Mortis lightly touched the wound on his neck. The stinging pain made him grimace inwardly.
Black mist coiled around the edges, continuously hindering the healing.
“Werewolf…” he muttered, voice tinged with suppressed anger.
Crimson energy flowed from his fingertip, forming an exquisite blood armor over the wound that hid the vicious claw marks.
Mortis gave the Sword Saint no chance to rise again. He raised a hand and pressed down. Countless blood-crystal spears rained.
After finishing this, Mortis turned to Visarius, tone utterly calm. “Clean up the rest. It’s yours.”
Visarius bowed deeply. “As Your Majesty commands.”
Though Mortis remained composed, once his figure merged into the blood canopy, the surging crimson sky retreated at shocking speed, even faster than it had arrived.
Watching the canopy vanish, Visarius quietly wondered if something had happened in the rear.
After all, with the Emperor personally on the battlefield, even if he didn’t stay to personally destroy Threehill City’s remaining barriers, he should have gone to Xenophon’s side for a swift victory.
Such hasty departure meant something Visarius didn’t know about had occurred.
But since His Majesty had said nothing, he naturally wouldn’t ask.
This campaign had gone poorly enough to force the Emperor’s personal intervention. That alone was Visarius’s failure as supreme commander.
Once the canopy disappeared from the horizon, Visarius’s first act was to search the spear forest for the Sword Saint’s corpse.
Humanity’s strongest warrior had been even more formidable than expected. If he hadn’t played it safe, even with two lives left, victory would have been uncertain.
Or rather, defeat had been highly likely.
Even if he had somehow won, [Blood of the Closest Kin] would have been completely depleted. A total loss for him personally.
In the center of the spears, he found the Sword Saint’s remains, a broken skeleton?!
He immediately summoned blood bats to guard the surroundings. Only after confirming safety did he examine the bones. After repeated checks, he confirmed: this skeleton really was the Sword Saint.
“His Majesty’s attack… corrodes flesh as well?”
He had never seen the Emperor use anything like it.
But considering His Majesty’s paranoid nature, keeping some cards hidden made sense.
Besides, there was no more reasonable explanation.
No mycelium near the corpse.
Though he knew fungal mats decomposed bodies, normal decomposition still took two or three days. The Prince naturally never considered Puchis.
Regardless, confirming the Sword Saint’s death removed the last of Visarius’s worries.
Though some human remnants had retreated into Threehill City for a final stand, with the Sword Saint dead and the lycanthropized rearguard about to be annihilated, the city’s fall was only a matter of time.
All that remained was to wait for good news from Xenophon. Even merely repelling the human reinforcements would plunge the already exhausted defenders into total despair.
“Your Highness,” the one-armed Earn limped forward, blood-soaked cape dragging behind him. The stump had already stopped bleeding under the canopy’s influence. “Shall we storm the city now, or reinforce the blocking force first?”
Visarius studied this loyal subordinate.
Though Earn had failed to protect the rear camp, his command after Visarius’s “death” had been commendable.
Such courage and ability were worth cultivating. The only thing lacking was strength, and that was easily fixed.
Compared to…
His gaze slid past Earn to Brennus, who was chugging healing potions in the distance. A mocking smile tugged at his lips.
This human traitor had been beaten senseless by Xenophon even before defecting. Without the Sword Saint’s rescue, he would have been crushed.
Strength without courage or strategy…
Hmm… sounds familiar.
Visarius couldn’t help but think of Elinore…
At least Elinore knew how to raise blood livestock. Slightly better than this waste.
Still, if the man weren’t like this, turning him would have been far harder.
Visarius would naturally honor his promise. Brennus’s lands would be preserved.
But in the Empire where the weak were prey, a man with neither strength nor talent yet sitting on land, population, and wealth…
Visarius could already picture the fool’s future struggles among wolves. It might even be entertaining.
He turned to Earn. “I’ll give you some men. First go clean up those things in the rear camp…”
BOOM!
The earth shuddered violently. Smoke and dust billowed from the western forest.
The Prince narrowed his scarlet eyes, the unfinished order hanging on his lips.
…
Demon camp, one of the remaining warehouses.
This warehouse held the most basic and most urgently needed healing and mana potions.
Facing the Puchis’ relentless infiltration, Earn had concentrated the last of his defenses here. This was one of them.
Number One was currently leading the mushroom-race brothers and the ordinary Puchis the Lord had given it in fierce combat against the guards.
The other areas were already destroyed. The force in its hands could probably breach just this one last warehouse.
Yet it had a bad feeling.
Through mushroom sense, it could tell Number Two and the others were nearby…
Sure enough, when they finally broke through the last defense, even sacrificing one of their own in a self-destruct to storm inside, they found Number Two leisurely pouring mana potions over its cap.
Not far away, a plump recluse Burrowing Puchi radiated heat, clearly having just tunneled in.
“Number Two!” Number One’s mycelium instantly stiffened. “You dare steal my achievement?”
Number Two slowly set down the empty bottle and gracefully smoothed the remaining blue potion over its cap. “Big brother, what are you saying? Didn’t we agree, each by our own ability? I took this warehouse with a carefully planned surprise attack.”
“You clearly waited for me to pin down the main guards, then sneaked in to pick the fruit!”
Just then, the ground shook.
Number One and Number Two stopped arguing, puzzled, and extended their senses.
Suddenly, Number Five turned and bolted for the tunnel, shouting through the network as it ran: “The sky!”
The Puchis looked up with their caps.
A black shadow fell like a meteor.
The next instant, Puchis, potions, warehouse, everything was obliterated in the massive impact.
Wrath, skin covered in web-like cracks, let out a beastly roar from her throat.
She was like a walking inferno, setting everything in her path ablaze.
In her blurred consciousness, she felt her destination was very close.
But what was she going there for?
She had forgotten. Or perhaps she had never known.
She simply followed the guidance, heading straight for Threehill City.
(End of Chapter)
