80 Grok Vs Elton (1)
As the mist settled down, Elton's view became clear, revealing the figure below. The person wore ragged clothes that didn't seem to protect him from the mountain's chilly wind. In his right hand, he held a sword covered on a fiery aura while looking at him with disdain, those grey eyes filled with a challenging light. Elton's heart raced; his instincts were right. The mountain hid dangers.
*Whoosh*
All of a sudden, the sound of something cutting through the air caught Elton's attention. He quickly looked behind, only to see a barrage of arrows coming from above, targeting him and his soldiers. On the mountain slope above, he spotted a row of twelve bandits, reading their bows for another attack as eight armed bandits stood before them, creating a solid defensive line.
Among those eight close-range bandits, Grok stood a step ahead of the others, his seven-foot height making him stand out. He held his massive battleaxe with both hands, keeping his eyes fixed on Elton with a mixture of excitement and caution. He wanted to fight this man.
*Thud*
The arrows found their marks with utmost accuracy, piercing through the soldiers who were carrying their unconscious comrades. Most of them died, unable to react to the attack, while others tried to sidestep but were still hit by the arrows, causing them to drop to the ground while screaming.
Elton watched this scene with a mix of astonishment and helplessness in his eyes. He didn't care about the soldiers' deaths, but this loss was a stain to his name and honor. It was something that his peers would constantly mock him in the future, the noble captain who fell for a bandits' trap. Elton had to change this situation and seek for an alternative way down. However, just as he prepared himself to dash forwards, another barrage of arrows came down at them, each one carrying enough force to crack a rock in two.
"Dodge!" - Elton's cry echoed as he swiftly stepped in front of one of his soldiers. With lightning speed, he unsheathed a small blade and deflected an incoming arrow aimed at his subject. It was an agile movement that defied his seemingly bulky figure.
Yet, despite his speed, Elton wasn't able to save any more of his soldiers, as another two fell lifeless to the ground, their thin clothes unable to stop the arrows' onslaught. Those in the Second Stage reacted swiftly, fending off the attacks either by parrying the arrows mid-air or evading them with a simple leap.
As the final arrow thudded to the ground, Elton's eyes swiftly swept across his troops. Out of the sixty-two who had marched alongside him until the end, only forty-nine remained standing. He knew he had to do something. Remembering his shallow past experiences dealing with bandits that plagued Luak's territory and considering the present situation, he decided to give a basic and direct command. One that had worked wonder when dealing with bandits' archers. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
"CHARGE AT THEM!" - He bellowed with force, raising the small sword in his grip and dashing forwards.
The soldiers behind him exchanged uneasy glances, their faces etched with fear and unease. Even the strongest among them couldn't shake the sense of dread that gripped their hearts as they remembered the barrage of arrows that rained down upon them. Nevertheless, they found themselves with no alternative but to charge forward against the enemy if they hoped to survive.
The forty-nine soldiers swiftly propelled themselves up the mountain, ascending the steep slope towards the row of bandits, disregarding that accumulated fatigue spreading through their bodies. They rapidly burned their mana reserves, one that had been previously utilized to maintain their stamina and body temperature.
Luak's soldiers pushed themselves with all their might, using their weapons to help them maneuver through the steep slope while leaping over the scattered small boulders that obstructed their way. Their feet sank into the snow with every step, marking their determination.
The source of this is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
As the horde desperately charged towards them, Grok's eyes burned with the urge to fight as his barbarian's blood seemed to boil. He wanted to charge at them and swing his axe to his heart content, cleaving his enemies and bathing in their blood. However, despite that boiling will, Grok maintained his position, watching the enemies' closing on them.
Even though Elton could move much faster than his current pace, he refrained from distancing himself from his team. His intuition warned him that something dangerous could soon happen. Soon enough, another shower of arrows descended upon them. Yet, this time, only one arrow hit its mark, sending one of the soldiers rolling down the slope, not stopping until he fell to the abyss.
Noticing that this barrage of arrows had only taken one of his men, a satisfied smile spread across Elton's lips, revealing his yellow teeth and a noticeable gap where a canine tooth should have been. His plan was working, it was effective.
"Bandits, huh!"- Elton mused inwardly with that same satisfied grin.
Although he wasn't a good leader and knew little about warfare, Elton possessed considerable experience in dealing with bandits. Despite being a foolish tactic, a charging command proved effective against the bandits who struggled to hit moving targets. This approach could be considered quite useful in the North, where archers often lacked formal archery training.
As the enemies drew nearer and nearer, Grok flexed his hands around the axe, opening and closing his grip a few times, trying to get a feel of the weight as his blood pulsed with the growing desire for battle. Although he acknowledged his slim odds on a fight against his king, Grok held the belief that he could win against the pig-like man running towards him, the one who was holding a small toothpick in his hands.
Grok's gaze swept the surroundings, searching for his king who had explicitly instructed him not to engage in a fight with the man. There was no sign of the king, which meant that Grok bore the responsibility of confronting the captain and stop him from reaching the archers behind him. An eager smile blossomed on Grok's lips; excitement evident in his eyes as he tightly clenched the axe in his hands.
The enemies were roughly three hundred yards away -around 300 meters-, and Grok was on the verge of leading his soldiers in a downward charge. However, Zahra's voice suddenly pierced his ears, with a commanding tone.
"Ascend the mountain!" – There was some confidence in her voice as she commanded– "Barbarian! Fall back with us while maintaining the formation!"
Zahra swiftly fitted another arrow to her bow and released it, directing the attack at Elton, attempting to slow him down for a few seconds. It did take an effect as the fat man diminished his speed to defend against the quick arrow. After that, Zahra hurriedly took the quiver on the ground and began climbing to a higher ground. Grok looked at her with upset expression, but still followed behind her, leading the other seven.
The soldiers of Stahl climbed at a quicker pace when compared to those of Luak, a result of preparations that allowed them to conserve a lot more mana and stamina during the last few hours. Furthermore, they have been using these mountainous terrains for their hideouts, leading them to getting familiar with traversing it more effectively, consuming less energy.
"Halt!"- Zahra's command rang out as they reached a spot where a jutting portion of solid rock emerged from the ice, affording them a strategic view of the horizon and the approaching enemy. - "Ready yourselves!"
Upon Zahra's order, she and the archers promptly dropped to their knees, notching arrows and drawing them back with all their might until their hands quivered. She observed Elton gradually narrowing the gap between himself and Grok, who trailed behind the others, providing them with protective cover.
"Target their captain!" - Zahra's voice sliced through the air as she released the string, sending an arrow hurtling toward Elton. She had been instructed by the king to concentrate ton the other and not their captain, but she recognized the necessity of delaying him as long as she could, at least until her king arrived to face him off.
In an instant, a torrent of arrows clouded Elton's vision, each aimed at various points on his body. He had no other option but to abruptly stop and draw upon his Mana. At that moment, the small blade in his grip burst into flames. However, in the eyes of Stahl's soldiers, those flames paled in comparison to the blazing aura that emanated from their king's sword. It was as if one was a Phoenix and the other a simple and weak campfire.
"Ahhhh!" - Elton's powerful scream echoed as he vigorously spun the sword in his grasp, sending a significant part of his mana into his weapon and the Magic Circuits in his hands. He unleashed his full strength with a simple but powerful horizontal slash, one that sent small waves of heat everywhere. In a single strike, he managed to slice apart all arrows hurtling towards him.
"You damn bugs!" Elton's yell echoed through the mountain, furious by the audacity of these enemies that dared to sully his noble honor, trying to harm him with their measly strength. Despite his intuition shouting at him to stop and conserve his strength, the blazing anger in his chest was too overwhelming to be contained – "I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!"
This time, Elton abandoned all restraint. He inhaled deeply and kicked the ground, snow billowing everywhere behind him, causing some of his soldiers to slip some meters down the slope. Within mere moment, Elton's big figure was already before Grok. His small sword arced down in a forceful and swift slash. The barbarian could do nothing but desperate raise his great axe, trying to parry it. However, that blade was like a serpent and suddenly moved its trajectory, aiming for his head.
It was too fast to evade, even though he could see the sillhouete, Grok could do nothing but watch as it neared his forehead.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter