“Damn it! What the hell is this territory? I thought it was just a tiny village!”
Caught in the open farmland with no place to hide, the bandits at the front were struck down as a barrage of arrows rained down upon them.
Gosling quickly deflected an arrow aimed at him and used the corpse of a fallen comrade as a shield.
This was completely absurd. This was supposed to be a small village with a population of around 200. Yet, based on the strength of the arrows, it felt like there were about 50 archers on the enemy side.
Moreover, the arrows flying toward them were strange. They were extremely short compared to normal ones.
“Are the enemies fairies or something? Damn it!”
Frustrated by the bewildering situation, Gosling cursed.
“B-boss!”
“Oh, you’re still alive?”
When he turned to the voice, he saw his second-in-command using a nearby corpse as a shield as well.
“I don’t understand! What the hell is going on here?!”
“Idiot, how am I supposed to know?!”
“W-we’re going to be wiped out at this rate! We need to retreat—”
In the next moment.
With a loud whoosh, an arrow cut through the air, and his second-in-command’s upper body was torn apart along with the corpse he was using as a shield.
…
“Y-yeah! I hit it! Did you see that just now? What incredible power! It split him in two!”
“Calm down a bit, will you?”
Damian, who had started cheering in front of the gate, was scolded by Yuri.
The weapon Damian was using wasn’t handheld but a large crossbow fixed to the ground. Named after a certain heroic warrior, it was called a “Ballista.”
Its bolts were thick like stakes, requiring the strength of two large men to draw the string.
About a month ago, when there was still time to spare, Damian had created this prototype, and now it was seeing its first real combat and achieving remarkable results.
“By the way, you should have been with the women taking shelter, right? You can’t really fight anyway.”
“What are you saying?! On the historic day my weapon is used in actual battle for the first time, there’s no way I’m missing it!”
“…I see.”
Yuri replied with a sigh at Damian’s passionate words.
As they exchanged words, the townspeople stationed atop the wooden palisade continued to nock arrows and shoot.
“Incredible, incredible! My crossbow is taking out bandits one after another! You’re all doing great—keep it up!”
Hearing Damian’s excited cheers, several nearby archers smiled wryly but continued to loose arrows.
With the bandits hindered by the rain of arrows, Noein once again sent the golems charging into the fray, turning the battlefield into a scene of horror and chaos.
If they stayed still behind the corpses, they would be smashed to pieces by the golems, but if they abandoned their makeshift shields to move, they would be exposed to the rain of arrows.
Meanwhile, the golems moved about calmly amidst the arrow storm, wreaking havoc among the bandits.
None of the bandits had the leisure to set the golems ablaze, and the one-sided slaughter continued.
Eventually, the bandits, unable to withstand the onslaught, attempted to retreat. A man who seemed to be their leader shouted desperately, “Don’t fall back! Advance forward!”
But most of the bandits ignored the command and turned to flee.
“…It’s about time for Bart and the others to make their move,” Yuri muttered.
Almost simultaneously, Bart’s squad burst out of the forest, cutting off the bandits’ escape route.
Seeing this, Yuri called out to the men waiting at the gate with their swords, spears, and axes ready.
“Let’s finish this with a pincer attack! We’re going in too!”
““Yeah!””
・・・・・
「The enemy is escaping! Let’s go!」
In the forest, Bart, who had been hiding further outside the area around the road from which Noein and the thieves had emerged, charged out with about 15 of his fellow villagers and blocked the thieves’ retreat.
On the opposite side of the road, another group of around 15 villagers led by Rick and Dant burst forth, surrounding the thieves.
The thieves, completely demoralized by the rain of arrows and the golem, wore expressions of despair as they saw enemies closing in from behind.
“Drop your weapons! If you surrender, we won’t kill you! Drop your weapons and kneel!”
Not just Bart, but Rick, Dant, and the other villagers shouted in unison.
Upon hearing the words “we won’t kill you,” the thieves hurriedly discarded their weapons, knelt, and began pleading for their lives.
Bart kicked the solar plexus of the surrendering thieves, punched them in the face, and knocked them unconscious to ensure they wouldn’t resist.
The other villagers mimicked Bart, but being unaccustomed to battle, they hesitated to strike hard enough, merely causing bloody noses or, on the contrary, hitting with such force that it seemed they might have killed someone with a single blow.
While Bart and the others were incapacitating the thieves, the rain of arrows momentarily ceased, and with a battle cry, men surged out from the gates of the capital.
Leading the charge were Yuri, the carpenter Dmitri, and Noein’s slave Zadrek, along with about 20 of the strongest men from the Earl Kivileft territory.
With the added pressure of the charge on top of the golem rampaging, the remaining thieves who had continued to resist finally broke.
・・・・・
“O, boss! Help me! Ahhh!”
“Ahhh! It’s over! We’re doomed!”
Gozling, watching as his elite subordinates fell one by one, was certain of their defeat. They had completely and utterly lost to a tiny village.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”
It couldn’t end like this.
He wouldn’t die without at least striking back at the enemy that had mocked them.
Determined, Gozling fixed his gaze on the opponent he despised most—the puppet sorcerer.
In front of the gate, the sorcerer was still protected by two guards, a man and a woman. Gozling decided to use his ultimate technique—his body magic—at this critical moment.
Gozling’s body magic was imperfect. It could enhance his physical abilities for a few minutes, but once the effect wore off, the fatigue would hit him hard, leaving him nearly unable to move.
However, if he was going to die here anyway, it didn’t matter. All he wanted was to take down that sorcerer.
As Gozling focused, his head felt hot, and with explosive force, he kicked off the ground and sprinted toward the sorcerer.
He punched one enemy trying to block him, kicked away another, and drew closer to the sorcerer.
“Die!”
Just as he tried to stab with his sword while screaming—
He was suddenly kicked in the face by a woman who had appeared before him at an incredible speed.
Taking the blow directly to his face, he managed to brace himself and endure, relying on the enhanced physical abilities granted by the magic.
“Tch!”
The woman who blocked him was a rabbit person. The speed of a rabbit person far exceeded that of a normal human. In terms of speed, Gozling could match her, even with his body magic.
Meanwhile, the guards on either side—an ugly man and a sharp-eyed man—came at him with their weapons.
“Damn it!”
Gozling summoned all his magic, enhancing the effects of his body magic to an unprecedented level.
Pain like fire coursed through his brain, blood flowed from his nose, eyes, and ears, but he activated the magic to its limit regardless.
Swinging his sword at an impossible speed, he fought evenly against the three: the two men on either side and the woman in front.
“Let me kill her! Let me kill her! Please let me kill her!”
“—No.”
The rabbit woman coldly replied to Gozling, whose face was bloodied and contorted with fury, as she unleashed a roundhouse kick.
He dodged and took a step back to create some distance.
“Look up!”
Suddenly, a voice rang out, echoing directly in his mind. Following the voice’s command, he instinctively looked up, but there was nothing there.
“Damn it!”
Was it a trap?
As he turned to look behind him, Gozling’s vision spun.
The world flipped upside down, and when he looked down, he saw the sky, while up above, he saw his own decapitated body.
And in front of him stood a big man with a shaved head and a bearded face.
The large man, in a position where he had just swung his sword sideways, looked at Gozling with a surprised expression, as if he had encountered an old acquaintance.
(Did I know someone like this?)
The last thought to cross Gosling’s mind was surprisingly casual and trivial.
