Chương 195: B3 - Chapter 29: Weakened

In the end, the black-haired soldier on the left noticed something was wrong first. The burn scar on his cheek tightened as he squinted at his two companions, both swaying where they sat. He turned his blade sluggishly in his hands, already losing the battle against the drain of the poison. With an unsteady jolt, he forced himself upright. His gaze flicked across the campsite as he blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear the haze clouding his vision.

Seth slipped under the veil of Illusionary Emptiness and began sneaking toward the soldier.

'Be ready,' he told Colossus and Nightmare through Link. The scarred man extended a hand, seemingly trying to manifest a spell. Aether flickered around his arm, warping the air, but dropped when he winced. Then confusion twisted his features, and his head snapped toward the iron pot still hanging above the embers. The exact moment the realization dawned on him, Seth stepped out of invisibility and cast Dark Scythes. The shadowed blades surged along Seth's forearms, hissing toward the man.

The spell shredded through the man's weakened body and punched through his back before he could even lift a hand to defend himself. A wet, choking cry escaped his throat, snapping the other two watchmen from their stupor. They stared in horror at the blades jutting from their comrade's chest.

"What the—" one began, but the other cut him off with a panicked scream.

"Ambush!" Nightmare and Colossus emerged from Seth's necklace. The direwolf used Shadow Step, dissolving into darkness before reappearing directly behind the second watchman. The soldier lunged for the halberd resting against a nearby log, but he was far too slow. Gloom Fang's smoke curled and sizzled as Nightmare's jaws clamped onto the man's upper shoulder. Teeth met bone with a sickening crunch. A howl of agony tore through the quiet forest even as the third watchman swung his sword in a desperate, wild arc.

The blade whistled through the air, missing Nightmare's flank by mere inches while the direwolf shook his prey with savage force to use him as a human shield. Colossus charged into the center of the campsite the moment the other seven soldiers scrambled from their bedrolls. The scorpion moved with ruthlessness.

Deathcoil Venom dripped in translucent beads from the tip of his stingers while the three tails lashed out again and again to pierce shoulders, arms, and thighs to inject the weakening toxin into every target within reach. Seth dashed alongside the scorpion. He swept his arm in wide arcs, his shadow blades slicing through armors and tearing into the flesh of the disoriented soldiers.

His strikes met no shimmering barriers or hastily formed casts; Captain Michaelson's poison had already hollowed out the Wells of all the soldiers, leaving them weak and vulnerable. Only a desperate few managed to trigger the reserves of their Protecting Belts. The artifacts' blue light flickered weakly through the gloom of the campsite, yet when they tried to regroup, Colossus unleashed Chitinous Taunt. The compulsive screech tore across the clearing, forcing the attention of five soldiers at once.

Desert Aegis and Quartz Armor surged over the scorpion's frame, followed by the volatile hum of Explosive Bastion. Nightmare flowed through the panicked cluster with grace while blurring in and out of Illusionary Emptiness. Slipping past hopeless weapon swings, he reappeared to tear through throats and chests. The imperial soldiers had been reduced to their raw Toughness and the steel in their hands, and both were failing them.

In less than fifteen seconds, seven of the twelve soldiers lay sprawled across the mossy ground, blood trickling across the forest's floor. Seth cast Intermediate Identify on the five survivors around Colossus. Florencia Class: Warrior Rank: 50 (High-Iron) Subclass:??? Strength:??? Arcane Power:??? Toughness:??? Well Capacity:??? Agility:??? Regeneration:??? Banneth Class: Warrior Rank: 50 (High-Iron) Subclass:??? Strength:??? Arcane Power:??? Toughness:??? Well Capacity:??? Agility:??? Regeneration:???

Greck Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Class: Guardian Rank: 60 (Peak-Iron) Subclass:??? Strength:??? Arcane Power:??? Toughness:??? Well Capacity:??? Agility:??? Regeneration:??? Jasline Class: Rogue Rank: 52 (High-Iron) Subclass:??? Strength:??? Arcane Power:??? Toughness:??? Well Capacity:??? Agility:??? Regeneration:??? Dorrin Class: Warrior Rank: 60 (Peak-Iron) Subclass:??? Strength:??? Arcane Power:??? Toughness:??? Well Capacity:???

Agility:??? Regeneration:??? The five soldiers finally broke free from Chitinious Taunt a second later and charged toward Seth and Nightmare, completely ignoring the armored beast in their midst. And this was a fatal mistake. Explosive Bastion began to tremble, and the shell of aether surrounding Colossus brightened into a blinding white. The giant scorpion scuttled closer to the clustered soldiers right before the spell detonated. The blast hit with the force of a falling mountain.

Bodies were hurled through the air and slammed into the thick trunks of nearby oaks while the explosion uprooted saplings and scattered heavy stones like pebbles. The dazed Guardians, Rogues, and Warriors tried to push themselves up among the wreckage, yet none of them managed it before getting attacked once again—Seth and Nightmare were already upon them. Gloom Fang ate through the soldiers' bodies as the shadows of Dusk Scythes dissolved from Seth's arms, replaced by Armored Phantom Fists.

The massive gauntlets of teal aether crushed bones, mangled limbs, or smashed livers and spleens with each brutal punch. Seth killed two of the foes in a single brutal sequence, while Nightmare ripped the throat from a third. Only two survivors remained, the Rank-52 Rogue and the Guardian. Stripped of the barriers of their Protecting Belt and reeling from the nausea of their leaking Wells, they clutched their weapons with trembling hands.

"You have no h-honor!" the left one with a shield and spear shouted, voice cracking as he backed away from Seth.

"To poison us like that before striking in our sleep!" Seth didn't respond and charged. With his left gauntlet, he deflected the Guardian's lunging spear, then drove his other fist into the center of the heavy shield. The impact forced the piece of metal aside, leaving the man's chest wide open. Seth followed through with another sternum-crushing punch that sent the soldier hurling backward to slam into a large rock.

While Nightmare and Colossus took care of the Rogue in a synchronized attack, Seth stood over the injured Guardian.

"Honor, huh? How ironic," Seth said, his voice as cold as the night air.

"The moment your nation decided to use Distortion Rods to make sure to kill every single one of Kastal's soldiers, your fate was sealed." The man groaned, face contorted in agony as he tried to raise his spear despite his obvious injuries.

"Your leaders decided there would be no mercy," Seth continued.

"I'm just returning the favor. You have no one to blame but them." Seth reached down, pushing the spear aside with his forearm, then delivered a final blow that left the clearing in sudden, heavy silence. Throughout the following day, Seth maintained relentless pressure, harassing and intimidating every contingent of the Bridan Empire that tried to push through the forest. He never stayed in one place for long.

A sudden Ravenous Arrow from the trees, the distant howl of Nightmare, the glimpse of movement between trunks—each hint of his presence was enough to slow their march and keep fear gnawing at their nerves. His persistence yielded a second successful trap. Using another vial of poison, he crippled a dozen soldiers before launching a brutal ambush from the shadows. Seth finished the last soldier with a horizontal sweep, his Dark Scythes cutting through the man's neck in a spray of blood.

Without wasting a second, he recalled Nightmare and Colossus into the teardrop necklace and began moving through the corpses to loot them. He tore the Endless Pouches from their waists and tied them in a heavy cluster he could carry in one hand. Reinforcements would converge on the location within minutes; he had no time to strip the Protecting Belts or pry loose individual armor pieces.

Just as he had done with the group from the previous night, he planned to bring the pouches back to Henry so the squad could sort through the spoils within the safety of the stronghold. Seth left the blood-soaked campsite behind and melted into the undergrowth, already pulling out his communication orb. Seth: I took down another group. I'll bring their pouches back in about thirty minutes. The squad leader's reply came almost instantly, as if he had been waiting with the orb in hand. Henry: Great. Excellent work.

Henry: Just don't take too many risks. Everything is set up here. We're ready for them. Seth grimaced at the second message as he caught a glimpse of the sun sinking through the leafy canopy; the fading light hanging beside the silent Spirit still hovered in the sky. Henry and the others might have prepared the stronghold as best they could, yet Seth still doubted it would be enough.

Thanks to the relentless hit-and-run tactics, what had begun as a two-hundred-versus-two-hundred battle had been cut down to roughly two hundred against one hundred fifty five. Yet the numbers were deceptive. The average Rank of Seth's own squad sat around the mid-30s, while the three other fifty-man squads that had joined them were mostly in the low 40s. By contrast, the imperial soldiers he had killed so far had consistently been in the 50s.

To secure a decisive victory, he needed to thin their ranks further, perhaps down to one hundred ten, maybe one hundred twenty at most. They're not going to keep making these mistakes though, Seth thought as his boots ghosted over the grass of the small clearing he was crossing. They'll stop moving in small detachments and— His core exploded in his chest. It sent a violent warning through his nervous system, and Seth's eyes widened. Before he could turn, something lunged at him from the blind side.

Driven by pure, enhanced instinct, Seth twisted his body sideways. A jagged chill kissed the skin of his neck, followed by the sharp sting of steel slicing through flesh. He didn't wait to see the blade. Pivoting on his heel, he funneled aether into his lead leg and unleashed a vicious kick. His foot struck something solid—ribs, perhaps—and sent the attacker hurtling backward into a thicket of ferns across the clearing. Seth completed the turn and dropped into a combat crouch, one hand flying to his throat.

Hot blood slowly oozed between his fingers from the cut. Not deep enough to be fatal. His eyes snapped to the figure ahead. The man stood in a low, predatory stance, wrapped in a hooded cloak of mottled brown that blended almost perfectly with the forest floor. Only the lower half of his face remained visible, lined with scars Seth recognized immediately. Even so, he activated Intermediate Identify to confirm what he already knew.??? Class:??? Rank:??? (???) Subclass:??? Strength:??? Arcane Power:??? Toughness:???

Well Capacity:??? Agility:??? Regeneration:??? Seth quickly checked his Well. It was only half-full, and the earlier ambush at the campsite had already forced him to draw on the reserves within his Fine Storing Ring. Morsh hadn't found him by chance. He had waited for the exact moment Seth would be most vulnerable. The assassin shifted his weight, the twin daggers in his hands humming with a faint, violet-tinted aura.

The air around him seemed to warp, the forest growing silent as if the very trees were holding their breath. Morsh lunged forward.