Lyra's magic had taken effect long ago. Corbin could clearly feel the blessing of the Lightfoot Charm now. His body felt much lighter than usual, as if an invisible burden had been lifted. This sense of lightness flowed into Corbin's every movement, hinting at an agility and burst of power far beyond the ordinary that was about to be unleashed.
The magical fluctuation of the Veil of Shadow silently enveloped Corbin and Knight Owen, like an invisible web of dark shadow within the night. In this area where magic and darkness intertwined, their figures were indistinct and hazy. To outsiders, they appeared as merely a fleeting illusion, difficult to pinpoint precisely. This forced the enemy to abandon attempts at ranged or precise attacks, leaving only the risky option of closing the distance for a brutal, close-quarters engagement.
As the backs of Lyra, Matthew, and Rhodes disappeared at the end of the rugged downhill path, the shouts of killing and torchlight from the pursuers behind grew even more real, as if hungry beasts were roaring and closing in through the dark night. The brief silence was not a true pause, but the suffocating prelude to a storm, signaling that a cruel test, like a meat grinder, was about to begin. Corbin knew the real battle was just now unfolding.
In the distance, behind the surging torchlight and shadows, two indistinct dark figures appeared in Corbin's field of vision. Their forms were straight and tall, out of place among the chaotic, shorter smugglers, like two cold spikes in the darkness. It was the black-cloaked figures, they had caught up. Despite the distance, Corbin could feel a chilling aura emanating from them, carrying a deadly pressure.
Corbin and Knight Owen turned almost simultaneously, leaving their backs to their retreating companions and facing the surging firelight and shadows. The night wind howled, whipping Knight Owen's cloak. Though his face showed fatigue, his back was as solid as mountain rock, the most reassuring shield for Corbin at this moment. He had a safer path to retreat, yet he resolutely chose to stay, facing the coming storm alongside Corbin. In this instant, the middle-aged knight, usually somewhat casual, had eyes burning with a long-absent, fervent light belonging to a true warrior.
At this moment, the smugglers and Goblins had charged forward like a tide. Knight Owen suddenly lifted his foot, kicking a stone on the ground towards the enemy. The stone, imbued with Combat Aura, flew with a sharp whistle straight towards the enemy's face. The enemy instinctively raised a hand to shield their head and evade.
Just as Knight Owen was about to press his advantage, two agile, black-cloaked figures slipped in silently like vipers from the blind spots to Owen's left and right. The keen swords in their hands flashed with fierce cold light, cutting through the air with a sharp whistling sound. Working in perfect coordination, they struck directly at the vital points near Knight Owen's waist! The enemies were this cunning and efficient, clearly elite assassins specially trained by the smugglers' faction!
Knight Owen's weight was still forward, dealing with other enemies; he had no time to fully react to this sudden pincer attack! "Careful!" Corbin's pupils constricted, his heart clenched. A strong sense of crisis, combined with extreme worry for Knight Owen's safety, instantly ignited a power deep within Corbin's core!
For three years, Corbin had believed he only inherited the original body's extraordinary five senses, carefully hiding this peculiarity in this strange world. However, from the moment he replicated the Lightfoot Charm from Lyra, that special power within him, fused with the soul from another world, began to stir restlessly. After his initial weakness somewhat recovered, Corbin could not suppress the pulsing in his heart and constantly attempted to mobilize this power. At this moment, under the extreme catalysis of the life-or-death crisis before him, the soul power restraining his body finally broke free, erupted!
In that instant, a soft "buzz" seemed to explode in his mind. A feeling of spiritual power projecting outwards surged within him, and simultaneously, everything before his eyes, including those two fatal sword lights, seemed to be pulled into "slow motion." His Perception expanded rapidly outwards from his body's surface, precisely to the distance of Corbin's arm's reach, as if opening an invisible domain, solely under his control—one meter! Within this nascent domain, the trajectories of all attacks in Corbin's eyes became exceptionally slow and clear. Every muscle tremor of the close-quarters enemies, the angle of their weapon swings, and even the subtle changes in their eyes were crystal clear, as if he could see through to the intentions beneath their bones. This one-meter range was precisely the distance his arm could reach, like an "absolute reaction zone" completely under his control. The ultimate speed granted by the Lightfoot Charm, combined with this "slow-motion" extraordinary Perception, allowed Corbin to always react with uncanny agility the moment an enemy entered this range, making the most precise response with every dodge, parry, and counter-attack. He could even seize tiny openings that ordinary people could not, achieving accurate and deadly strikes.
He threw the light sword in his left hand. It whistled through the air, shooting directly towards the left enemy's head, with incredible speed. The assassin started in surprise and strained to bring their sword across their body, a faint Combat Aura glowing on the blade, attempting to parry. But Corbin's throw was too fast, the force too precise! The light sword, carrying irresistible impact, despite being partially parried, still pierced the assassin's arm and shoulder, pinning him fiercely to the ground, where he twitched in pain.
At the same time, Corbin quickly extended his right hand, grabbing Knight Owen's shoulder, and yanked him sharply backward! Knight Owen was pulled back by Corbin with a sudden, extreme motion, narrowly avoiding the right enemy's certain fatal strike. The fierce sword light grazed Owen's ribs, leaving a deep cut and drawing a spray of blood!
"Damn it!" Knight Owen stumbled back to his feet, a flicker of annoyance and post-crisis fear crossing his face. The sharp pain in his ribs made him grunt. Without a moment's hesitation, fighting through the discomfort, he reversed his grip and slammed his sword hilt hard into the right enemy's head, making a dull thud. The assassin tried to protect his head with Combat Aura, but Owen gritted his teeth and put all his strength into the blow. His Combat Aura defense shattered instantly! Then, his longsword followed with a sharp, powerful swing, severing the enemy's head, blood spurting like a fountain in the night!
He dealt with the threat on the right and immediately turned, his longsword ruthlessly following through to end the life of the other assassin who was pinned to the ground by Corbin's throw and attempting to struggle back up.
Just then, the black-cloaked figures in the distance moved! A chilling Ice Spike shot out from the finger of one of them, carrying bone-chilling cold that cut through the night sky, targetting the two of them!
Corbin and Knight Owen simultaneously rolled and dodged sideways, narrowly avoiding the sudden Ice Spike. The Ice Spike hit the ground with a sharp crack, shattering into countless ice fragments, the cold air spreading. The Mage's early intervention doubled their pressure. They knew the true fatal threat had entered the fray. No longer were they facing the close-quarters assassins; now they had to face the black-cloaked Mage lurking in the distance, and the main force of enemies surging like a tide. Their tactics needed to change instantly.
Owen breathed heavily, his face showing a hint of fatigue, but more so that familiar, bloody, self-mocking casualness Corbin knew. He looked at Corbin, his eyes complex—trust, helplessness, and a hint of resolute sacrifice. As he spoke, he swung his sword backhand, repelling enemies who were closing in again.
"Hey, young Corbin," Knight Owen said, his voice hoarse but carrying an undeniable firmness, "This time, if you're still holding back, the two of us are really going to die here. Ready, kid?"
Facing Knight Owen, who feigned ease but whose eyes were filled with gravity, the shock and lingering fear in Corbin's heart surged like a tide. But even more so, a fierce fighting spirit, ignited by Owen's willingness to sacrifice, burned brightly. He retrieved Rhodes's one-handed sword that was embedded in the enemy's corpse. Under the moonlight, the twin swords in Corbin's hands crossed, reflecting cold light, as if silently declaring their master's resolve.
"Don't worry, Uncle Owen," Corbin's voice was low, but each word was firm, as if squeezed from deep within his throat. The twin swords felt slightly heavy in Corbin's hands. "This time… I'll definitely give you a real show."
Corbin and Knight Owen exchanged a smile. All traces of jest vanished from their faces, leaving only grim battle intent. They tightened their grips on their weapons, muscles tensed, vigilantly watching the black-cloaked figures in the distance, while also facing the main force of enemies about to surge like a tide. The surrounding shouts of killing and footsteps were like the drumming of death, and the magical threat brought by the black-cloaked figures in the distance was like a sharp sword hanging overhead, ready to fall at any moment.