Chapter 46
{ Danger!! }
“Spread out”
The moment they reached the three defensive barriers, Chris gave the order, and the soldiers spread out.
Chris’s expression told the soldiers clearly: whoever dared to whisper would be killed.
But to be honest, even they were worried about Ian… and more importantly, he was alone.
Porto and the Tiger were not enough—at least he should have taken Yassin or Asia, not someone else at the First Level and a tiger that hadn’t yet reached the Second Level.
That was why the soldiers intended to give 110% of their strength, finish as quickly as possible, and then head toward their lord.
The barrier the workers had built was a long wooden wall stretching over twenty meters, enough to shelter more than a hundred people.
Chris.
Asia.
And the third would be Tory’s.
It was supposed to be under Ian’s command—but unfortunately, it wasn’t.
Chris divided the forces, then ordered, “Zero… I want detailed information on the lord’s movements and the current danger level.”
“The lord has disappeared from my range,” Zero appeared and said.
“What did you say?!” Chris shouted.
Zero shook her head. “Those are the lord’s orders, General.”
Chris’s expression hardened. “What about the Orcs?”
“They’ve left the range of their village,” she said.
“Continue your work. I want real-time updates on anything new,” Chris ordered.
“As you command,” Zero bowed and stepped back. Then she blended into the shadows and vanished.
This was a special skill created by Aliano.
Some time ago, Aliano had begun crafting unique skills for the village to serve as their exclusive signature. This was one of them—Chameleon War.
It didn’t just allow them to merge with shadows, but also with the environment once mastery was raised, making it something remarkable and a powerful tool for assassins… all thanks to the mutation Aliano gained after creating the Weakness Aspects.
The army split into three legions… each heading in a different direction.
From the front, the Imps began to appear.
Green bodies no taller than fifty centimeters, blood-red eyes, five fingers on hands and feet, short swords and axes, murderous intent, and overwhelming numbers—these were the Imps!!!
The moment they appeared and smelled human flesh, they charged.
“Archers!” Tory shouted.
Whoosh—
More than thirty archers released their arrows in a single instant.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Arrows flooded the scene, killing some of the Imps —but not all. The archers’ accuracy and power were not at that level, especially since Imps skin was slick and tough.
“Another volley,” Tory ordered.
There were more than a hundred Imps before him, while he had only seventy men.
In direct combat, he would win due to the difference in strength—but he would lose at least half his forces. That was why he had to buy as much time as possible for the archers to thin them out. Yet the first volley killed only three Imps, severely wounded five, and inflicted superficial injuries on twelve.
The bigger problem was the Imps’ speed.
They ran on both hands and feet at terrifying speed, caring nothing for their fallen comrades. They climbed over one another to reach the front.
In a single rush, they covered half the distance.
Whoosh—
The second volley flew, taking down two this time.
Tory frowned, but he kept his calm.
“Third volley.”
The Imps closed in on the wall, and at that moment the arrows appeared—accompanied by a strange flick of Tory’s hand.
“War Rush.”
A group of cavalry suddenly appeared behind the Imps, their spears aimed at their hearts from the rear.
Arrows from the front, spears from behind—the result was the Imps’ screams.
Aaaaaaaaaaah—
A group in the middle halted, then charged toward the cavalry.
“Fall back,” the woman at the front gave the order, and the cavalry retreated.
A unit of Imps immediately followed them.
The Imps legion was suddenly reduced by half.
“Bombard them!” Tory shouted as he leapt down into the battlefield with his sword.
“Sword Flash.”
His blade cut down three Imps in an instant.
The archers released another volley, while a group of warriors descended with him.
The warriors were only at the First Level.
The Imps were formidable—but none of them were at the First Level.
As for the rest of the warriors, they stayed atop the walls to defend the archers.
Some Imps climbed the walls, but the warriors met them head-on and killed them.
Meanwhile, the remaining Imps that chased the cavalry were led elsewhere.
To Yassin—Who was waiting at full readiness..
“Message of Sorrow.”
Half of the Imps froze in place for a moment—but not all.
Different races possessed different traits, and they were naturally resistant to certain skills.
But Yassin didn’t stop there.
“Magic Missile.”
Magical runes appeared before him, and he began firing.
The cavalry circled around and came at the Imps from behind, tearing them apart with their spears.
“Hurry back to the wall!” shouted the knight-commander as she returned to Tory, only to find that he had nearly finished the battle.
This was the weakest defensive line of the three, yet it was done. That meant the others had likely finished as well.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
On Ian’s side.
Rooooooar—
In front of the Orc village.
The White Tiger appeared and roared, drawing their attention.
“Filthy beast… looking for your death?” one of the Orcs shouted.
The entire army had not left the village. They had left some Orcs behind to defend it—around ten, all at the First Level.
But even so, they were still far from enough before the White Tiger.
One Orc moved toward it, while the others stood still, ignoring the scene, unaware of the danger lurking around them.
The Orc reached the White Tiger and swung his great sword at it.
He thought he was facing an ordinary beast—but—The White Tiger suddenly leapt at him with speed the Orc did not expect and sank its fangs into his shoulder.
“Aaaaaaaaaah!”
The Orc screamed, drawing the attention of the others.
“Idiot.”
“Hurry.”
“It must be a Beast King.”
“It doesn’t have a king’s aura.”
“Just kill it.”
The remaining Orcs charged toward the Tiger.
Rooooooar—
The Tiger tore off a large chunk of flesh and roared at the newcomers.
“Skill!!” one of the Orcs shouted. “Quick—protect yourselves!”
The Tiger’s skill was powerful enough to push them back, making blood burst from their ears and seep from their skin.
But Orcs were strong, and their combat arts were strong as well.
They quickly charged the Tiger, their eyes red with rage.
Whoosh—
An arrow suddenly shot out from a nearby position.
One Orc abruptly stopped, reached out, and caught the arrow in his hand.
“Come out.”
This Orc was, unfortunately for Ian—terribly unfortunate—at the Second Level.
Ian and Porto emerged from the shadows, appearing before the group.
The Orcs froze in place, while the Tiger finished off the first Orc and retreated.
“So it’s you, the human Lord,” said the Second Level Orc as he cracked his neck. “Tsk… trying to delay your extinction? You’re dreaming. Come—come and die.”
“Are you sure?” Ian smiled, as if his plan had succeeded.
The Orc saw Ian’s smile and felt danger—but it was already too late.
He felt something, glanced at his hand, and froze in shock. “Poison!!!.”
“And not just any poison,” Ian smiled. “A poison specifically made to slaughter those at the Second Level. Retreat—we’re done here.”
Second Level enemies were a major nuisance to Ian. That was why, when the army trained for the second time in the World of Death, he searched for a way to kill them—and that way was poison.
A poison strong enough to kill Second Level beings.
Suddenly, the Second Level Orc’s legs trembled, his vision blurred, and he nearly collapsed—but a moment later, he fell to the ground completely.
He was dead.
