The ground fractured and caved in under the weight of Glenn's impact and the horizontal sweep of his greatsword.
The tightly packed sub-werewolves were instantly scattered by the shockwave, with those near the center being sent tumbling across the dirt. Compared to their aggressive stance just moments ago, they were now a pathetic sight.
"Hahaha! Garlan, you still think I was bragging?!"
Glenn adjusted his grip as he landed, twisting his torso to deliver a clean horizontal cleave that bisected a monster at the waist. His blade spun with his body, forming a fierce metallic tornado that shredded any creature attempting to close in on him. Their seemingly sturdy armor was sliced open like tofu beneath the edge of the Black Sword.
Having cleared a significant radius around him, he paused his assault, his sharp eyes scanning the trees for the new waves of wolf-headed soldiers emerging. One wave after another—just how many of them were there?
His keen ears picked up a massive amount of rustling deep in the forest. Their numbers were overwhelming; standing his ground for a head-on confrontation here was no longer a rational choice.
Whoosh!
A massive wave of flame erupted from a staff, engulfing a group of monsters attempting to flank Theresia and the others from behind. The wolf-headed creatures let out shrill, agonizing shrieks as they were scorched by the heat, eventually dissolving into mana particles.
"There are too many of them. I'm worried I won't have enough mana left for the village," Theresia said, her expression troubled. Both the full-coverage barrier and large-scale offensive spells were massive drains. If she exhausted herself here, she would become a liability once they reached the actual objective.
Reno also looked concerned. His holy spears flew out rhythmically, picking off stragglers. "Without your magic, I can't handle this many on my own..." A Priest, after all, was a support role; his offensive capabilities paled in comparison to the others.
After several exchanges, they realized these monsters possessed some intelligence, but not much. They didn't have terrifying physical stats or special traits. The only real problem was their quantity—there were enough that Glenn could kill several with a single swing and still see more filling the gaps.
"Do these things breed like rabbits?! Damn it, it's never-ending!"
The wolf-headed monsters snarled, their eyes filled with malice as they slammed their bodies forward and swung their weapons. In the shadows of the trees, archers drew their bows tight, aiming at Glenn's massive frame, waiting for a single opening to deliver a lethal shot.
Glenn flicked his body to avoid a cold arrow, then snatched up a broken shortsword from the ground and hurled it back. It embedded itself deeply in the archer's skull. He continued to hack through the surging crowd, limbs and torsos flying through the air before hitting the ground. From a distance, he looked like an immovable fortress.
However, the prolonged exertion was starting to show. Glenn was forty, after all; time was a relentless foe. It was exactly this kind of exhaustion after a major battle that had allowed the demon to poison him in the past.
Slash!
A swing released an invisible blade of pressurized air, wiping out a fresh cluster of enemies. Glenn assessed the situation. As the party leader, he couldn't stay locked in this stalemate. He had to make a move.
"We can't waste more time here. Let's move!"
He turned and ran back toward Garlan's group. Hearing the command, the party tightened their formation. After Theresia unleashed one final high-output blast to push back the nearest line, they bolted toward Windmill Village.
As a plume of dust rose from the explosion, Garlan swung his shortsword, finishing off a monster that had gotten too close. He hadn't contributed much yet, staying by the mages to act as a bodyguard. To handle whatever was waiting at the village, he intended to conserve his strength.
Before leaving, he tossed several vials into the smoke—volatile mixtures designed to strip creatures of their sense of smell and a refined sleep potion. With these chemical "parting gifts," the monsters would be too disoriented to track them once they broke line of sight.
Outside Windmill Village
The group crouched in the brush, catching their breath and observing the village. The houses were ruins, and dried blood stained the ground. It was a scene of devastation.
In the streets, a few large, hound-like monsters prowled. They wandered near the destroyed homes, sniffing the ground as if searching for something specific.
"How strange," Theresia whispered, gripping her staff. "The mana readings here are faint. Aside from the ones we see, there are only a few more inside the houses... but how could these few monsters destroy a village protected by mercenaries? Did the main force already leave?"
Garlan scanned the area. In his perception, he truly couldn't find any other significant biological signatures. Had they really moved on? And where was the other party? Where were Xis and his crew?
He frowned. The massive number of wolf-men on the road was unnatural. Highways were usually built far from monster habitats; it felt as if someone had relocated an entire nest.
"Where are Xis and those other jerks? They arrived first, but I don't see them," Glenn noted. There were no signs of battle near the entrance, yet this was the only way in. "Big talkers... I bet they're hiding somewhere, waiting for us to do the work!"
"Regardless," Garlan said, "we need to clear the monsters in the village first. I haven't done much yet; leave these stragglers to me."
"Are you sure?" Theresia asked, worried.
"Don't worry. I'm a pharmacist, but I'm a bit of a warrior too. Plus, I have you guys covering my back." He gave her a reassuring smile and slipped out of the brush.
The sun was halfway below the horizon. Soon, it would be dusk—a dangerous time in this world when nocturnal predators emerged. Garlan stayed low, creeping toward the village entrance.
Nearby, a hound-like monster was sniffing a corner with its back turned to him. Garlan drew his magic shortsword. Ensuring no other eyes were on him, he lunged.
The beast sensed something and began to turn, but the blade was already buried deep in its throat. Its jaws snapped open, revealing jagged fangs, but it couldn't make a sound. The assassin's technique was seasoned; he only accelerated to maximum speed once he entered the kill zone, striking with silent, lethal precision.
The other two monsters in the street continued their aimless patrol, completely unaware that their pack mate had been silenced.
___
There's a few advance chapters on my P@treon
Usually upload 2 Chapters a day in there, except Saturday and Sunday
43 Chapters Ahead, and will continue to increase
[email protected]/Sp1ced
If you're new to this stuff just replace "@" with "a" for the right link ^^