elephant raised its thick foot, then ruthlessly crushed the cursing vampire Baron to a fine mush.
Slaves riding on top of the elephants were cracking their whips.
“Behold, you damn vampires! This is the glory of Aslan on full display! Oh, dear Yudai! I swear to destroy the souls of these undead living false lives!” one of the twelve former feudal lords of Aslan, Jeram, guffawed loudly as he directed the rampaging elephant.
He pressed his hands on the huge animal’s neck area and drove his divinity in. He had acquired this power from Holy Emperor Allen. Although that brat was responsible for destroying his homeland, Jeram had to agree that there was no better power than this!
“Let’s go!”
The elephants roared raucously and charged forward. The animals slammed straight into the Jötnar.
Their tusks not only impaled the giants, but even went on to rip right through them like pieces of paper. To the Jötnar, these Aslan elephants were like enraged wild boars going on a killing spree.
At the same time, shooting stars fired by the cannons began their descent from the heavens, crashing into the ground below.
“Adjust the trajectory to avoid hitting allied forces!” Hans calmly commanded the artillery regiment.
“Hmph, it’s time for this old man to get in on the action, then!” Cardinal Raphael threw off his top to reveal his well-toned and rippling muscles. He tightly grasped his crosier in his hands.
A storm of divinity rapidly flooded throughout his surroundings, and gifted all living beings with incredible strength and stamina.
Aslan’s former queen, Tina, was riding on a horse charging forward. Many monks were following close behind her.
Damon, who had assisted and guarded Tina all of her life, roared out, “Protect the Royal Princess!”
Aslan’s monks rushed forward to form a protective cordon with Tina in the middle. She lowered her staff, fashioned out of a branch of the World Tree, and touched the ground below as they continued to charge ahead.
All sorts of vegetation sprouted out from the land touched by her staff. The trees and vines tumbled and intertwined to form humanoid shapes, creating small giants around seven to eight metres tall.
The Woodmen summoned by Tina leapt up on the Jötnar and overwhelmed the giants, then more vines wrapped around their victims’ throats to choke them to death.
-You puny bastards, you really think you can win against me?!- The biggest Jötunn of them all roared out. It must’ve been almost twenty-five metres tall.
When this massive giant took a swipe with its arm, dozens of people were flung into the air. Even muskets didn’t work on this monster.
“Bone Dragon.”
One quiet muttering later, the ground below split open. The front limbs of the dragon burst through, before it dragged its entire bony body out.
Divinity contained within its pounding heart rippled out everywhere.
The undead dragon spread its wings wide open and with its maw split open, it howled monstrously in the air.
Just as the huge Jötunn faltered, the Bone Dragon chomped down on the giant’s head and spewed out its mighty Breath.
This battle was too overwhelmingly one-sided.
Vampires, lost to their despair, began looking behind them in the direction of the Hedron fiefdom, which was still obscured by the plumes of thick dust clouds.
They needed to retreat to there. The Vampire King and the kings of the giants must’ve arrived by now. Their combined army was the only force capable of defeating these abominable Imperial bastards!
“Retreat, retreat-!” Vampires urgently cried out.
They summoned more undead to serve as their shields and dashed back towards Hedron with all of their power.
“…We are sinners.”
One of the fleeing vampires felt this chill run down its spine just then. Its mind had been taken over by fear during its escape, and it had failed to observe the situation unfolding around itself. Even then, this vampire still got to see ‘it’ regardless.
The reason for that was simple enough.
“We are guilty of taking others’ misfortunes as our own happiness.”
The beings in front of the vampires were too numerous in number to escape notice. Not only that, they were standing in a formation to the left of the dusty hill the vampires were running towards.
These new entrants were clad in chain mail and white surcoats.
There didn’t seem to be any rhyme nor reason to them; they wielded all manners of weapons as they cracked their necks in anticipation. Watching the vampires urgently fleeing towards them, they began licking their lips expectantly.
They were none other than two thousand members of the Berserker Legion, all of them convicts that had been trained in the northern region of the empire, Ronia, to become mounted troops.
Their feudal lord, Jenald Ripang, had his hand pressed to his chest; his eyes were closed and his lips were quietly mouthing some words as if he was confessing his sins.
“The day when we find ourselves imprisoned in Purgatory to repent for our sins will definitely come, but for now…” Jenald soon opened his eyes. His rage-filled glare locked on the fleeing vampires. “We shall endeavour to lessen our sins, at least by a little bit.”
Ruppel next to him muttered out, “Let Gaia’s grace be with us.”
Jenald nodded, then yanked his sword out. “Finally, we…!”
The convicts began shuddering. They were indeed acting like short-fused berserkers who were itching for a fight.
“The time has come to repay the favour that Lord Saint has granted us!”
Jenald Ripang picked up a bugle with his free left hand. “All of you, get ready!”
He sucked in a deep breath, then blew into the bugle with all of his might.
Vu-wuuuuuu-!
That was the signal to charge into their enemies. The convicts all began grinning deeply.
Jenald moved the bugle away from his face and roared, “Charge!!!”
He lifted up the horse’s reins before whipping them down, and at the same time, his feet dug into the lower abdomen of his mount.
The horses of the Berserker Legion reared up grandly and snorted. These creatures, especially trained by feeding them with holy water, grew instantly agitated and glared at the vampires.
The convict mounted troops set off one by one.
Click, clack…
Clip, clop, clip…
Their advancing speed grew faster and faster.
The convicts lowered themselves in their saddles.
Two thousand mounted troops began charging fearlessly into the midst of the fleeing vampires.
“Oh-oooooh-!”
“Spears-!”
Vampires heard the incoming roars.
“Run, ruuuun-!”
The bloodsuckers fled even faster, squeezing out every last ounce of their energy. They concentrated all of their remaining demonic energy to their legs. They flailed about comically as they ran.
They simply had to escape from here.
Just a little further away. A little bit more!
The dust cloud was, figuratively speaking, right in front of the vampires’ noses. A hopeful expression floated up on a vampire’s face, its hand reaching out with a thought that it would survive this ordeal…
…only for its body to suddenly ‘vanish’ from the view. The cavalry crashed into the hapless vampire, and dozens of hooves trampled the undead into very fine meat paste.
The mounted troops continued to charge ahead while treating the dust cloud as their boundary, and cut off the vampires’ path of retreat.
The Jötnar were ruthlessly killed off, while vampires were slaughtered without exception.
When the last vampire fell, and the final Jötunn was chopped into pieces, Jenald Ripang raised his sword high in the air and declared loudly, “Victory! We have won!”
The soldiers all cheered out raucously at his declaration.
While everyone was celebrating, Allen was yanking his Spear out from the forehead of a dead Jötunn. He shifted his gaze over to the dust cloud densely spread all around the Hedron fiefdom.
Under the goat’s-skull helm, his eyes widened first before narrowing down to slits. “It’s not over yet.”