Chapter 114: Abandonment

  The ground trembled more and more violently. Even the dullest Ogre, Vyr, perceived it. He quickly dropped the pouch of raw ore he was carrying, gripped his tattered fine steel shield, and warily looked towards the valley.

  This fine steel round shield was the finest piece of equipment specially crafted for this Sanderfirth Mountains expedition, and the only thing still capable of completely blocking a Behemoth's claws. The shield was one and a half meters in diameter, its curved body thickest at seven inches. Although designed by dwarf craftsmen to minimize weight while ensuring quality, it still weighed nearly a thousand jin, requiring an Ogre to wield it with both hands. The hardness and strength of the specially treated fine steel from Oufu's forges could be used to make excellent weapons. The shield's perfectly curved surface could deflect a significant portion of impact force, and embedded in the grip behind the shield was a priceless magical gem to enhance its durability and toughness. In some respects, this was no longer just a shield, but a scaled-down, refined section of city wall.

  But now, this piece of armor, absolutely unparalleled on the continent in both weight and defensive capability, looked twisted and deformed. Without careful inspection, one might mistake it for a pile of scrap steel. During this time, the shield had to withstand the Behemoth's claws daily. Every contact and collision caused the shield's surface to dent and deform. It was only due to the shield's extraordinary toughness and strength that it had endured until now.

  The wind grew weaker. The tremor resonating in the air slowly became louder and clearer. Although Behemoths possessed massive bodies, their running speed was by no means inferior to any creature on the continent. Their reaction time and agility could even be compared to a werewolf's. This was also why Ethan never dared to dream of escaping simply by fleeing.

  The lizardman, Vest, also put down his ore pouch, took out his fine steel crossbow, and loaded the last venomous magic crossbow bolt. He leaped onto a protruding rock on the nearby cliff face.

  The poison on this magic crossbow bolt was personally refined by Sedros. Just the poison on this single bolt could kill a hundred horses. But even such a potent venom had limited effect against a Behemoth giant, a creature whose physique was arguably the strongest monster on the continent. And the weakness magic carefully imbued upon it had also proven futile during this time. All creatures living in the valley, due to the pervasive magical fluctuations in the environment, were nearly immune to most curse-type magic, except perhaps White Magic that drove and affected life force itself.

  Arkin and Luken's ears stood straight up, continuing to capture the muffled, thunderous footsteps in the air. The muscles on their hands gripping their flails bulged. Excessive tension made them bare their teeth in low growls, revealing sharp fangs.

  Luken shouted to Ethan in as calm and restrained a voice as possible: "Northeast by north, three thousand meters. It will emerge from behind that cliff in about half a minute."

  Ethan nodded, holding his blade in his right hand and the Paralysis Spell scroll in his left. He said to the two werewolves: "Drop your weapons. Drop your armor too. Absolutely do not attack later. Just focus on dodging."

  The two werewolves froze. Any werewolf, no matter how overwhelming the odds, would never retreat from battle.Let alone they were recognized as the strongest warriors in their tribe. Such words were the greatest insult to them.

  "Drop your weapons, take off your armor. Quickly," Ethan repeated flatly.

  Luken was the first to drop his weapons, then silently removed his leather armor. Arkin stared blankly for a moment, then let out a long sigh in his peculiar accent before also discarding his weapons and armor.

  When dealing with gray marsupials and giant eagles, the werewolves' comprehensive combat power could be fully displayed. But Behemoths were an entirely different matter. Even against an ordinary Behemoth, their weapons, which were nightmares for normal humans, couldn't inflict significant damage.And this was an even larger giant beast with thicker fur and muscle. Rather than going up to scratch its itch, it was wiser to dodge. Under a Behemoth's claws, even an Ogre's heavy armor would shatter in one blow; the only purpose other armor served was to hinder dodging.

  Ethan directed the puppet corpse to place the Ogre Krolin, who had fallen unconscious due to worsening injuries, into a nearby rock crevice. Then he himself leaped onto its head. This puppet corpse was just an ordinary Behemoth, and already badly damaged. He couldn't expect it to withstand one blow from the giant beast. Its role was to inflict as much damage as possible on the giant beast while the paralysis scroll took effect, creating an opportunity and time for Ethan.

  Ethan chanted an incantation, reversed the blade in his hand, and cut a wound. He pressed the blade against it.

  The wound was neither small nor shallow, but not a single drop of blood flowed out. All the blood vanished the moment it touched the blade. Even the flesh around the wound turned pale and withered. The originally jet-black and unremarkable blade began to have a layer of dark red light flowing over it.

  Ethan's face paled slightly. This was the first time he had used such a self-mutilating method. Sandro had warned him that while this could temporarily enhance the blade's special effects and power, the magical backlash and damage to the body were equally dangerous. This method was a double-edged sword that should never be used except in the most critical moments.

  Small stones continued to be shaken loose from the cliff faces on both sides, as if the entire earth was being shaken by the giant monster that had not yet appeared. Luken's expression grew increasingly grim. He roared at Ethan: "Be careful! This thing is at least ten meters tall. It will be visible any moment."

  As soon as he spoke, a massive figure turned the corner from a cliff over a li away. Its size far surpassed its kind, all its fur, including its claws, was grayish-white. It stood a full ten meters tall, nearly as wide and thick as it was tall—truly a moving mountain of flesh. Its maw, occupying half its head, could swallow a cow whole. The sharp teeth within were simply a dense cluster of interlocking long swords. The two canines protruding from its mouth were each over a meter long. Its limbs, like a gorilla's but dozens of times thicker, grew palms with nails that could be called the most terrifying weapons on the continent. Each was shaped like a sharp, inward-curving scimitar, the shortest being two meters long. These terrifying natural giant greatswords, wielded with the Behemoth's even more terrifying strength, unleashed destructive power no human weapon could match.

  The giant beast finally saw its prey and let out an earth-shaking roar. Stimulated by the fresh scent of Ogre and werewolf, it raked its claws against the nearby cliff face. The incredibly hard granite immediately collapsed like brittle bread over a large area. Then it moved its thick, short legs and charged towards them, saliva dripping from its mouth.

  The distance of over a li shrank rapidly under the giant beast's strides. As it closed in, the ground trembled more violently, and the entire valley entrance was filled with the mountain-shaking, earth-quaking footsteps.

  Only Vest showed no obvious sign of distress. Lizardmen had few facial muscles to express emotion. Everyone else, including Ethan, had expressions twitching slightly. No matter how brave a warrior, seeing such a colossal monster charging with such overwhelming force towards them, it was impossible to feel any stirring courage or fighting spirit. Ignoring the giant claws and fangs, its sheer weight of hundreds of thousands of jin alone could crush anyone into meat paste.

  Werewolf Luken's ears, which had drooped, suddenly pricked up again. He cautiously tilted his head, then knelt, pressing his ear to the ground. It seemed the footsteps, already felt throughout his body, were still not clear enough for him.

  Everyone saw Luken's action, but there was no time to wonder why he did it. Everyone was focused on the Behemoth giant's rapid approach. The massive body exerted an increasingly irresistible pressure. Even the tall and mighty Ogre seemed like a short, filthy goblin before that body.

  Luken, crouching on the ground, sprang up as if a knife had been jabbed into his ear. Tension and fear made his face look ferocious. He turned and roared a sentence at Ethan. His voice was almost inaudible amidst the deafening footsteps, but everyone heard it clearly. "Another one! Same direction! Suddenly appeared two thousand meters away!"

  "What?" Ethan's body jolted. He nearly lost his footing and fell from the puppet corpse.

  Due to the barrenness of the Sanderfirth Mountains and the Behemoth's enormous appetite, these giants often killed and devoured each other out of food scarcity. To them, their own kind was the only natural enemy. No food would make a Behemoth ignore a possible rival approaching it. The only possibility was that these two Behemoths were companions in some sense, sharing this territory. That meant they had to face two Behemoths.

  The giant beast before them was now only a hundred meters away. The low roar from its cavernous maw rolled out, overwhelming everything along with the footsteps.

  The Ogre let out a roar, seemingly to defy the footsteps, raised his shield, and prepared to charge forward. Arkin's eyes also began to bloodshot. Facing just this one Behemoth giant, they didn't know if they could handle it. Two meant certain death. The fear of death ignited the beastial nature deep within their souls. Extreme fear had transformed into unparalleled fighting spirit and courage. They were on the verge of frenzy.

  "Calm!" Ethan roared with a force that felt like it would tear his vocal cords.

  That feeling of fear and fighting spirit raging wildly within his soul was familiar to him. He knew what the beastmen would do. But no amount of fighting spirit or courage could bridge the gap in absolute power. The result of them cowardly fleeing or bravely charging head-on was the same: death.

  Ethan did not forget the look on Sedros's face when he entrusted this group of beastman elites to him. He was their leader now. He had a responsibility to command them, and an even greater responsibility to bear the consequences. So he remained clear-headed.

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  The beastmen paused upon hearing Ethan's voice. During this time, they had come to fully recognize and trust this human's abilities.

  Ethan reversed the blade again and chanted another incantation. This time, he cut down on his own wrist. The artery severed, blood gushed out, but the moment it touched the blade, it was all absorbed as if by a sponge. The dark red glow on the blade grew denser, and the blade itself began to tremble slightly, like a blood shadow ready to tear through the air at any moment. The incantation condensed into faint, ethereal magical symbols in the air, attaching themselves to the blade.

  The puppet corpse started moving silently, charging towards the giant beast nearly twice its size.

  The blade left his wrist. Ethan felt his limbs turn ice-cold, and the magical power within his body was utterly depleted.

  It was a pity Sandro couldn't see this. If he could, he would surely be furious enough to curse loudly. Because Ethan wasn't just wielding a double-edged sword anymore; he had first stabbed himself half to death with it.

  The man was half-dead, but the blade in his hand seemed to have gained a life of its own. A faint, ethereal hum began to emanate from the blade. The sound seemed small, yet it pierced through the Behemoth's earth-shaking footsteps and roars like a taut wire.

  The puppet corpse and the giant beast collided. At the instant the giant beast raised its claws, Ethan unfurled the scroll. A burst of colorful magical sparks instantly shimmered around the giant beast. Its movements froze abruptly.

  Ethan secretly breathed a sigh of relief. As expected, this White Magic was still effective against the giant. The rest would be easier.

  Seizing the opportunity, the puppet corpse plunged headfirst into the giant beast's embrace, its claws stabbing into its chest and abdomen. But this was by no means a fatal wound. The giant beast was simply too large, too strong. And the toughness of its white fur far surpassed that of other Behemoths. The two claws did not penetrate deeply.

  But this was Ethan's true intention. Because he had to face the second Behemoth next, he couldn't kill this giant beast directly. He leaped from the puppet corpse's head onto the giant beast's head and neck, while shouting to the lizardman who was taking the opportunity to aim at the giant beast's eyes: "Don't shoot! Try to delay the other one!"

  The beastmen froze. But Ethan didn't have time to think about what they could use to delay that perhaps equally massive giant beast. He only had time to roar another command: "And one more thing, the most important: the exit is right ahead. Whatever you do, don't die."

  At that moment, the second Behemoth appeared in the beastmen's line of sight. It was shockingly another adult Behemoth giant, almost identical to the first, appearing from the same direction, charging towards them at the same speed.

  Standing on the giant beast, the coarse grayish-white fur felt like steel needles piercing through his leather boots and into the soles of his feet. The piercing pain jolted Ethan's somewhat muddled spirit, weakened by blood loss. He raised the blade and stabbed down. The dark red blade easily and silently pierced the giant beast's neck. Fur that even the Behemoth's own claws couldn't easily rend parted like rotten cloth before this blade. Ethan plunged the hilt and both hands deep into the Behemoth's body.

  He could feel the blade tearing through fur and muscle, piercing a blood vessel as thick as a water bucket. But no torrent of blood sprayed out. Not even a trace or scent of blood escaped. Ethan only felt the blade in his hands screaming, howling. The blood and magic he had imbued upon it were running frantically, merging with the Behemoth's blood and life force.

  The top-tier scroll's effect lasted just over a second. A roar capable of echoing through the entire Sanderfirth Mountains erupted from the giant beast's maw. Not only the two werewolves, but even the Ogre dropped his shield and covered his ears. The Behemoth giant finally regained mobility, but it ignored the puppet corpse clawing wildly at its chest. Instead, its giant claws changed direction, snapping viciously towards Ethan on its neck. The violent movement seemed as if it wanted to rip its own throat open as well.

  The puppet corpse jumped sharply in place, its claws grabbing the giant beast's giant claws. The giant claws were dragged downward. Two nails, each larger than Ethan's body, scraped past his head with a loud crash, but he could no longer hear it. The beast's roar right beside his ear had already deafened him. He could only feel warm blood flowing out, the same from his nose and the corners of his eyes. It felt as if the brain and flesh inside his skull had been shaken into a pot of rotten bean dregs. He had to use all his strength just to keep from passing out.

  The puppet corpse's claws embedded deeply into the giant beast's forearms, then went completely still. This single action had unleashed all the residual energy within the puppet corpse. Now, this tattered Behemoth corpse acted like a strange shackle, constraining the giant beast's claws.

  Ethan, having directed the puppet corpse through its final action, gripped the hilt with both hands. He could feel the unimaginable life force within this giant beast surging under his hands. He had to seize it.

  The Behemoth giant howled, frantically waving its forearms, trying to smash the tiny, ant-like creature hanging from its neck into pulp. Though the wound there was minor, the strange sensation spreading into its body from that point instinctively alerted it to unprecedented danger. But the puppet corpse was now firmly latched onto its arms, its claws wedged into the gaps between bones. The harder it struggled, the deeper the pain seemed to drill into its marrow. It twisted its thick, short neck desperately, opening and closing its huge maw, but even though it could clearly smell the scent of the tiny ant, it couldn't manage to bite it. So it began to jump frantically, throwing itself against the cliff walls. But no matter how it struggled, the person hanging from its neck remained motionless. Slowly, the giant beast's movements began to slow down.

  The Behemoth giant's foul-smelling breath, the saliva flung from its twisting head and neck, all splattered over Ethan, but he felt nothing. His spirit was already connected to the blood on the blade. He could feel this Behemoth's life beginning to wane. His only thought now was to pull the blade back out.

  At this moment, the beastmen, as Ethan had said, turned to meet the charging second Behemoth giant. Although they had no idea how to block or delay it, they had to try.

  The Ogre roared, raised his shield, and charged at the Behemoth. His once-majestic frame didn't even reach the Behemoth's waist. It looked like a toddler who had just learned to walk, wielding a toy weapon and desperately charging at a burly man armed with a real weapon—a mix of bravery, absurdity, and tragedy. Although he was indeed the most likely candidate here to possibly block it, to withstand one attack from the Behemoth, this "most likely" was just a sliver of hope, almost invisible, amidst the absolute impossibility.

  The lizardman, Vest, made no sound or gesture of agitation. Silently holding his steel crossbow, he leaped towards the Behemoth giant. Even bolts that could pierce steel plate couldn't guarantee penetrating the Behemoth's fur. The only two places that might be effective were the eyes and the mouth. And to hit the disproportionately small eyes during movement, or the mouth obscured by sharp teeth, required getting very close, perhaps even needing to leap onto the Behemoth like Ethan. Whether he would have the opportunity and luck to do so under the Behemoth's claws was highly questionable.

  Arkin's roar was even louder and wilder than Vyr's. He picked up the weapons he had dropped on the ground and charged after the Ogre. Even though he knew he couldn't harm or hinder the Behemoth, he absolutely couldn't just stand there. Even with his own teeth and claws, he had to follow Ethan's command and try his best to delay the monster. That last command Ethan had补充 made his blood and fighting spirit boil completely. He had resolved himself: to争取 even a fraction more chance for his comrades, even if it meant being torn to shreds or trampled into meat paste.

  Only Luken's action differed from theirs. He suddenly turned and ran towards the Behemoth that was carrying Ethan, staggering and crashing against the cliff walls.

  He dodged the Behemoth's massive footsteps, pounced on the ground, and grabbed something. As he grabbed it, the Behemoth's foot, capable of turning him into a puddle of flesh, stomped on his tail. He let out a shriek, clear even amidst the Behemoth's roar. And after that foot fell, it didn't lift again, pinning him firmly to the spot. He shrieked and wrenched free with all his might, leaving his tail under the Behemoth's foot.

  Crawling out from under the Behemoth's body and escaping, Luken unrolled the thing he had picked up. It was shockingly Ethan's remaining "Blazing Might Shot" scroll, which had fallen off him during the Behemoth's struggles.

  As the scroll unrolled, a blindingly brilliant sphere of light appeared between Luken's hands. No one could clearly see the size of this sphere. The other beastmen, who were running, had to instinctively shield their eyes. It was almost like a small sun dragged down to the mortal realm. Everyone could only vaguely perceive a trail of dazzling light streaking past, followed by a searing heat wave sweeping over them.

  The sound of the explosion wasn't earth-shattering, just a small report like an ordinary mage's fire arrow, with no significant blast wave—utterly disproportionate to its brilliant radiance. Instead, it was the Behemoth giant's roar that shook the entire valley entrance.

  Facing the blinding light, the Behemoth also instinctively raised its clawed hands to shield its eyes. So its head and face were merely singed black, all fur burned away. The giant claws and palms shielding it, however, vanished, leaving only two charred, severed arms and a ground covered in thoroughly incinerated, carbonized debris.

  After releasing the scroll, Luken, wreathed in black smoke, collapsed to the ground. All the fur on his body had been instantly incinerated the moment he released the scroll.

  This was probably one reason the scroll had survived. The power of this top-tier Fire attack magic lay not in the explosion, but in the temperature. If not operated by the mage himself, the instant the intensely hot sphere of light materialized from the scroll, it would have half-cooked the user.

  The Behemoth giant waved its remaining charred, severed arms. An agonized roar rolled from its huge maw. But only half a roar came out; the rest was a strange gurgling sound. The lizardman, Vest, didn't miss the opportunity. He leaped into the air, raised his fine steel crossbow, and pulled the trigger. The venomous bolt shot into the Behemoth's mouth, piercing deep into its throat.

  But this Behemoth did not fall. The bolt hadn't pierced its brainstem as Vest had hoped, and the poison's effect was too slow to act instantly on such a giant monster. The Behemoth's charcoal-like stump of an arm swept out. Though not a direct hit, just a glancing blow, the lizardman in mid-air was sent flying like straw, crashing against the cliff face. Then this half-dead Behemoth continued moving forward.

  Vyr and Arkin together slammed their full weight into the back of the Behemoth's knee. A loud crash. The Behemoth fell seated, but immediately swung its severed arm out again. The Ogre and werewolf were also sent flying. Then the Behemoth scrambled to its feet at top speed and charged towards its companion, who also seemed unsteady on its feet.

  Suddenly, an overwhelming stench of blood filled the entire valley. Then came an all-encompassing redness. Even the noon sun high in the sky turned into a dazzling drop of blood.

  Ethan finally pulled the blade from the Behemoth's body. As the blade came out, a vast wave of blood light followed. This didn't just extract the blade; it drained all the blood and vital essence from the giant beast's body. The struggling Behemoth collapsed instantly and silently in that moment, shrinking like a deflated ball.

  This congealed blood, containing the entirety of the Behemoth giant's life force, did not spill. Instead, like part of the blade, it coalesced on the weapon, emitting a blood light and stench that filled the entire valley entrance.

  Ethan raised the blade, also raising this enormous expanse of blood red with immense difficulty. Beneath this vast crimson, his figure appeared pale and insignificant, like an inconspicuous accessory. Even the charging giant beast seemed trivial.

  The blood light solidified along the blade's shape into a colossal sword. This color and scent greatly stimulated the half-dead Behemoth. It roared, seemingly squeezing out the last remnants of its life force, and suddenly accelerated its charge.

  Ethan also roared and swung the blade down in a wide arc. The giant blood-red blade transformed into a screen of brilliant crimson light that filled the valley with his movement. Neither the Behemoth's roar nor his own voice could be heard. The hum and tearing sound of the crimson light overwhelmed everything.

  Like a giant red lightning bolt striking the valley, blood and gravel erupted into a hurricane that swept through. The ground shook. The entire valley entrance seemed to be split in two by this blade.

  As the rain of blood settled, the Behemoth corpse, cleaved neatly in two down the middle, crashed to the ground. In the path of this blade, splattered blood formed a road. A trench over a li long and over a meter deep appeared in the hard rock ground.

  Ethan, after delivering this strike, collapsed to the ground like the Behemoth, as if this blow had also expended his own blood and life.

  The first to stand up was surprisingly Luken, covered in black soot. The high-temperature burn was only a superficial injury; he had simply been knocked unconscious by the sudden, intense heat. Next was the Ogre, Vyr. His armor and sturdy body had spared him from too much harm. Arkin had only lost one hand and a few ribs. A werewolf's keen reflexes and movements allowed him to block and twist away at the critical moment, avoiding being smashed into paste by the charcoal-like giant arm. The lizardman had more broken bones, but this was nothing given their astonishing regenerative abilities.

  The beastmen looked at the two neatly severed halves of the Behemoth corpse on the ground, the spilled entrails, and the ground covered in blood. Most importantly, they looked at the trench, almost unimaginable as man-made. Only shock and awe filled their eyes. In their impression, perhaps even General Gru could not possess such unfathomable power.

  It was noon. The wind had almost completely stopped. Within this hour, they could smoothly pass through the narrowest part of the valley entrance ahead.

  Arkin stepped forward, wanting to help Ethan up with his remaining good arm, but found he was completely unconscious, his life force extremely faint, as if he might breathe his last at any moment.

  "What do we do? How can we save him?" Arkin asked the others anxiously. During their time in the valley, he had developed a genuine respect for this human. Although he didn't know who this person really was, the calm, reason he showed as their leader, and the power he had just displayed, all indicated this was a true powerhouse and warrior. And the shared life-and-death experiences, plus that last command he gave, all signified this was absolutely a comrade, a friend.

  And the strong and the friend were always worthy of respect, especially to those who lived in battle.

  Vyr and Vest shook their heads blankly, saying nothing. The special physiology of their races made them even less adept than anyone at healing.

  Everyone's gaze turned to Luken. Although not explicitly stated, in the valley, he had been the one closest to Ethan, cooperating most closely. His mind was also the sharpest among all the beastmen, giving him an implicit air of a vice-captain.

  But Luken only looked down at Ethan's face with a strange gaze, then turned to examine the two Behemoth corpses. He looked very carefully, even walking over and laboriously turning over the three huge piles of meat. Then he walked back to the others and said: "Don't worry about him. Leave him here. Let's get out first, then talk."

  "What did you say?" Arkin didn't show surprise, but pricked up his ears, thinking he might be hallucinating from the Behemoth's roar.

  "We need to move quickly." Luken wiped the blackened fur from his body with his hands. He was now a hairless werewolf, looking indescribably strange. "A bloodstink this huge will attract other Behemoths and giant eagles very soon."