You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 349 The Curtain Falls on the Kings
The function of mortal armies became completely ineffective in this war of kings, only adding to the chaos.

The Shield Guards were the first to confront Iorion.

If two Orichalcos Knights were to fight to the death, the only possibility of death would be to be exhausted to death, because they would be unable to break through the defenses.

The evolution of warfare is the evolution of offense and defense.

The fact that the Glory Sword could leave marks on the copper plate armor was truly astonishing.

Only the Orichalcos shield could effectively resist that dazzling sword light.

Therefore, the Shield Guards charged forward without hesitation, and when the sword's light struck the steel shield, only minor scratches remained.

At this moment, a group of knights from the Papacy, brandishing their gleaming lances, rode over in droves.

There are red, black, and silver-white ones.

The three knightly orders, numbering nearly a thousand, formed three square formations and advanced step by step. Their momentum was like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing, extremely oppressive. This was the culmination of a century of the Holy See's accumulated experience, and no one dared to face such an army.

"Believers, quickly kill this king who defies the gods!" they shouted.

The Black Irons also shouted, "Loyal ones! Annihilate these rebels!!"

Three colors against one color, and war breaks out!

The light in the sky suddenly dimmed, plunging the surroundings into darkness. The black iron armor absorbed all kinds of light, storing that energy within the extraordinary metal, which could greatly extend the wearer's combat time.

The two sides were originally several tens of meters apart, with Iolion as the dividing line.

But with the first swing of Iori's sword, this buffer zone of several dozen meters was instantly overwhelmed by the two powerful armies.

They numbered only a few thousand or a few hundred, but when they charged, the earth trembled as if a thousand troops were galloping!
The clash of two torrents of steel!
A violent clash!
War tramples!

"White Knight! March forth!!"

Princess White Steel cried out, raising the White Dawn, the conqueror's sword, dazzling and radiant, now the only source of light on this chaotic battlefield.

As dawn breaks like snow, the White Knight arrives to save the people from the apocalypse—the legend from over a hundred years ago still resonates across this land.

Units such as the Storm Riders and Shattered Archers also became active, providing support from the outer perimeter.

"Axe Guards! Drink the secret potion! Today, we shall fight to the death!!" His Majesty Yarman said boldly. He had a ring of mithril vials hanging from his waist, totaling twenty or thirty vials. Now, only three vials remained. He drank the secret potion in one gulp, and his entire figure seemed to swell up. His thick beard looked like it was about to explode. He was clearly the legendary berserker who had descended.

The Axe Guard began their assault on the left flank of the Papal Army; the berserkers, fueled by the secret potion, were unstoppable.

"Kill!!" The Oak Elite soldiers also began to circle around and attack the right flank of the Papacy's army.

The ordinary believers along the way could not stop them in the slightest.

In such a high-intensity and brutal war, the Valley Army could only circle around on the outside. They couldn't break in. To maintain their complete formation, the battlefield was in chaos. They could only cover the vanguard battalion's strong charge.

The Berchtesga knights and stag knights roamed the outer perimeter.

Extraordinary armies, which are usually invisible and inaccessible to ordinary people, all crashed into this battlefield, charging back and forth, trampling this land beyond recognition!
The Blackburg Guard, wielding swords in both hands, forcefully cleaved the Demon Hunter Knight in two, knocking him to the ground.
The Knights of Judgment attacked Iolion with their lances;
The White Knight followed Iotashina on the battlefield, hunting down the Broken Archers;

The Knights of the Storm surged like a torrent, engulfing the Knights of the Stag, and then went to hunt down the knights of the Bechtus family;

Yarman led the Axe Guard to forcefully break through the silver-white Templar Knights, creating an opening. Nathan led the vanguard to charge in, their warhorses collapsing and unable to rise. The tall vanguard captain waved his sword.

Under the cover of the Valley Army, the witch cast spells without regard for the cost, sometimes witnessing the coming of night and sometimes seeing flames soaring through the sky.

They fought and fought, killing and killing, one after another, sacrificing their lives without hesitation.

They were highly skilled in martial arts, possessing the courage to fight against ten thousand ordinary people. However, on this cruel battlefield, they were just ordinary and unremarkable individuals.

The formations could no longer be reassembled; all the square formations had collapsed. Thousands of people fought each other, and although there were not many casualties, it was more brutal than any war. Everyone was shouting and screaming, feeling that enemies were everywhere.

The Papal Knights continued their offensive against Iolion, wearing down his physical strength and energy.

The Shield Guards stood guard at the front, and the Judgment Knights attacked again and again, suffering dozens or even hundreds of casualties, but still could not shake the figure of that king.

Iolion killed them with his own hands.

A crown of seven swords, a suit of fiery red armor, a crystal divine sword, and an immortal shield.

He shone brighter than anyone else, walking on the battlefield like a god.

He trampled the earth, causing it to bleed.

The Blackburg Guards attempted to aid their king, but were bogged down in the chaotic battlefield, feeling mired in a quagmire. They watched helplessly as the figure relentlessly charged forward, gradually disappearing from their sight.

They tried to call out to him, asking where he was going, but received no answer. Eventually, he truly disappeared into the vast enemy ranks.

……

Iolion is going to cut down the banner of the gods and win this victory.

"If we cut down the flag, the Black Iron Kingdom will live for another fifty years," he thought.

But he was tired, so very tired.

The spirit of his ancestors inspired him to move forward.

'Son of Ionus! Charge forward!'

He enjoys martial arts tournaments, but rarely fights himself.

At this moment, he was proficient in all kinds of martial arts. The will of the late king had been fully revived in his body, and he had also been endowed with those ancient and efficient combat experiences.

He fought his way through half the battlefield.

Having passed by the fiercely fighting Axe Guards, passed in front of the Valley Army's square formation, stepped over the fallen stag, appeared in the eyes of the Oak Elite, and now arrived here again.

Finally, he arrived a hundred meters away from the banner of the gods.

Under the holy flag, hundreds of nuns sang hymns silently watched him, their lifelike figures like phantoms of the underworld on earth.

They were dressed in simple clothes and sang melodious and ethereal songs.

The immense divine power pressed down on him, like an invisible hand squeezing him.

But he wore armor of resistance, and his soul was also protected inside the armor.

The armor comes from the Dark Ages of Lost Time. It is said to have been forged by the gods and imbued with magic during its creation, granting him immunity to negative status effects and divine power from sacred chants.

When the witches joined forces to attack the holy city, the alien witch was missing one of the two, lacking the armor to fight back. Otherwise, the witch forest might have really had a 50% chance of killing a god.

Now the three divine artifacts are combined into one.

Iolion withstood that immense pressure.

The Black Iron King said in anguish, "I am the ruler of this land, and no one can suppress me!"

His soul felt utterly weary, yet he resolutely swung his sword, cleaving through the void. It was as if he had struck a phantom, a ghost, something invisible.

From the perspective of the Netherworld, he severed those divine powers and the illusions of those nuns.

The nuns' faces turned deathly pale on the spot, and some of them cried out and then fainted.

Iorion walked step by step to the banner of the gods.

A sea of ​​weariness welled up from the depths of his soul and overwhelmed him.

The flagpole was thick and long, extremely tall, and the flag was like a sacred brocade hanging from the sky, woven with the pattern of the thirty-three divine thrones.

The banner collapsed, the Papacy withdrew its troops, and there was still a chance... So, he swung his sword and struck...

The movement came to an abrupt halt...

All my strength was exhausted.

In the final moments of his consciousness, he saw the shadows of the underworld suddenly expand.

An endless shadow, rising up, obscuring the earth, and engulfing the stars, was approaching him.

One shadow after another emerged from the shadows; they had wings, tails, claws, and breathed fire, and flew towards him in droves…

But he no longer felt tired.

I can't feel anything anymore.

……

The godlike figure had stopped moving at some point.

Iolion remained motionless.

The Grand Master of the Knights of Judgment approached, holding a lance forged from fine gold, and slowly drew near to stab the King of the End in the side.

The Black Iron King suddenly grabbed the tip of the golden lance and pulled the captain over. The captain was shocked and had no chance to resist. The Black Iron King swung his divine sword, and the high-ranking knight was instantly cleaved in two.

After doing all this, the golden lance slipped from the Black Iron King's hand.

He instinctively plunged the Greatsword of Glory into the ground, the hilt of the broadsword pressed against his chest, as if he were sleeping against the sword, like a monument to the end of the world.

He stood alone on the battlefield.

The armor stood alone on the battlefield.

A minute passed...

Two minutes have passed...

Fine powder and dust could be faintly seen drifting out from the gaps in the armor, more and more of them drifting out.

The wind swept up the debris and scattered it across the vast land.

The black iron crown slipped silently and fell onto the blood-stained earth, shattering into pieces.

The curse of Ionus has been lifted.

The Vatican has lost its last shackle.

The kings remained silent.

Everyone stopped fighting.

Much later, the three Black Iron Dukes—Raging Tide, Oakwood, and Cracked Armor—stepped forward and retrieved their family heirlooms. They dismantled the godlike figure completely.

But the armor was already empty.

At that moment, cries of anguish echoed from the battlefield.

"Your Majesty Yarman!"

The crowd saw a group of surviving axe guards surrounding a fallen berserker, who was none other than the King of Iceland. He had drunk a large amount of secret medicine to suppress his severe injuries, but now the injuries were backfiring, and he could no longer hold on.

The fallen king seemed about to say something; he raised his hand and pointed to the northern sky, but before he could utter a word, his hand slammed heavily to the ground.

He has passed away suddenly.

Everyone knows he is a man of his word. Ionos helped the first king of Iceland establish the Kingdom of Iceland. Now that the Iron Kingdom is in decline, he rushed here without hesitation, remembering the alliance agreement made more than a hundred years ago.

The Axe Guards were filled with grief and sorrow, and all of them shed tears.

Green's greatsword fell to the ground, stuck at an angle. He looked in the direction the King of Iceland had pointed and saw a few white elves drifting down from the gray sky.

His once frivolous face now held a touch of sorrow as he caught a cold snowflake with his fingertips, which melted instantly, leaving a chilling, bone-deep cold.

"It's snowing," Green said.

This snow came earlier than usual.

But then, his long, narrow, handsome eyes widened, and he could vaguely see some shadows in the clouds on the other side.

He was not the only witness.

The shadow was getting closer and clearer!

Amidst the incredulous and shocked gazes of everyone on the battlefield, those creatures arrived with the wings of a hurricane!

……

They were a race from the Dark Ages, enormous and evil.

The dragon has descended. It brings storms and flames, and fear spreads silently.

Standing atop the towering dragon's back was a woman, or perhaps a witch, while eight other dragons hovered in the sky, manipulating air currents and flapping their wings.

Riding her divine steed, Iotashina, with an air of nobility, proclaimed loudly, "This is the battlefield of the human kings, this land belongs to the human kings. We have not invited any foreign races here. Those who come, state your names!"

The witch said, "I am Cassandra Perea, the son of Selin. I inherited the Conqueror's Treasure in the faraway land of Ego and, on behalf of His Majesty Ionos, persuaded the dragons to fulfill their promise and come to aid the Dark Iron King."

“Our king has passed away; you have arrived too late,” the Black Irons all said.

“That’s a real shame,” she said, but no one seemed to believe her. Cassandra continued, “Now that the Dark Iron King is gone, the Dark Iron lands shall be mine. My subjects, I am your Dark Iron Queen.”

These words enraged Iotashina. She charged forward on horseback, angrily demanding, "Where did you come from, and how dare you call yourself queen!"

The witch said, "I have returned riding dragons, and they acknowledge me as the successor to His Majesty Ionus. Your Highness, will you contend with me for the right to inherit the Black Iron Lands?"

Princess White Steel retorted, "You are not worthy. If you dare stand before me, I will tear your tongue apart!"

The witch said, "But I'm standing in the sky now."

The dragon beneath her feet spewed out a blazing inferno. Princess White Steel swung her sword to cut the flames away, but the flames were fierce and continued to surge.

Her divine steed reacted with incredible speed, leaping three or four meters high to escape, but the dragon soared into the sky, relentlessly pursuing Princess White Steel. A raging fire scorched the plains.

Everyone was stunned by this unexpected turn of events.

Grand Duke Gael rode out, holding up his Shield of Immortality to deflect the dragonfire. Standing in front of Tashina, he said with a grim expression, "Witch? Dragon? I think you're tired of living!"

At this moment, the Shattered Archer and the Storm Rider also rushed out.

The former drew their bows and arrows, while the latter hurled sharp spears. Those swift and terrifying flying objects were difficult to disperse even with the air currents generated by the dragons' wings.

Cassandra had no choice but to raise the altitude with the dragons once again.

Cassandra retorted angrily, "I came to assert my sovereignty, and how dare you treat me like this?!"

Princess White Steel said, "What sovereignty do you have? You have no bloodline, no legal standing. A lump of mud dares to dream of touching the Iron Throne? Your tricks are too lame; you're not even fit to be a court jester."

The witch sneered, "Very well! When my army and the dragons reign supreme over Blackhold, let's see if you're still so stubborn!"

After she finished speaking, she flew back to the north with the group of dragons.

(End of this chapter)