Treatise Of A Failed Knight-Chapter 244: Courting Death

The Vermillion Trap Array!

It is the masterpiece of the Eastern Sects, an invincible formation that cannot be escaped no matter how much one tries.

An entire domain is covered in vermillion hue, creating an impenetrable boundary around those it ensnares. All kinds of illusions can be played within this array. It can also interfere with the activation of certain mystical effects of the enemies while also amplifying the mystical effects of allies.

The Array can also be coupled with more specialized effects through coupling.

With such a vast range of uses, many have praised the Vermillion Trap Array for being a genius masterpiece.

It is not without weaknesses, however.

The biggest one is the consumption of Special Resources, which it uses as fuel.

There is also the difficulty of range. The targets are required to enter the range of the array and stay within it for some time before it can take full effect.

The array also requires delicacy in its operation. The one who has master control must have a high mental power and should also be incredibly skilled at multitasking.

In fact, they take Potions—or rather, Elixirs—in order to achieve this level of mental prowess.

They also require a good number of skilled assistants that will handle each pillar and the intricate complexities of the formation.

Needless to say, it is a very tasking venture.

But the benefits are worth it.

Once inside... the target is already doomed.

Those who are lured in can only be freed as a result of external interference.

But the nine pillars of the array are also difficult to collapse due to the level of pure energy that flows from them into the barrier.

Besides...

’We have 12 of the 13 Sect Leaders present within the Vermillion Trap Array, as well as skilled Martial Artists and Cultivators.’

Most of the Cultivators are busy manning the array, but there are still some that remain within its boundary to assist their Sect Leaders in taking down the adversary.

What are Cultivators?

What makes them so different from Martial Artists? Well...

In simple terms, they are like Shamans.

They use the innate mystical qualities of Special Resources to activate Spells and all kinds of supernatural effects.

Unlike Shamans who conjure absurd constructs through Spells, Cultivators have a more organized method of activation.

They divide their powers into Techniques and Stages. Certain Techniques can only be learned in certain stages, and the higher one’s Cultivation Stage, the stronger and faster their Techniques will be.

This is because of... ahh...

... Never mind.

The most important thing to note is that Cultivators bear differences with Shamans due to things like Dantians and Meridians, certain concepts that rely on Special Resources being infused into the body to create a more seamless progression of power.

But that is not very relevant now.

Kalakuta and his twelve close aides have been trapped by the Vermillion Trap Array, and they have also been surrounded from all sides.

Escape is impossible.

Death is imminent.

What now?

"Most of my Armaments aren’t working..."

"Same here."

"Only our B Grade Armaments are working, and they aren’t functioning to optimal effect."

"It’s this formation..." Kalakuta sighs as he casts a solemn gaze on the crimson sky above him and feels a mounting pressure.

Even though the Knight had warned him, he ended up falling for this trap.

’How foolish...’ A wry smile forms on his face.

In the end, he was too blinded by what could be that he failed to properly account for what would likely occur.

The Eastern Sects had deceived them.

They had already decided to continue with their corrupt government, but they simply lied to Kalakuta to lure him into this trap.

And now...

"Don’t struggle, and we’ll grant you a quick death." The Council Leader steps forward, leading the charge of other Sect Leaders who have wide grins on their faces.

Although initially thirteen of them were present in the banquet, one was merely a body double and had been dismissed once the array was found out.

Thus, while Zheng Yue is in the formation, commanding its actions, his twelve colleagues will finish things off from within.

"We will never surrender to the likes of you."

Kalakuta maintains his bold stance, his fierce gaze brimming with an unyielding spirit.

"Hmph! Courting death!" One of the Sect Leaders scoff, shaking their heads. "He has eyes but fails to see Mount Tai."

"Indeed."

"Oh well. You will meet your end today."

As this is happening, a rather complex change also begins to occur amongst Kalakuta’s circle.

"Don’t panic. I can use my Spells to create a formation within this formation that will grant us full control over our weapons. Once that happens, I’ll be vulnerable."

"R-really?" Kalakuta glances at Garett, who whispers these words to him with a nervous look on his face.

"Yes. While I’m in this vulnerable state, I’ll work on analyzing the Vermillion Trap Array. If I can create an opening for us, that will be for the best. But that will take some time. Until then, you will have to protect me and keep fighting the enemiesm"

"I understand. Make it happen."

Kalakuta tightens his grip on his Pathfinder, feeling the dark crimson energy crackling all around it.

Just as Garett said... It is at full power now.

The mini-formation has granted them control over their Armaments.

But so what?

They are still severely outnumbered.

’Still... we have a fighting chance now. Kamal has his Potions, which can help us maintain our position for some time. Once Garett finds a way out of this for us, we will make our escape somehow.’ 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Although Kalakuta hasn’t figured out all the details, and is in fact unable to... he keeps something in his heart.

—Hope!

’We will make it somehow... All of us!’

"ATTACK!"

BOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!

And so the battle begins.

The first ones to perish are the Martial Artists.

Although they are all incredibly skilled, and the powers of their Armaments are amplified by the Vermillion Trap Array, they still have mortal bodies and are unable to keep up with the sheer scale of the battle.

Compared to Kalakuta and his special forces, whose combat abilities are at the highest in the entire Freedom Fighters, the Martial Artists are simply too lacking.

It’s not a surprise to see that they all perished in droves, quickly exterminated in the battle.

"All the cannon fodders are gone and we’ve witnessed the enemy’s methods. It’s time to display our true abilities." The Sect Leaders proudly declare, all of them giving orders to the Cultivators under their respective Sects to display their hidden methods.

This creates a sudden spike in their level of threat and the intensity of their attacks.

It is at this point that the Freedom Fighters begin to lose members.

One life.

Two.

Five.

One by one, they begin to fall.

And although Kalakuta and his forces also take down their fair share of Cultivators, due to how outnumbered they are... It becomes an impossible match.

But Kalakuta doesn’t stop.

He keeps swinging.

He charges at the Sect Leaders, who cast all kinds of Spells, but are rendered ineffective due to his divine body.

Frustrated, they can only keep him restrained while retreating and defending.

Until—

WHAM!!!

Kalakuta finally lands a clean hit on one of the Sect Leaders. His head bursts like a watermelon, sending viscera everywhere.

This... is the first time one of the leaders has died since the battle began.

The sudden occurrence instantly changes the dreadful vibe among the Freedom Fighters and sends fear into the hearts of the Cultivators for the first time.

Most importantly... It fuels Kalakuta’s hope.

’One down, eleven more to go!’

Now armed with an unstoppable momentum, Kalakuta becomes fiercer with his assault.

His maddening grin is exposed for all to see.

BOOOOOM!!!

He sends a highly concentrated black crimson blast towards another Sect Leader after tearing down his defenses.

Yet another one falls...

... Dead.

’Ten more...!’

Although Kalakuta is tempted to look back at his brothers, he is too consumed with the fight.

The Sect Leaders are becoming more vicious.

He can’t afford to be distracted.

Any wrong move would cost him his life.

He rages like an animal.

He swings his club and drenches himself with sweat, tears, and blood.

More...

More death...

More death and chaos...

The corpses keep piling up around him.

Blood flows like an endless stream.

Until finally—

"Haa... haaa..." Kalakuta looks around and finds that there are no more enemies to fight.

But...

... There are no more allies, too.

All of his comrades are deceased, fallen thanks to the endless swarm of enemies that did not halt for even a moment—even in the face of death.

"You guys..."

His eyes rest on two people in particular.

Kamal and Garett.

The two earliest members of the Freedom Fighters.

His oldest comrades.

Kamal’s body is shattered in all kinds of ways, his skin now purple thanks to the poisonous effects of the Cultivator Techniques.

As for Garett... he remains standing.

Although pierced by spectral arrows from all sides and no longer breathing, his body refuses to fall.

Instead, it remains in pose.

As though still trying to disrupt the Vermillion Trap Array.

"... I’m sorry."

Kalakuta whispers these words with teary eyes. He can feel it deep within his heart... the sting of unimaginable grief.

Of bereavement.

’It’s all my fault.’

All the people who have perished here today.

They are all his fault.

Some of the people he killed were men, some were women. Some were young. Some were old.

But for the sake of survival, he killed them.

To save his friends, he slaughtered indiscriminately.

All for what?

In the end, he is the only one who survived.

He killed all those people for himself.

His life... over theirs.

’I-I never wanted this. I only—’

While still stuck in deep contemplation, the Crimson Trap Array around him begins to dissolve.

A path appears before Kalakuta.

He sees this and finds a brief glimmer in his eyes, even turning back to see his deceased friend.

’Oh? You did it in the end...’

He casts his gaze on the corpses of all the twelve, most of which are unrecognizable.

But he knows in his heart that it is them.

"You did it, everyone..." Stifling his tears, he forces a smile on his blood-soaked face. "You bought enough time for the path to form."

If only...

If only they could hang on for a little longer.

’We all could have walked out of here...’

... Together.

But Kalakuta knows it can’t happen.

It won’t.

So, he walks by his lonesome and leaves the array. The crimson skies vanish, and he finds himself in a deserted plain amidst the central region of the Eastern Sects.

Before him are the remaining people of the Eastern Sects—Cultivators and Martial Artists alike.

There are at least in the thousands.

He watches them, dazed.

His hands are tired and his body is sore.

He grows weary of battle.

But—

"Come at me..." He raises his club while staring at them all with a fierce gaze.

It is certain.

Kalakuta will not give up!

"W-we surrender..." The Cultivators and Martial Artists all bow to him, admitting their defeat.

"You defeated all our leaders. The last Sect Leader experienced backlash while operating the Vermillion Trap Array and also died. Most of us have used up our energies for the array and have even suffered injuries from the backlash. We know that Martial Artists won’t be able to male a dent on your divine form. In essence, we are defenseless against your might." They all declare.

"... I see."

Although Kalakuta still feels the pain of loss.

He feels enraged at these people.

Their actions.

They cost him the lives of his friends.

Was it even worth it?

Are they worth it?

Then, he remembers the words of the Knight.

"All the men here are willing to die for the cause. That is how important it is in our hearts. It is far bigger than a single person—man or woman."

Those were his brother’s words to him.

’Everyone that died today were true warriors who knew the risks. They chose this path. It would be an insult to their sacrifice if I turned back now.’

Kalakuta heaves a sigh and nods.

Then, he speaks.

"From now henceforth, the corrupt system of the Eastern Sects is abolished. No longer shall the elders scheme against each other and gain control over your lands. Cultivators and Martial Artists alike are all humans in the end. As such, the land of the east is yours. Be free. Roam the land. Enjoy the liberty paid for by the blood of my comrades. Thus saith Kalakuta... thus saith the Freedom Fighters!"

He raises his hands and clenches them into a powerful fist.

Immediately, there is a big shout.

A shout of triumph!

Of joy!

The land that once belonged to the few is now open to many.

All may partake of its abundance.

This... is true freedom!

As Kalakuta watches them rejoice, he stands alone amidst the pool of blood and viscera that still drip from his enormous frame.

He is motionless.

He smiles.

It is one of reflection.

’Although I didn’t want it to turn out this way, in the end, this land has become free too...’

In a sense, the goal has been achieved.

But Kalakuta feels lonely.

At this point, he can only think of one person.

—The Knight.

’I wish you were here with me, brother.’