The Distinguished Mr. Rose Chapter 147: Chapter 145: A Devastating Defeat

Read chapter 147 of The Distinguished Mr. Rose by QuiteTheSlacker on NovelPedia.

Chapter 145: A Devastating Defeat Chaos erupted in the dungeon as the yellow-clad invaders rushed into battle. The players’ captors had little time to react before they were assaulted by spells of piercing bolts, storms of granite, and beams of arcane energy the likes of which made the Franks’ prayers seem feeble in comparison. The circle magicians of this new world were truly a force to reckon with, but none stood out more than the swordsmen and their aura-covered weapons: those blades wreathed in shimmering razor-sharp light. One touch from its edge was enough to slice through armor like butter, and shackles were no exception. Whilst Lucius was still in the midst of enemy ranks, his fellows on the other hand were swiftly rescued by the rebels, their chains sliced away and allowing them full access to the system’s abilities again. There were even healers among the Morning Dawn’s ranks who attended to the injured of the group, healing them with esoteric incantations. Marco, Mili, Harper and Grace were raring to go, as were the other players after all the humiliation they had just endured. It wasn’t looking good for the villainess’s faction. They were disoriented, outnumbered, and rapidly decreasing in manpower. An important looking man who seemed to be the leader of the rebels approached the players and briefly conversed with them whilst his subordinates handled the fighting. No doubt he was giving them a stirring introduction about his cause and potential recruitment, but Lucius wasn’t concerned with that at the moment. The gentleman was much more interested in how the still-unshaken Ivan would react to this whole debacle. “My stoic friend, it appears you are in quite the trouble,” Lucius said to him while watching the rebels and soldiers fight. Ivan did not reply at first and merely glanced around the battlefield. It was quite the odd display, for the soldiers’ captain of all people to be so lethargic in this time of turmoil. He showed no emotion even when his fellows were cut down. The players were soon to escape, and yet his hand still remained sluggish, lazily hovering over his weapon’s handle. “Lucius, was it?” he eventually said. “Why not return to your companions? You will have no greater opportunity to do so than now.” The gentleman shrugged. “I suppose it depends. Will you freely let me go, even if it means disobeying your lady’s command?” Ivan uttered a dark chuckle. “Is it disobeying if I am simply terrible at my job?” “Indeed, if the man himself is not committed to his utmost.” “You are right. Yes, it would be betrayal. How disappointing… if only you hadn’t spoken, Lucius. You shouldn’t have exposed my lies. Now I have no more excuses to linger behind.” A menacing air began to envelop Ivan: dark, wispy, like a fog of shadows. His breathing grew long and weathered, releasing faint mists with each exhale as if the body inside was cold to the touch, and though Lucius couldn’t see his face he had no doubt the skin underneath the armor was pale like a ghost. For the first time, the man took a step forward and slowly unsheathed his blade. It was designed for execution, and was only pulled out for such. Ivan brandished it with a solemn and grave resolution, holding it with both hands, bringing it to his chest, and letting its edge be smothered in a wailing onslaught of ghostly dregs and light. Lucius supposed this was Aura, but it was not the one used by the other soldiers nor the rebel swordsmen. The Aura evoked by Ivan was of much more haunting quality. It looked like a gathering of specters and ghouls, the shades of the dead of whose lives were all taken by that greatsword’s murky edge. And soon more would join their numbers. “Why did you have to spur me on?” he sadly whispered. “Now more will have to die, for I cannot betray my mistress.” Ivan lifted his executioner’s blade, and then he swung. For a moment the entire area was consumed in the phantoms’ shade. It swept over all, arriving as if by destiny, and it swallo