Prince Jarvan IV's combat skills were well-known among his elite guards, and they were not surprised by his actions.
After all, these techniques were taught to the prince by the king's most trusted general, Xin Zhao, and had been approved by Jarvan III.
As for whether this so-called "spiritual power" could be considered magic...
Given they were on the battlefield and surrounded by trusted allies, and considering many of Demacia's nobility had conflicts with the mageseekers, they naturally separated "spiritual power" from magic.
The soldiers who fought alongside Jarvan IV, feeling as close as brothers, were not bothered by this distinction.
However, the Noxian soldiers, terrified by the upheaval caused by the prince's attack, became hesitant and reluctant to continue fighting him.
The single strike had been enough to kill hundreds of soldiers and injure dozens more. The towering stone pillars that had sprung from the ground...
It was clear to any observer that this prince was no ordinary person!
In the Rune Lands, any mage of even the most basic level was not to be trifled with, let alone someone like the Shield Prince with such formidable magical and martial prowess.
Who would dare face a figure with both magical abilities and such high combat strength?
Jarvan IV's "Cataclysm" had created a breach in the southern Noxian defenses. He shouted to his soldiers behind him, "The line has been broken. Everyone, follow me and break through the encirclement!"
"Charge!"
"Protect the prince!"
"Fight for Demacia!"
"Kill these Noxian scum!"
The cries of Demacian soldiers roared as their overwhelming presence crushed the Noxians. With spears and shields held high, they surged behind Jarvan IV, breaking through the southern Noxian line and escaping the encirclement.
However, during this retreat, one soldier who had been injured in the leg fell behind and was cut down by pursuing Noxian soldiers.
Jarvan IV thrust his spear through an enemy's chest, then kicked the body away, his eyes burning with anger.
At that moment, Ted looked at him and said, "Your Highness, hurry! We'll handle things here!"
As soon as he spoke, Ted turned and ordered the remaining forty soldiers to form a defensive line.
The soldiers, armed with shields in their left hands and spears in their right, created a human and steel wall.
When the pursuing Noxian soldiers charged, the Demacians thrust their spears forward, impaling the enemy.
Yet, despite their bravery, the sheer number of Noxians was overwhelming. Within seconds, the forty soldiers, including Captain Ted, were swarmed and lost from sight.
"—Ted!" Jarvan IV's face reddened as he turned back, crying out in anguish.
The two soldiers beside him quickly supported his arms, trying to maintain his speed.
"Your Highness, we must leave!"
"Hurry, Your Highness! We can't let Captain Ted's sacrifice be in vain!"
Heeding the soldiers' advice, Jarvan IV forced himself to put aside his grief, turning his face grimly and continuing with the plan.
While Ted's personal strength might not have been exceptional, his military command was as competent as any Demacian general's. With just forty soldiers ready to sacrifice themselves, he had managed to delay two to three hundred Noxians and even killed more enemies than they had in their earlier defensive stance.
Moreover, the Noxian pursuit was disrupted by their delay, and the number of soldiers able to catch up to Jarvan IV dwindled.
Even those who did catch up would not match the elite soldiers in terms of skill.
Besides, they were about to enter the forest at the base of the Argent Mountains, where the terrain was complex and densely vegetated, even in winter.
This was the Demacian border, far from Noxus. They only needed to delay for ten to fifteen days. By then, when news of the prince's encirclement reached the capital, the king would send the Dauntless Vanguard to rescue his son.
The plan was proceeding smoothly. Twenty soldiers rushed south towards the forest.
Noxian squads on modified bikes with chains and wheels occasionally caught up but were quickly dispatched.
Jarvan IV was not surprised by these vehicles, which had become popular in Piltover over the past two years. They were quite convenient. However, due to Demacia's closed trade policies, such bikes were rare in the capital.
In the current dire situation, Jarvan IV saw these bikes as a stroke of luck, a gift from Noxus in their moment of vulnerability.
Though he had never ridden such a vehicle, after just a minute or two of experimentation, they quickly grasped the key—maintaining balance.
With the number of bikes now totaling twenty-one, their escape speed increased, and their physical exertion decreased.
What would normally take over two hours to reach the southern Argent Mountains' forest now only required thirty to forty minutes.
This should have been an exhilarating development.
But then...
"Wait!"
Jarvan IV suddenly slammed on the brakes, bringing his bike to a halt. The soldiers following closely behind also hurriedly stopped.
"Your Highness, this is a barren area. We need to reach the forest before we can rest," said Alberk, who had taken over Ted's position.
Jarvan IV frowned, shaking his head, and glanced back at his soldiers. "Do you smell blood?"
The soldiers looked at each other, puzzled.
"Perhaps it's the smell from the bike," one suggested. "We might have gotten blood on it when we killed those scoundrels."
"Maybe it's the scent of rust?" another soldier proposed. "It's been snowing occasionally, and the air is damp. The bike might have rust on it."
"No, it's the scent of fresh blood… None of you are injured, are you?"
When everyone shook their heads in denial, Jarvan IV lowered his head to ponder where the faint scent of blood might be coming from.
Suddenly, he seemed to realize something, and he widened his eyes, scanning his subordinates once more.
"1, 2, 3… 17, 18, 19? Why are there only 19 of us?!"
At the prince's astonished exclamation, the soldiers quickly counted heads and realized someone was indeed missing.
"Report, Morris is missing!"
Jarvan IV paused for less than a second before dismounting his bike, brandishing his spear in a combat-ready stance. "Enemy attack, prepare for battle!"
The other soldiers, recognizing the seriousness of the situation, dismounted their bikes, unsheathed their shields, and formed a defensive circle around the prince.
But after five or six minutes, the cunning enemy still did not appear.
"Your Highness… we haven't shaken off the Noxian pursuers by much. We can't afford to waste more time here," Alberk urged with concern.
Jarvan IV closed his eyes, remaining silent, his grip tightening around his spear, his expression grave, his brows furrowed deeply.
After a moment, he suddenly opened his intense eyes, drew his side sword, and, just like throwing the Demacian battle flag, hurled it like a javelin towards a certain direction.
The soldiers' attention shifted to where the prince's sword was flying.
But the next moment, they were stunned.
The sword abruptly froze in mid-air, as if it had pierced an invisible wall of air.
Then, a dark red blood mist appeared around the sword, crushing the blade, which was supported by special materials and crafted by the finest Demacian royal blacksmiths, into fragments.
Jarvan IV narrowed his eyes, his expression growing even more serious.
"Truly worthy of being Demacia's prince. I've always been meticulous, and even the killing of that soldier went unnoticed, yet you managed to detect our presence?"
A cold, middle-aged woman's voice, incongruous with the situation, emanated from the blood mist.
The mist then slowly descended, coalescing into a white-haired middle-aged woman clad in standard Noxian plate armor and a crimson cloak.
She wore a faint, indifferent smile, her skin sickly pale as if she hadn't seen the sun in a long time.
Her crimson eyes, like blood-red gemstones, flickered with a sharp, scrutinizing gaze, giving Jarvan IV the sensation of his skin being sliced.
"Tsk, filthy blood mages…"
(End of Chapter)
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