My Ex-Girlfriend Was Appointed as a Knight Commander

Chapter 166

The chaotic melee of hundreds of soldiers, clashing swords, and spraying blood painted a scene straight out of hell. Neither side gave ground easily. There was no organized front line or tactical formations; only scattered individuals swinging their swords recklessly, using the dense forest as makeshift cover.

“Get that one! Kill him!”

The soldiers of the Uninhabited Zone were no strangers to such battles. Though the forest environment was unfamiliar compared to the open plains they were accustomed to, their experience in chaotic, instinct-driven skirmishes with monsters served them well. They adapted quickly, relying on minimal communication to execute precise, synchronized attacks. One by one, Leon Benning’s knights fell.

“For the glory of the Uninhabited Zone!”

The soldiers showed no hesitation in sacrificing themselves. Crying out the names of their homeland and kingdom, they intercepted the knights’ blades, offering their arms and legs if it meant even slightly hindering the enemy. When a knight’s movement faltered, soldiers still mounted would trample the knight’s skulls with their horses’ hooves.

Crunch.

The knights, crushed and disoriented, would then be beheaded by foot soldiers. Those who claimed their kills quickly moved on to their next target. Like seasoned hunters of apex predators, the soldiers swiftly and skillfully hunted Leon Benning’s knights.

Yet the knights’ numbers didn’t diminish quickly enough. For every knight that fell, several soldiers were cut down in return. This grim reality wasn’t lost on the adjutant, who grew increasingly anxious. Though their forces outnumbered Leon Benning’s, the sheer skill and number of the enemy knights began to tilt the balance.

Boom!

Sparks flew into the sky, illuminating the Black Forest. The battle, which had started in an open clearing, had spread outward, leaving destruction in its wake and expanding the battlefield into the surrounding woods.

“You’ll regret crossing us,” growled the adjutant as his blade clashed with that of one of Leon Benning’s knights. His horse snorted, sharing its rider’s fury. The knight deftly parried the adjutant’s blow, countering with a thrust aimed at his leg. But the adjutant, reacting swiftly, deflected the attack, forcing the knight’s blade off course.

“Ha!”

The adjutant seized the opening and lunged, his sword slicing through the falling snow as it aimed for the knight’s neck. The knight barely evaded the thrust, tilting their head back just in time, but not without sustaining a shallow cut. Blood stained the snow as the knight yanked on their reins, retreating out of reach. The adjutant grimaced, realizing too late that he’d left himself open. The knight’s counterattack had slashed across his side.

“Damn rat.”

Glancing at the blood seeping from his wound, the adjutant clenched and unclenched his trembling hand, forcing his fingers to obey. His opponent was formidable. Hidden behind their visor, the knight was an enigma—a faceless shadow. Frost coated the narrow slits of the knight’s helmet, adding to the eerie, spectral image.

“Bastard.”

Fighting a foe whose gaze you couldn’t see was unnerving, especially one who matched or surpassed your skill. The adjutant assessed the prolonged exchange. There was no room for further hesitation. Gritting his teeth, he charged, urging his mount toward the knight. He couldn’t afford to use his aura yet—unlike the Border Duke, he wasn’t adept enough at mana control to maintain it for long.

Clang!

The knight paused, visibly startled as the Border Duke interrupted.

“Count Benning sent his only daughter to fight. Surely you haven’t forgotten the Raven Knights?”

“That wasn’t his doing,” Camilla snapped. “Don’t think for a second I’m blind to the kingdom’s politics.”

The knight faltered but quickly recovered, his tone growing more formal. “The Count has no wish to continue hostilities. He extends his apologies for past offenses.”

Silence stretched between them. Camilla’s icy gaze bored into the knight’s visor, as if trying to glimpse the man behind the mask.

“Surely, you don’t believe the drivel you’re spouting,” she said coldly.

“Count Benning does not jest.”

Camilla laughed—a short, bitter sound that quickly dissolved into silence. The air around her changed, her presence suffused with a chilling intensity.

“Dead men don’t return,” she murmured. “That’s the harshest lesson I’ve ever learned. Perhaps it’s one I’d have been better off not knowing.”

Raising her blade, she continued, “I wonder, does your master understand this truth?”

“...So it’s come to this.”

The knights raised their weapons, their postures tense. Camilla sneered. “For all his bravado, it seems your master is running scared. If he truly had the power to stop me, he wouldn’t be sending lapdogs to parley.”

The knight’s expression hardened. “This is Count Benning’s final offer. Do not squander it.”

“Final offer?” Camilla’s lips curled into a cruel smile as she steadied her blade. “We’ll see whose regrets weigh heavier.”

Before the battle could resume, a thunderous crash split the air. A massive mace embedded itself between the combatants, leaving a crater in the frozen ground.

Heavy footsteps approached, accompanied by a familiar, gruff voice.

“Seems I’ve gotten old—I was aiming for your head.”

Camilla turned to see Paola Simon emerging from the forest, flanked by the Raven Knights. Her smirk was unmistakable.

“Now, who was it you said made the wrong choice?”