Return of the Woodcutter

He'd have to forcefully ask them to let him pass. Broken bones, shredded throats, missing arms, legs and decapitation should do.

At least he saw no other way. 

Their numbers were overwhelming though. Plus, thanks to the huge open space in which they could freely maneuver, they could surround him in no time. 

And damn, those guys were well-armed. Warriors standing by the entrances had, at the very least, leather armors. Some of them were equipped with some steel armor parts. Probably slowly accumulating equipment to have a complete set of full plated armor. 

Archers standing behind the warriors at the ready were all equipped with either cloth armor or just leather armors. Since they didn't go into melee that often, they had less protective equipment. 

Then there were mages. Pain in ass stereotypical hooded guys with powers capable of rendering any equipment perfectly useless. If fireballs hit a full-plated warrior multiple times, the warrior would probably be cooked alive like a roasted chicken in an oven. Even with Durability. 

Thankfully, he had the perfect counter to those nasty cheaters.

Well, they probably weren't all elementalists. But whatever, most of them were. It was the most popular mage class. Also, Aito couldn't know everything.

If necessary, he'd improvise on the flight. 

Aito then noticed something, the henchmen were fewer in numbers on the black corner. It looked slightly weaker than the other corners. Was it intentional? It looked more like a trap than anything else. 

As he saw it, they might be thinking he'd come down from that side. Hard to tell. How could they be thinking he'd do that? 

'Damn it, it's so confusing.' 

To most, it'd just look like a weak point, but to Aito, it sure was a trap, and being weak was its true purpose.

If he came down from the stairs, he could pave his way through those henchmen alone. That's when he'd be trapped inside, though. The goal was probably to draw him in, then encircle him so that he wouldn't escape using the stairs. 

That was Aito's guess and the only reason he could find as to why that particular corner looked weaker. Well, there was also the improbable reason: they hadn't realized it. 

Fat chance of that happening, though. 

'Anyway, it looks like the forceful way might be my only ticket out of this place.' He thought, then realized another problem. 'Damn… how do I even walk out of here the staff's staircase. I could use a distraction but…' 

At that moment, Ogoro walked down the stairs with a cloaked figure. Aito couldn't help but feel guilty at the sight of this man braving the impossible on his own. Well, it looked like he got help. 

A few moments later, Ogoro went wild as the supposed "helper" accompanying him ran away like a chicken. The man was quickly killed. 

"Don't worry, Sheyla! Onii-chan has arrived!" Ogoro exclaimed. 

Like many others, Aito froze, more because of the uncommon nature of this war cry than anything else. 

However, it lasted for only a second as he realized he got the distraction he needed. 

'Ask and you shall receive,' Aito thought, storing the two weird balls in his pant's pocket to draw his ax.

He waited a bit. 

Certain the few henchmen next to the wall he planned on crossing were watching the Onii-Chan's outburst, Aito hid his appearance under the cloak's hood and proceeded to blend into the confused crowd. 

The transparent wall flickered as Aito's body crossed over to the first floor, creating ripples on the wall that soon stopped when he emerged on the blue corner, next to two henchmen who seemed to be betting. 

"Five goblin soul cores Onii-chan doesn't last five minutes." 

"Sure. Although I do think Onii-chan's power could surprise us! Hahaha." 

Aito silently passed by the two idiots laughing over an idiotic joke instead of actually helping their comrades fight off a raging older brother. 

Thanks to his cloak and the great distraction, Aito successfully made his way half through Sheyla's position. 

Being on the opposite side of Ogoro's rampage, he didn't have to get mixed up in the conflict yet. 

Aito soon reached an impasse. More than seventy challengers had assembled at the center to protect the sect master. Nobody was allowed through. So Aito pretended he came as reinforcement and blended in the crowd. Like the others, he stared at Ogoro, who appeared to be in a pickle. 

Surrounded on all sides, he was already doing a good job slicing anyone daring enough to approach him.

However, injuries on his body were accumulating at a rapid pace. Three arrows had found their way through his armor's weak points. 

His backside showed burnt marks, probably caused by fireballs. Some of his leather armor parts had deep cuts in them. 

At this rate, even with his skills, he wouldn't last more than two minutes. Maybe less. Meaning the distraction would cease soon. 

'Damn it… if I wait, I could probably reach Sheyla undetected.' Aito thought, 'But Ogoro could die in the meantime.' 

Aito sighed. He had forgotten that another person could also need saving. His left hand reached for the short crossbow strapped to the left side of his waist, thinking of using it, but nah, he wasn't as proficient with it as to prevent hitting the two people who needed help. 

You never know, in such a chaotic situation, firing on your own allies was easier than anyone would think. Well, firing in a crowd would also be easier to land a hit. 

A henchman next to him noticed his heavy sigh and asked, "What's the matter? Did you lose your bet? Ah, should have bet Ogoro to last three or four minutes. Too late for regrets now." 

"Nah, I haven't lost my bet," Aito replied, as the ax morphed into a two-handed executioner ax while producing clicking sounds. "But you're about to lose yours." 

The henchman's gaze shifted from mockery to curiosity, then shock as Aito sliced off his head in less time than it took to say "fuck." 

Aito's hood went down because of the sudden rapid move, revealing his new Greek-like helmet. 

He infused mana into it to activate an additional feature the minerian had added to it. The metal covering his jawline lengthened from both sides to meet at the center, forming a face mask akin to a ninja's, albeit crafted from steel instead of cloth. There were tiny holes purposely made for breathing more easily.

CLICK!

Only the area around Aito's eyes remained uncovered, granting him enough space to see almost unhindered. Although his field of vision was slightly affected, it couldn't be helped. It was the price to pay for protection. Better that than receiving an arrow in the head.

He took a rapid step forward. In an instant, he infused his equipment with Durabilty, increased the weight of his own weapon by 2.5 times, then swiftly activated Whirlwind while advancing. 

Arms, legs, heads, armor parts. In less than two seconds, a bloody carnage decorated the floor around him as he stopped to reposition himself while his opponents' armors started to glow yellow.

"You should all reconsider your bets," he said, before starting a slaughter even more gruesome than Ogoro's.