The Adventures of an Overpowered Knight in Another World Chapter 586- Demonic City

"Who is this man that Duvessa, the Lord of Graves, views as a grave threat?"

Intrigued, Astaroth inquired.

"A knight from Solaris. The hero called Reinhardt Arcknight. He commands the detestable holy energy and bears the title of Divine Paladin."

Following the proverb 'once bitten, twice shy,' Duvessa thoroughly probed this individual and boosted his status on her roster of humanity's greatest perils.

"Holy energy, is it? That cursed might from the... goddess. Fine then, I'll probe this fellow personally."

Astaroth's demeanor darkened. He promptly steered the discussion elsewhere.

"Where are your troops? Why arrive by yourself?"

"Lord Astaroth, our legions remain stationed in the Tainted Lands. We left them behind to avoid alarming the Seven Kingdoms and neighboring realms."

The massive Beleth provided the reply. Newly ascended among demons, his strength unsteady, he recognized his place well.

Astaroth waved it away; their armies' help wasn't required anyhow. His own troops, combined with tens of thousands of demons confined here, proved ample.

Yet he grasped the reason the Eleventh and Twelfth Heavenly Kings failed to appear—they lay dead already.

But where stood the Seventh?

Cunning as always, Duvessa divined his thoughts from one look and responded.

"Those winged lizards pose tougher adversaries than anticipated. The Seventh Heavenly King was summoned back to reinforce the Forces of Darkness' primary host."

Beleth lingered in confusion, as Astaroth and Duvessa traded an insightful gaze.

Demons who had persisted through centuries grasped truths hidden from fledgling kin.

"Understood. Thus, we three must shatter the remnants' defiance and claim Valdonia."

A shared accord linked the trio of Heavenly Kings.

"Overthrowing the kingdom overhead will shatter this era's equilibrium. Next, we exploit their frailties to fell them sequentially. Still, this generation's champions could overwhelm even our trio"...

"Precisely why we should fix our gaze on one particular group initially. They form a truly intriguing bunch."

Duvessa declared, a sly grin playing on her mouth.

"Intriguing? Explain how."

"Well, the topic of their studies..."

.

In a corner of Level One within Hollow Earth.

A woman with platinum-gold tresses, elven ears, and refined features reclined silently upon her bed.

Her stature towered elegantly, curves generous and alluring. With her innate regal bearing, she embodied perfect beauty.

The elf woman blankly fixed her sight on the overhead. Her existence marked by turmoil; others in her position might have surrendered their will.

Nevertheless, amid relentless hardships, her resolve held firm. Though lost in reverie, a defiant gleam burned in her gaze.

"The blood coursing through you holds supreme nobility. You sense it not yet, but the day will come—our forebears, our territory, your very lineage. Let no humans sully it, as you remain Elfenheim's sole surviving royal."

Her mother's final utterance, blood streaming from wounds, lingered vividly in recollection. Even if solely for others, survival demanded endurance until fleeing this nightmare pit.

Correct—even now, escape occupied her thoughts.

"How fares Lirae, I wonder?"

The bashful young elf who once strayed into their woods, evolving into a cherished little-sister figure.

She pondered the girl's current state.

Did she slip away from those troops?

Should she have, where might she dwell?

Was life treating her kindly?

One year elapsed, anxiety steadily consuming her.

"I shall flee this prison and seek you out."

Determination ignited within her formerly vacant stare.

Unaware of broader happenings, guards displayed odd stirrings over recent days.

Vigilance throughout the area had notably slackened.

An opening presented itself.

By this stage, Level One's map and the guards' ingress-egress portal were etched in her mind.

Allied with sympathetic captives nearby, success in breakout seemed plausible.

Clutching these aspirations, the High Elf awaited forthcoming events, blind to destiny's intricate weaving.

.

.

Fierce winds wailed like agonized creatures sweeping the flatlands. Reinhardt spearheaded the pounding procession.

His cloak of white, adorned with the Temple of Light emblem, billowed madly in his wake.

Encircling him, order knights maintained compact array, steeds panting heavily amid their furious advance.

Days blurred in ceaseless gallop. Halts occurred solely when indispensable. No true respite.

Dire circumstances compelled such haste.

During the Summit, as leaders from the Seven Kingdoms and lesser nations assembled at a grand table to deliberate on worldly matters, dire news struck them abruptly like thunder from a clear sky.

Every link to the Kingdom of Lunaris was abruptly cut. Envoys dispatched there failed to return. Mana communication arrays went silent, and merchant caravans simply disappeared.

An unseen barrier seemed to have fallen across the whole kingdom, severing it from the outside world.

What could compel Lunaris to shut itself away from everyone else?

Initially, it appeared as mere avoidance of the summit. Yet as reports kept pouring in, the grim reality sharpened into focus.

A massive event had struck Lunaris, engulfing the entire nation.

Reinhardt could no longer remain idle. He'd placed his faith in diplomatic channels, aiming to claim Cecilia through proper means.

But upon hearing the news at the summit, a chilling premonition gripped him. He refused to leave the outcome of his schemes to mere chance.

Cecilia, the High Elf Priestess he sought, resided in the Kingdom of Lunaris. Should disaster have befallen it, reaching her became his top priority.

With diplomacy crumbling, only his raw power remained, even if it required forcing entry into the kingdom.

A single look into his eyes revealed his resolve to the Queen. Far from halting him, she supported him fully.

She bestowed upon him official authority and a mandate to probe Lunaris and uncover the reason for its sealed borders.

Reinhardt seized the assignment instantly and departed that same day.

Days afterward, their group drew nearer to Lunaris.

The landscape shifted around them, amplifying the dark foreboding in his chest.

Dark clouds loomed on the horizon ahead, blanketing the entire sky. Sunlight struggled to pierce the roiling layers of gloom.

The nearer they ventured, the thicker the air grew.

Upon nearing the kingdom's frontiers, silence fell among the knights; no words were exchanged.

Even the most talkative ones fell quiet, scanning their surroundings with tense faces.

Reinhardt stayed silent, pressing forward on horseback.

By then, darkness enveloped their surroundings. The air turned thick and oppressive, hard to inhale, laced with a subtle metallic tang.

A smell all too known to knights—the stench of blood.

Overhead, clouds writhed and boiled in eerie patterns, showering down specks of ashen corruption.

This sight, this transformation, struck a chord of deep recognition in him.

Reinhardt reined in his mount.

The knights trailing him came to a stop one by one.

They had arrived at the target.

Ahead lay the Kingdom of Lunaris—or its shattered remnants.

Hush blanketed the order; not a soul spoke. They gaped mutely in shock.

Veteran Holy Knights and senior members knew such horrors well. But fresh knights, squires, and recruits reeled from the terror.

En route, they'd skirted a ruined fortress, devoid of life—no troops, no sentries atop the towers. It resembled total abandonment.

Now at a town, the same desolation reigned.

Streets and structures stood empty. Lamps flickered, yet nothing stirred save chilling gusts, evoking a spectral ghost town.

As Reinhardt and the Order of the Temple of Light advanced cautiously, they scoured the area.

Chaotic scorch patterns marred the earth. Yet these weren't from flames.

Reinhardt swung down from his steed and knelt to feel the soil.