The moment their weapons clashed, Boris knew he had lost. The immense force transmitted through the axe handle numbed his entire body.
The Beastlord took half a step back under the powerful impact.
The mercenary leader stumbled back four or five steps, barely managing to stay upright by leaning on his axe. The force had split the skin of his palm, and blood stained his golden beard with streaks of crimson.
“Ugh…” Boris swallowed the blood rising in his throat, forcing himself to stand. He was ready to fight again, but his worried mercenaries quickly surrounded their leader.
“Humans… cowardly… kill them all!” The Beastlord pointed at the mercenary leader, who was now protected by his men. Boris’s face was unnaturally flushed, but he gestured for his men to step aside, insisting he could still fight.
The mercenary leader lowered his right shoulder, tilting his great axe as he gathered all his strength into his arms. He charged at the Beastlord once more.
“Whirlwind Strike!”
The core skill of a berserker. Boris spun rapidly, clashing with the Beastlord again. Faced with such a powerful technique, the Beastlord had no choice but to retreat, blocking the attacks as it went.
On the surface, it seemed like Boris had the upper hand, but in reality, he was growing increasingly desperate. The Whirlwind Strike drained his stamina rapidly, and he couldn’t sustain it for long.
Meanwhile, the mercenaries were suffering heavy losses. Their formation was crumbling, and those who were caught in the beastmen’s ranks were quickly dismembered and devoured. The scent of blood only fueled the beastmen’s savagery. Several Gors broke through the mercenaries’ lines and charged toward the sorceress.
The sorceress’s face was pale. She turned to the mercenaries protecting her and said, “Cover me.”
“Lady Trovik, you…” Among the guards was a handsome young mercenary named Banda. He wore finely crafted leather armor and wielded a greatsword. His gaze was filled with concern as he looked at the sorceress.
“…I need to cast a sixth-circle spell, Blizzard. It requires a long preparation time!” The sorceress’s voice was icy. She hadn’t intended to explain further, but she quickly realized the mercenaries’ morale was on the verge of collapse and added, “They won’t be able to hold out for the five minutes I need to cast it. Do you think they can last that long, Theresa?” A young voice rang out from behind them, startling everyone. When had someone snuck up on them?
“Mr. Leon!” The imperial merchant exclaimed in relief. The newcomer wore full chainmail, wielding a golden warhammer in one hand and a longsword on his back. His black hair was dusted with snow, and his blue eyes seemed to carry a hint of amusement.
Seeing the knight’s arrival, the sorceress let out a deep sigh of relief. “You’re finally here. Cover me, and I’ll finish them off!”
“Just you?” Leon raised his right hand, and only then did everyone notice he was holding the head of a Gor. “Beastmen are cunning. Don’t you think they’ll flank you? The only way out is to kill the Beastlord.”
Indeed, after collecting the old hunter’s belongings, Leon had sensed the presence of a Herdstone. He had rushed over, killing a Gor that had tried to ambush him along the way.
There was no time for lengthy explanations. The battlefield was in chaos. The mercenaries had already lost over a third of their numbers, and the ground was littered with limbs and corpses. The beastmen had also suffered heavy losses—most of the Ungors were dead, and several Gors had fallen—but they still outnumbered the mercenaries, and reinforcements were pouring in.
In winter, food was scarce for both humans and beastmen.
“I’m going in. Give me some magic!” Leon hefted his warhammer, giving the sorceress a reassuring look. She nodded reluctantly. “Understood.”
A Frost Armor spell enveloped Leon. After casting several spells in quick succession, the sorceress’s face paled. In just over ten minutes, she had cast four spells. Taking a deep breath, she began chanting the sixth-circle spell, Blizzard.
On the battlefield, Boris was at his limit. His stamina was drained, and the Whirlwind Strike’s momentum slowed. The cunning Beastlord immediately noticed the human’s weakness and switched from defense to offense. Boris was forced to retreat, blocking the Beastlord’s axe strikes. The sheer force of the blows sent him flying, landing in the snow, unable to get up.
Leon noticed the mercenary leader’s defeat. He had been preparing for this moment. Pale blue energy gathered in his hands as he ran his left hand over the warhammer. The golden iron head of the hammer began to glow like a red-hot branding iron, emitting scorching heat. Snowflakes that landed on it instantly vaporized.
This was Leon’s unique ability. The knowledge imparted by the mysterious man included the use of human brain psionics, allowing Leon to cast spells without relying on the Weave. Though he lacked the talent for traditional spellcasting, he could imbue his weapons with elemental damage for a limited time.
The Beastlord quickly noticed Leon. It roared, “Human! Destroy! Kill!”
“Today, it’s you beasts who will die!” Leon charged out from behind a snowdrift, leaping high and bringing his warhammer down on an Ungor’s head.
“Thud!” The Ungor’s head exploded, spraying blood and brain matter everywhere. Leon followed up with a sweeping strike, sending another Ungor flying. The creature’s shield and chest caved in, its body shattered. It was dead before it hit the ground.
Two more Ungors charged at Leon, their foul breath reaching his nostrils. They thrust their crude spears at his shoulders, but Leon didn’t even flinch. He swung his warhammer at one of them.
“Sizzle~” The red-hot hammerhead crushed the Ungor’s skull, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. The creature’s head was reduced to a bloody pulp, and its spear fell to the ground.
Leon sidestepped the other spear thrust, grabbed the spearhead, and snapped it off. He drove the broken spear into the Ungor’s skull, then kicked the corpse aside.
In one exchange, four Ungors had fallen to Leon.
“So strong… He’s really that strong. Is this Mr. Leon?” The imperial merchant’s face was a mix of awe and excitement. The mercenaries guarding the sorceress nodded in agreement, though the handsome young mercenary with the greatsword muttered, “What’s so great about that?”
“Roar!” The Gors noticed Leon’s threat and abandoned their current targets, charging at him instead. Leon was unfazed. He gripped his warhammer with both hands, dodging a Gor’s swing and leaping onto its axe. With a single strike, he crushed the Gor’s skull, then used its headless body as a shield to block other Gors’ attacks, taking down another Gor in the process.
The knight plunged into the beastmen’s ranks like a tiger among sheep. In just three minutes, five Gors and over a dozen Ungors had fallen to his hands.
“Thunder Strike!” Leon raised his warhammer and slammed it into the ground. A shockwave swept through the beastmen, disorienting and frightening them. Seizing the opportunity, Leon extended his right hand. The warhammer shifted to his left hand as a blade of pure white psionic energy extended from his wrist, glowing softly in the air.
Leon spun in place, the psionic blade slicing through the air.
The beastmen surrounding him froze.
Well, not entirely.
Their bodies seemed to shift.
Along a perfect straight line.
Every beastman near Leon was cut in half at the waist. The agonized screams and struggles of the beastmen filled the battlefield. Leon’s chainmail was soaked in their blood, but the stench didn’t deter him. He charged at the remaining beastmen, unleashing a massacre.
The tide of the battle had turned. The beastmen’s morale plummeted, and even the mighty Gors began to retreat. The power Leon displayed struck fear into their hearts.
“Roar!!!” The Beastlord immediately realized the situation was dire. It abandoned Boris, who was writhing in pain on the ground, and charged at Leon. “Human… knight… die!”
“It’s you who will die!” Leon tightened his grip on his sword, pointing it at the Beastlord. At the same time, he thought to himself that the timing was just about right.
“Everyone, fall back! The spell is coming!” The fallen mercenary leader shouted.
“Blizzard!” Just as Leon had predicted, the sorceress completed her sixth-circle spell—Blizzard.
Hundreds of icicles formed in the sky, sharp and crystalline. Under the sorceress’s control, they rained down on the beastmen. The power of a sixth-circle spell was incomparable to the second-circle Ice Bolt. The barrage of icicles pierced through most of the beastmen, eliciting agonized howls. Their blood froze under the spell’s power, and some Ungors and Chaos warhounds were decapitated or dismembered.
“Ugh!” The Beastlord knelt on one knee, struggling to withstand the Blizzard’s assault. Its arms and legs were covered in bloody gashes, and it was forced back, leaving a trail in the snow.
After about a minute, the spell’s power finally subsided. The beastmen who hadn’t managed to escape were almost all dead, and the Beastlord was encased in ice.
After casting the sixth-circle spell, the sorceress’s face turned ashen. She swayed, nearly collapsing.
“Lady Trovik!” The young mercenary beside her instinctively reached out to steady her, but the sorceress pushed him away with her staff. “Don’t touch me, Banda! I’m not that fragile!”
“Uh… right.” Banda awkwardly withdrew his hand.
The sorceress leaned on her staff, barely standing. She looked up. The battlefield was shrouded in the aftermath of the Blizzard, the fog and smoke making it hard to see. But the mercenaries knew that Trovik couldn’t cast another spell of that magnitude.
Of the original forty or fifty mercenaries, fewer than thirty remained. Those who hadn’t been protecting Trovik were all wounded. They watched the fog-covered battlefield with bated breath.
“It’s over! Mr. Leon is still in there!” Oliver covered his face in despair.
But the worst was yet to come.
“Ahhhh! Humans… I’ll kill… all of you!” The sound of ice cracking came from the battlefield. As the smoke cleared, the battered Beastlord broke free from the ice encasing its upper body. It was covered in wounds, most of them frozen, and its lower body was still trapped in ice. Several icicles were embedded in its body, but none of this was enough to kill it. With its legs still frozen, it raised its axe and called for more beastmen to join the fight.
From the depths of the forest, more beastmen emerged.
“Kill… humans!” The Beastlord struggled fiercely, cracks forming in the ice around its legs.
We’re doomed!
“Lady Trovik, what do we do?” a mercenary asked.
“He’s still here,” the sorceress said calmly, her eyes showing no panic. The mercenaries were stunned.
He?
“Ahhh!!!” From behind the Beastlord, Leon’s roar echoed. The knight leapt high, his heavy boots crushing the head of a frozen Ungor. He used the corpse as a springboard, launching himself at the Beastlord.
The Beastlord reacted quickly, turning to block, but its frozen legs slowed its movements. Before it could raise its axe, Leon’s warhammer struck its chest. The red-hot hammerhead shattered the Beastlord’s ribs, searing its flesh black.
“Ahhh!!! Human!!!” Even with such a grievous injury, the Beastlord wasn’t dead. Its right hand grabbed the axe and swung at Leon, the massive weapon cutting through the air.
Leon was faster. He released the warhammer, and the white psionic blade reappeared, slicing through the Beastlord’s right arm at the elbow. The forearm, still clutching the axe, fell to the ground. The Beastlord howled in agony, clutching the stump as blood gushed out.
Even then, it wasn’t dead. It struggled to free its legs from the ice, reaching for its axe with its left hand.
“Tch.” Leon spat. He stepped on the Beastlord’s chest, grabbed one of its horns, and with a flash of white light…
The Beastlord’s head, still dripping blood, was held aloft by the knight as he addressed the remaining beastmen. “Who’s next?!”
“Run! Run! Human… strong!” With their leader dead, the beastmen scattered in panic. They fled into the forest, even turning on each other in their desperation to escape.
“We won! We won!” Oliver hugged his guard, Franz, in celebration. The mercenaries reveled in their survival.
The forest echoed with cheers.
The sorceress finally relaxed, only to find Leon standing behind her, covered in blood.
“Long time no see, Theresa.”
“It has been a while, Leon.”