Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights - Chapter 314: Black Order’s Founder

Chapter 314: Black Order’s Founder

“You fear one orc?!” The Orc War Chieftain bellowed, facing his army.

Abaddon could understand what he said.

“Do I have your permission to kill?” He tilted his head toward Saul, who chuckled.

“By all means.”

With a roar, the Orc Chieftain charged at Abaddon, who slowly walked toward him. When Abaddon was within range, the Orc War Chieftain swung his flail at him. It descended with great force but Abaddon sidestepped, then slammed his foot into the ball, which had opened a massive hole on the ground.

The moment he slammed his foot into the flail, the spikes flattened as it lurched back with great speed. The War Chieftain narrowly evaded it, his eyes wide.

“You’re a disgrace to that weapon.” Abaddon’s voice rang. He knew of a terror. The morning star flail knight. The eclipse of death. Compared to her, this orc, this tenth strongest being, was…

Pathetic.

Abaddon flung his tomahawk at the War Chieftain, his eyes gleaming as the chieftain deflected the blow, launching the tomahawk into the air.

With a few steps, Abaddon closed in, swinging his axe at the Orc, who tightened his grasp around two ends of his chain. Sparks flew as he blocked the axe.

“Is that all a horde chief can do—?!”

The orc couldn’t finish his question when Abaddon grabbed the tomahawk that was descending and plunged it into the Chieftain’s skull.

He sighed. Basically, he didn’t even use his strength. All Abaddon did was mock the battle experience of an orc war chieftain.

His grasp around the handle of his axe tightened and he swung it, this time with some power. It split the orc he fought, cut down no less than fifty trees and took the lives of a hundred orcs.

Lucy watched towering trees fall as blood spurted from the standing corpse of a hundred huge orcs.

Was this the strength of one, just one of the captain’s summons?!

The other orcs were about to flee but Apollyon slammed her staff against the ground and a tall wall of ice rose up.

“Vagabonds!” Saul roared, eyes bright. “Shall we begin?!”

“Captain!”

“Captain!!”

“Captain!!!”

The Vagabonds chanted vigorously as they either sent their summons or used their weapons to face the remaining orcs.

Two orcs, the Chieftain’s guards, found themselves blocked away and someone appeared at the only way to exit this ice dead end.

Both of them stared at each other before looking at this nine feet tall knight clad in black armour.

“A woman?” One of them scowled. Apollyon understood them. Unfortunately, they didn’t understand why she was given the name Apollyon, especially since she was the founder of the Black Order.

One of the orc guards leaped while the other barreled toward her. Apollyon watched them get close before ice trapped them.

The first orc guard was still mid air as ice came from the ground and froze him right up to his chest, leaving his arms and head, but the cold might as well have killed him almost instantly.

The other one had his axe high, ready for a powerful downward swing when that arm froze and his feet also froze. Thick chunks of ice covered both the arm and his feet.

Purple marks, like their veins being damaged, spread out like wildfire. The curse of Apollyon’s ice.

“I could shatter you into a thousand ice shards but… wasting Paragons isn’t really wise.” Her lips moved as she drew near.

With a light tap of her staff, a fog of ice mist engulfed both of them. It cleared out after a while, revealing two blue skinned orcs with white eyes billowing with ice mist.

Their weapons were now made of her ice and their muscular bodies were covered with hardened ice armours. Billowing with mist so cold the air froze, these armoured orcs emitted a terrifying aura.

Apollyon’s lips curled into a thin smile.

An hour later, all the trucks continued their journey into the forest.

“Take a look at that.” One of Arden’s Regulars pointed at the window. Lucy looked and saw an armoured orc billowing with ice mist barreling through the forest, keeping up with their pace.

It bulldozed trees, leaving them completely frozen.

Lucy’s eyes widened.

“There’s another one here.” Another girl pointed at the other window. “The captain is on another level. I thought Captain Arian’s Ronin was awesome but those knights are beyond awesome.” She said with bright eyes.

“Those orcs won’t know what hit them.” The man driving the vehicle chuckled while Arden, who sat beside the driver, smiled a bit.

’Why do they seem… so similar to Godfrey’s knights?’ Lucy wondered. ’That ice also reminds me of Isolde.’

Her eyes flickered.

’I wish I could bring back the dead.’

***

Smoke rose up in a battle torn barren land. Isolde stood in the midst of huge dragon corpses, twenty four to be exact, their bodies casting dark shadows on her small form.

Sweat coated her skin, her hair was dishevelled and though she stood straight, holding a spear with the tip toward the ground, Isolde knew she was at the verge of collapsing.

She won. There were cores around her, nine were from top level Paragons, fifteen from top level Origins, those who thought she was tired and swooped in for the kill.

Blood dripped from her hands. The force of swinging her spear against those hard scales split her palms.

Three days. Isolde had been fighting for three days straight. With all these cores and battle essence gain, her tier would soar tremendously.

Isolde took the risk but it was worth it—!

She gasped, eyes wide as a long sharp icicle pierced through her right thigh!

Isolde’s eyes widened as she fell on one knee, struggling to support herself with the spear. Turning, her eyes met Sylphiette, gazing down at her from the hill she stood on.

“Sylphiette…” Her eyes trembled.

“I do admire you, mother but between serving you and becoming the mate of the father of dragons, it’s obvious which is better.” Her vast wings spread out.

“Hold yourself, little one, or I shall crush your head if you interfere.” Sylphiette glared at Grace, ice gathering in the depths of her throat.

Sylphiette breathed ice, engulfing the entire battlefield with spiked ice.

This wasn’t betrayal, it was survival of the fittest. And she, the Freezing Omen was the fittest.