047 The Third Movement of the Ancient Sword

The soldiers, already in a state of emotional frenzy, were further incited by Bud's subtle provocation, as if taking a swig of spirits during a barbecue—suddenly intoxicated, they charged forward with wild abandon, as if they'd won the lottery. Burton, observing the faltering morale among his own troops, raised his sword and shouted, "Advance!"

Where the sword's edge pointed, all obstacles were swept aside. The soldiers, inspired by the veteran general's heroic figure, surged forward as though injected with adrenaline. The two sides, driven by fervent spirit, quickly clashed, but Burton's soldiers, though no less determined than Bud's troops, could not withstand the berserk, abnormal ferocity of their foes. Despite their utmost efforts, the disparity in strength was simply too great.

Burton, wounded and battered, refused to retreat. Should he show any sign of fatigue or withdrawal, his soldiers would lose their footing, and chaos would ensue—a situation he neither wanted nor dared contemplate. Andy had already been carried off the battlefield, struggling for survival. Twice now, Acacia had paid a steep price for the Giroud family's strategic blunders. Burton, half amused and half bitter, mocked himself—after a lifetime at the front, today he found himself outmaneuvered by a green youth. Was he truly growing old?

With these thoughts swirling, Burton stared resolutely at the renewed assault from Bud's forces. This time, he was left with no choice. Even if he fell, the Giroud family must stand on Acacia's battlefield to defend her! Gripping his sword tightly, Burton let out a roar, rallying his troops for a final charge to meet their fate.

Bud’s clear eyes were now entirely consumed by his rampaging emotions. Bloodshot and wild, his face twisted in fury, he charged forward heedless of everything, resembling a beast unleashed at dusk. Yet, his memories as a man remained; the sword technique he’d learned from childhood was not forgotten. In his frenzied state, he wielded his cherished swordsmanship with unparalleled vigor, making the most of his body's heightened power.

He cut a path through the fray, and upon seeing Burton, Bud felt a surge of excitement. If he could bring down this seemingly frail old man, returning to the imperial city would surely yield great rewards... Rewards? Bud, still caught up in his excitement, stared in disbelief at the blade that had pierced his chest.

This was... ? He hadn't even recalled the sword's name. Bud felt his body go limp, as if his blood had been drained—cold and numb. In a haze, his eyes closed forever.

As Bud slowly collapsed, the figure who had struck from behind withdrew her sword. The weapon was strikingly familiar: its sinister silver blade and fresh blood merged as though long-lost brothers reunited, the blade, once fed, gleaming with satisfaction. Its owner seemed to sense the sword's delight, and a smile finally graced her delicate face. Her eyes shone with a bloodthirsty gleam, and the bandages fluttering around her from the battle lent her an eerie air.

"General Ringfall?"

"It really is General Ringfall!"

"She's here to save us again!"

Recognizing her face and the ancient Dragonfang sword, the soldiers were elated, rallying with renewed vigor to counterattack the enemy. Hearing the familiar shouts, Ringfall emerged from her dazed trance, her mind rapidly filling with countless thoughts as she became aware of the Dragonfang in her grasp and the fierce battle raging around her.

Foremost among these thoughts was the realization: she was about to lose control again.

With this knowledge, Ringfall hesitated no longer. Using her exceptional agility, she leapt into the air, carving through the sky with her blade toward the direction where a certain someone was imprisoned.

In that direction, that someone, Liangyin, and Lance were desperately playing a game of "dodge the lightning balls," trying not to end up as roasted chicken. Suddenly, a chill swept through, and the powerful magical shield imprisoning the three mages was utterly helpless before the force of Ringfall's sword energy, dissolving into tears and drifting away as dust.

The bouncing spheres of electric current vanished into the distance. That someone patted her chest, finally breathing a sigh of relief, and just as she was about to thank Ringfall, only caught sight of her graceful silhouette disappearing into the battlefield. She gazed after Ringfall in admiration: truly, a good sister is one who can fight a crowd, charge onto the battlefield, command the scene, and subdue the criminals! We, powerless as we are, pale in comparison.

Liangyin brusquely interrupted her flights of fancy, "Go and handle Ringfall!"

"Handle?" she asked, still smiling dreamily at Ringfall's beauty. "Bring her home as a bride? Good, good!"

Smack! One blow to the head, she crouched on the ground, clutching her skull in tears. Liangyin stood with hands on hips, the queen of the battlefield, and shouted, "Can't you see Ringfall is acting strange?!"

"No," she replied, still tearful. "She’s just as icy as ever, queen of forbidden swords..."

Lance sighed, pinching her cheek and forcibly directing her gaze toward Ringfall. "Look carefully at what's in her hand!"

Following Lance's angle, she looked. "Dragonfang?! Wasn't Aunt Kui supposed to have locked it away? How did it end up back with Ringfall?"

"How should I know," Liangyin retorted grumpily. "Anyway, Lance and I will help out on the battlefield. You follow Ringfall and stop her before she hurts anyone!"

"How?" she asked, bewildered. "Tell Aunt Kui not to buy cheap safes?"

"Do it just like last time!" Lance would hear no more nonsense, dragging and shoving her in a reenactment of the previous successful effort to stop Ringfall’s rampage.

With Lance and Liangyin—two weapons of mass destruction—and Ringfall, the meat grinder herself, the tide of battle quickly stabilized and swung decisively to their favor. Old General Burton, rejuvenated, led the charge at the forefront, slaying enemies left and right.

As the enemy dwindled from a multitude to a rare few, that someone, helplessly thrown beside Ringfall, felt her anxiety mount. What if all the enemies were slain? What if Ringfall broke down? What if she started killing indiscriminately? Ah, ah, ah!

Even as she inwardly pleaded for mercy, her worst fears came to pass. Suddenly bereft of adversaries, Ringfall paused, uncertain what to do. The surrounding soldiers, celebrating victory, failed to spread their joy to her. Instead, she was enveloped by Dragonfang's murderous aura, with no outlet for her bloodlust. The dissatisfaction in her eyes grew deeper and more intense, and she gazed coldly at the cheering crowds. Dragonfang was slowly exerting its desire to kill, beginning to take control of Ringfall.

Something dangerous stirred.