Heaven's Greatest Professor

With a couple of people jumping into the gate of pulsating lights and disappearing, more began to drop the fight and run towards the gate, creating chaos in their wake.

A few of them got injured in their run as well. They hadn't seen the arrows of the orc archers coming and now lay on the cold ground, arrows struck to their bodies.

"Sister," one of her sisters called, as Cassandra took note of her surroundings. The little upper hand they had in the battle was washed out by the few who chose to abandon the fight to run towards the gate. The first two had been the catalyst; even now, more were joining them in the foolish endeavour.

There were even soldiers in the midst of them—they should be seasoned enough to know what their actions meant. But Cassandra didn't have high hopes when she saw Tayl Alebson leading his men through the obstruction of the forsaken. His goal, too, was the gate.

Everyone's goal was the same. But if they all abandoned their part of the fight, who was going to take care of the forsaken?

Cassandra felt a headache growing.

"Sister," her apprentice sister shouted, jerking her mind back to the present problem. They exchanged a look, and she nodded.

"Everyone, you cannot abandon the fight just yet," she said, forcing out all the compulsive nature of her power. She knew it would be difficult to bend the will of a mass of a couple dozen people, but she found no other way to do it. "We still need to finish off the forsaken... Victory is within our grasp. Do not abandon your post, fearing the battle.

Your cowardice will cause death and chaos within our numbers... Do not run rampantly... Do not throw away the chance of our hard-earned victory."

That faltered the movement of a bunch of the soldiers, as they turned back and fought off the forsaken. That would keep them busy for a time. Hopefully, that would be enough to gain victory, or at least a huge upper hand.

Warden had already taken care of most of the trolls, but half a dozen of them still remained, throwing their enormous weight into the battle. They needed to take care of them first to have a chance of victory.

"On to the trolls," she charged, magical power and supersonic waves dancing around her followed by a dozen of her sisters.

***

Not many of the forsaken remained, Warden thought. He couldn't see, but discovering that his blade wasn't meeting obstruction on every move, he was sure he had cut down the numbers of the forsaken by at least half.

He used a few Anti-gravity scripts to rise in the air and summoned his radiance power in large bulk. The dark essence in the air sucked in all the light, disabling him from seeing more than a couple of metres in radius around him.

He needed to see further than to set his target. Streaks of light flashed from his palm as it moved through the tangible darkness. Outlines of huge, robust figures of the trolls appeared in his sight. They roared upon seeing the signs of light, with much of their number remaining.

Warden brought out a small vial of energy regeneration potion and drank it completely. He charged at the troll nearest to him.

The troll couldn't see the blade swinging its way but instinctively hurled its limbs. It missed by a large margin, he could tell, with the tangible darkness shifting along the terrible arm strength of the troll.

Warden rode atop its arm and plunged his blade from the upper right. It struck the skull of the troll; the tough obstruction was evidence enough. Warden pushed forth his intent and more void essence as they drilled through the skin of the forsaken, destroying through all its defences.

Void energy infected the troll as the blade dug into its skull. It roared, struggling against the Purple-eyed fiend. Warden leapt up from its arm, bursting out with more strength.

[Higher-grade essence harvested.]

[+8.5 Recovery.]

[+7.9 Strength.]

[Congratulations! Your Strength has reached the Silver rank threshold of 150 points. Your physical power has reached a new height; you have gained slight impunity to attacks lower than silver grade.]

****

"Young Master Tayl," Cassandra shouted at the young lancer charging towards the gate, after killing two trolls in his wake. "You cannot leave like that."

Some might argue that he played his part by slaying half a dozen orcs and two trolls, not to mention the dozens of forsaken he left wounded. However, all of it was his fault to begin with, and the battle was far from over.

"You're not getting through to him," her apprentice sister said. Nobody was getting through to the man. His whole body was covered in wounds and discoloured blood, red, purple, and green mashed together to make a dark colour. His expression was enraged, eyes bloodshot as he broke through the encampment of the forsaken to draw towards the gate. "Use your voice."

Cassandra thought twice before nodding. There was no other way. Many would be heavily injured and fall if the guy left with his group.

"Tayl Alebson!" she shouted. "Do not leave before ending what you started!"

The berserk lancer stopped in his tracks, as he turned towards her. At first, a look of rage flashed across his face, but then recognition shone in his eyes. He glared at her. Cassandra knew that look. Nobody liked to feel a compelling tug at the back of their mind without their will. That was why she always tried to mould their subconsciousness before using tiny specks of compulsion to pave her way.

Unfortunately, Tayl Alebson did not leave her with any other choice to brute force her way. While it was ineffective on a larger scale, she could—

"YOU!" the young noble growled. "You cannot compel me into doing your bidding. None of you can!"

His feet were heavy, but he walked on towards the gate leaving those words.

"You stupid ass of a man! Take responsibility for what you have caused!"

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A short scene (that I forgot to write before) had been added at the end of the chapter titled as Slaughter (2)... if you still don't get it, clear cache of the app and check again...