Chapter 24: The Luminous Shadow Guards

The Dark Guards, who routed the rebels upon their arrival, were indeed worthy of the title of formidable warriors, collected by the Pitt family over generations. Not only did they withstand the encirclement of the Royal Knights—who, though unmounted, wielded greatswords—but they also held fast against the onslaught of the entire Inquisition Knights of the Church of Light. After a single exchange, all eighteen Dark Guards remained unscathed, standing cold and unyielding in their places. By contrast, the imperial warriors had lost a third of their number. The Knights of Light had suffered no casualties among their ranks, but their warhorses lay dead or dying all around, their carcasses scattered—a clear sign they had been torn apart by the Dark Guards. In the city, a knight without a horse was all but powerless, for their strength lay in their mounted charges.

“The Dark Guards are truly the legendary warriors, said to be worth ten thousand men each, forged by the Pitt family over several generations. Their power is terrifying!” the Roman Emperor exclaimed in awe.

“Knights of the Realm, change formation, advance!” ordered their leader.

The golden-armored warriors raised their greatswords to the sky, then leveled them at the eighteen Dark Guards, advancing in unison, each step accompanied by a shouted cadence. Their advance was slow but unyielding, like a mountain pressing forward, forcing the Dark Guards to give ground. In truth, the Dark Guards had neither feeling nor thought—only the battle instincts remaining from their mortal lives. Under such circumstances, they should have charged headlong into the greatswords. But Pitt was loath to sacrifice his precious warriors and so commanded them to withdraw. There was no need to waste such irreplaceable assets on the royal knights. For all their prowess, the gold-armored knights were merely well-equipped with the royal treasury’s resources. They were not the same as truly rare and powerful warriors or mages. The Pitt family had spent generations gathering these eighteen supreme fighters—they were the family’s trump card, not to be squandered here.

“Priests, augment the Knights of Light!” the Pope’s imperious voice rang out.

The priests began to chant. From the fallen bodies of warhorses rose spectral white shadows, which nuzzled the hands of their riders. The Knights of Light mounted these phantom steeds, reformed their lines, and prepared anew. All at once, the knights shone with pure white light, radiating from both rider and mount, their presence swelling as if knight and horse had merged into one.

The golden-armored warriors, well acquainted with the Knights of Light after countless campaigns together, made way for them. They knew that, under the priests’ blessing, the charge of the Knights of Light was unstoppable—a force that would crush all before it. Never had anything withstood their assault, not even a wall of steel.

The hooves of these spectral warhorses struck the ground with such force that sparks flew, and the earth trembled. Even the armor plates of the encircling golden knights rang out with the sound of metal clashing.

Just as the Dark Guards seemed doomed to fall beneath the iron hooves of the Knights of Light, an astonishing scene unfolded: the eighteen Dark Guards vanished into thin air, dissolving into wisps of smoke. The Pope, the Emperor, and all others were left gaping in bewilderment.

“Have you never wondered why they’re called the Dark Guards?” Pitt asked, watching as the Knights of Light collided, trampling one another in confusion, many falling and being crushed to paste. Pitt’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. This so-called invincible elite was nothing but trash—at least half had fallen by their own hand!

The Pope’s face turned livid; the Church’s famed charge, meant to turn the tide, had instead nearly annihilated its own knights. The shame would be unbearable.

“The Dark Guards are of the light attribute. By rights, they should be called the Guards of Light! But they’re called ‘Dark’ because they can meld with shadows—wherever there’s a shadow, they can hide. When you surrounded them, you should have pressed on and skewered them with your swords. But your foolish Pope chose to charge, just as he once chose the royal family over me. The moment your knights reached them, they merged into your own shadows. That’s why you saw your knights become mincemeat!” Pitt’s tone dripped with mockery.

“Why do you think I joined the Church of Light? It was to study relational magic. Only the greatest light mages can wield shadow magic to its fullest, making the Dark Guards ever stronger! Ha ha ha!”

“Mr. Pitt, for the sake of your past fellowship with these knights, will you let them go? I will bear all responsibility for this incident and its consequences alone,” the aged Pope pleaded, looking decades older, for the Knights of the Holy Inquisition were the Church’s ace—too precious to lose.

“I will, if you kill His Imperial Majesty the Emperor. Then I’ll release your knights and promise the Church of Light will be the sole faith of the magical world!” Pitt’s eyes glinted with cunning.

“Your Holiness, don’t listen to him—he’s trying to sow discord!” The Roman Emperor watched the old Pope warily.

“Mr. Pitt, please, don’t jest. You may kill me if you wish; I will not resist. But spare such jokes!” The Pope bared his neck, even pressing a dagger to it, but used a spell to amplify their conversation so that all could hear.

“Your Holiness, don’t! The Church of Light cannot lose you—we’ll fight!” cried the Knights of Light. They began to cast forbidden spells, burning their own life force, unleashing a blinding brilliance that banished all shadows, like the shadowless lamps of a hospital. One by one, the eighteen Dark Guards were forced from their hiding places, revealed and even scorched by the overwhelming light.

“Your Holiness, you truly are a cunning old fox!” Pitt was not angered. He gave the Pope a thumbs-up. “But how many lives can your knights afford to burn?”

“Your Majesty, quickly, have the royal knights form a circle and attack with greatswords!” the Pope urged, anxiety in his voice.

“What about the knights burning their lives in the center?” the Emperor asked, troubled.

“They sacrifice themselves for the Lord and the highest ideal; they will find glory in His embrace. Hurry, Your Majesty, do not let their sacrifice be in vain!” The Pope’s shameless reply made clear he had abandoned those knights.

“Royal Knights, attack with full force—sword formation!” The golden-armored warriors advanced, thrusting their swords into the luminous, self-sacrificing Knights of Light. With serene smiles, these fanatical believers fell, as if truly embraced by their god.

But when the field was littered with the bodies of the fallen, there was no sign of the Dark Guards—they had vanished once more. All eyes turned to Pitt.

Pitt winked at the Pope. “Surely you didn’t believe me so readily? My Dark Guards aren’t so easily slain. I told you—my study of light magic was for their sake. If my study of light magic was for shadow magic, then my relational magic ought to be even stronger, don’t you think? Therefore—”

“You mean—?” the Pope’s eyes narrowed in sudden realization.

“Exactly! In their Light Form, they’re immune to all physical attack. As long as there is light, the Dark Guards are invincible!” Pitt seemed to delight in toying with the Pope, perhaps because he knew the Pope was a fox—hunting foxes was so much more interesting than hunting wolves.

“Why all the explanation, then? They should just be called Light Guards!” A voice called out from atop the pyramid, unable to hold back. Chief Tyrannosaurus couldn’t help but mock Pitt, and the others jumped down as well.

“That’s one way to put it. I was mostly just amusing myself with the Pope!” Pitt replied, utterly shameless.

“Noble warriors, will you help us defeat this demon?” The Pope tried once more to recruit allies. “I can give you anything you desire!”

“And I, too—anything you want: gold, beauty, whatever you wish!” The Roman Emperor’s face was full of obsequiousness, devoid of any imperial dignity.

“My apologies, Your Majesties. We are merely passing through this world, heading to the Gate of Shennong for herbs. We do not belong here and cannot interfere in its affairs,” Wu Ming explained, exchanging a glance with Chief Tyrannosaurus. They had originally not intended to show themselves—if only Chief Tyrannosaurus had not jumped down. Hopefully, they wouldn’t end up empty-handed and in trouble.

“Forgive us for the interruption. Please, rest or observe as you wish. Once matters here are settled, I will send you all to the Mage’s Tower,” Pitt said, bowing courteously.

“Shouldn’t we help them?” Back on the observation deck atop the pyramid, Music watched as Pitt’s followers began slaughtering civilians, her heart heavy.

“Amitabha. Even if we tried to dissuade Pitt, he would not listen. Perhaps tying him up ourselves would lessen the bloodshed,” Monk Luokong murmured, equally troubled.

“Have you forgotten the world’s laws? We are not of this world. If we intervene, the world’s rules will suppress us—we wouldn’t even be able to use a tenth of our strength. Pitt would destroy us!” Lingmei reminded them.

And so, events in this world continued to unfold.