Chapter 286: Hunter and Prey

Since Baron Mavi had stopped fleeing, Mumuta was no longer in a rush. The ferocious barbarian flicked his iron rod—a weapon resembling a baseball bat. Blood flew from the metal, tracing an arc before splattering against the nearby City Wall.

Mavi, the third-generation Baron of Greenvine Town, watched the barbarian chieftain close in step by step. He swallowed hard. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as both hands clamped tightly around his ancestral Enchanted Longsword.

This Enchanted Longsword was a spoil of war claimed by Mavi's grandfather, the first Baron of Greenvine Town. Wielding this blade, the first baron had distinguished himself from countless ordinary soldiers, rising steadily through the ranks of the border garrison until he earned the title of baron.

Baron Mavi whispered a prayer.

"God of war, Lord Haridon, please grant me courage. Help me defeat the enemy before me!"

Perhaps the god of war had truly granted him courage, or perhaps it was mere psychological comfort, but Mavi was no longer as afraid. His focus sharpened to a razor's edge, automatically filtering out the panicked screams of the surrounding soldiers. Nothing existed in his vision but the approaching figure of Mumuta.

Mumuta noticed the shift in Baron Mavi's demeanor and felt annoyed.

The look in the eyes of this damn two-legged sheep was truly irritating.

Losing his interest in toying with the enemy, Mumuta charged at Baron Mavi.

The gap of several meters vanished in the blink of an eye. Raising his iron rod high, Mumuta brought it smashing down toward Baron Mavi's head.

Driven by extreme tension, Baron Mavi's heart pounded furiously as his adrenaline surged. His reaction speed spiked; he dodged to the side while simultaneously thrusting his longsword toward the barbarian chieftain's heart.

The solid iron rod weighed over two hundred pounds, yet in the brawny Mumuta's grasp, it seemed as light as an ordinary wooden stick. The plunging iron halted abruptly, sweeping horizontally to smash against the longsword.

A massive force transmitted down the blade, nearly ripping the sword from Mavi's grip.

Baron Mavi made a swift judgment. The barbarian's brute strength was staggering, and his Warrior rank was far above his own. However, his massive bulk meant that speed was his relative weakness. The baron decided to rely on hit-and-run tactics, stalling for time until reinforcements arrived.

Baron Mavi rolled backward, dodging a sweeping kick from the barbarian chieftain. Mumuta pursued him relentlessly, casually dispatching several ordinary soldiers who tried to surround him.

Using the soldiers for cover, Baron Mavi struggled to evade the barbarian chieftain's onslaught.

Executing a messy roll to put some distance between them, Baron Mavi scrambled to his feet. He leveled his longsword in front of him, falling into a defensive stance.

Though he had managed to evade the barbarian chieftain's attacks, Baron Mavi looked utterly battered. Flying wood splinters had lacerated his handsome face, leaving bloody scratches tracing through the grime, and his once-immaculate combat gear was now thoroughly stained with dirt and gore.

But Baron Mavi had no mind to pay attention to such details. His eyes were locked entirely on this heavily built, robust barbarian.

Frustration gnawed at Mumuta. This scrawny two-legged sheep was as agile as a monkey, scrambling to put distance between them at every opportunity to hide behind pillars, tables, and other obstacles. Combined with the constant harassment from those damned soldiers, he had spent nearly half a minute without managing to kill the man.

By now, more and more soldiers were converging on the battlefield. The other barbarians under Mumuta's command had also used grappling hooks to quickly scale the City Wall, plunging into bloody melee with the garrison.

He needed to quickly kill this apparent leader and impact the defenders' morale.

With that thought, Mumuta tightened his grip on his iron rod as the qi within his body surged.

Feeling the sudden shift in Mumuta's aura, Baron Mavi grew even more grim. He channeled his own qi, infusing it into his Enchanted Longsword.

A Warrior's qi differed from a Mage's magic. A Mage's magic served as a tool to commune with magical elements, and it was the magical elements that truly unleashed destructive power.

The qi within a Warrior, however, inherently possessed a potent amplifying effect. Channeled into a weapon, qi could elevate a Warrior's destructive output; channeled into the flesh, it heightened their physical strength, speed, and reaction time. The more qi expended, the greater the amplification.

It was precisely because the qi within High-Tier Warriors was so profound that they could often crush Low-Tier Warriors. Thus, while fighting above one's tier did occur, it was highly improbable.

Mumuta moved!

Stomping heavily against the ground, he kicked up a ring of dust and launched himself at Baron Mavi like a cannonball.

It was just an ordinary overhead strike, yet it gave Baron Mavi the distinct sensation that escape was impossible.

His scalp prickling with dread, Baron Mavi activated the enchantment on his ancestral longsword.

Light Feather Incantation!

Azure threads of magical energy bloomed from the Enchanted Longsword. The heavy blade, weighing dozens of jin, instantly grew lighter. As the magical energy cascaded onto Baron Mavi's body, he felt as though he were about to float into the air.

Bolstered by the magic, Baron Mavi dodged Mumuta's strike once again.

Mumuta was taken aback, never expecting the longsword in Baron Mavi's hand to be a magical weapon.

The barbarians' civilization was backward, and their endless raids on other nations had left them isolated. Even a Master-Tier combatant like Mumuta did not possess a single decent magical weapon.

A burst of nameless fury ignited within Mumuta, deepening his craving to destroy the man before him. His internal qi surged madly. Baron Mavi's pressure multiplied, and he scrambled to evade the barbarian chieftain's onslaught.

Finally, Mumuta seized an opening and forced Baron Mavi into a dead end!

Mumuta excitedly raised his iron rod high.

"Boy! You're dead!"

With an explosive roar, the iron rod plummeted.

The barbarian blocked his path like a solid wall, cutting off any avenue of escape. Staring up at the descending iron rod, Baron Mavi fell into despair.

Fury! Unwillingness! Despair! They all surged into his heart at once.

"Let's die together!"

His emotions erupted like a volcano, triggering a final, desperate burst of counterattacking strength from within. Baron Mavi abruptly thrust his longsword straight ahead. Driven by certain death, this strike shattered Baron Mavi's limits, reaching the absolute pinnacle of speed!

Acting on pure instinct, Mumuta threw his hand in front of his body. The longsword pierced straight through the barbarian's broad palm, while the iron rod pulverized Baron Mavi's head. Red and white matter sprayed in every direction.

Robbed of its driving force, the longsword stopped, its tip resting right before Mumuta's chest.

Staring down at the gleaming blade less than a finger's width from his chest, lingering dread washed over Mumuta.

Just a hair's breadth away, and he would have ended up capsizing in a ditch!

Fortunately, it was only a close call. Even with the aid of an excellent-quality magical weapon, the chasm between a Mid-Tier Warrior and a Master-Tier Warrior was impassable. Thus, Baron Mavi died, and Mumuta lived.

Still, to push Mumuta this far with only the strength of a Mid-Tier Warrior was an achievement Baron Mavi's clansmen could take pride in.

A piercing agony radiated from his palm. Sucking in a cold breath, Mumuta gripped the hilt and slowly withdrew the longsword that had skewered his hand.

Tomaru, a Master-Tier Warrior of the Simir Family, scaled the City Wall just in time to witness this scene: a heavy-set barbarian was yanking a longsword out of his pierced palm. At the base of the wall before him lay a corpse with everything above the neck pulverized into mush, while an endless stream of barbarians charged onto the ramparts, locked in bloody combat with the soldiers.

Dragging his heavy broadsword, Tomaru charged straight at the barbarian chieftain.

......

Even though the battle at the west gate raged furiously, the soldiers stationed on the other sections of the wall remained firmly at their posts.

Until they received orders from their commanding officers, soldiers were forbidden from abandoning their stations. This was the iron law of city defense.

However, the clamor from the west inevitably drew the soldiers' attention. It wasn't until a comrade let out a bloodcurdling scream that they realized a lean, heavily muscled barbarian had somehow slipped onto the ramparts.

Wearing a vicious sneer, Pomahan swung his scimitar. Like a farmer scything through wheat, he reaped the soldiers defending White Bird City's south gate.

Pomahan carved out an empty clearing atop the south gate. The barbarians below swiftly hurled their grappling hooks, scrambling onto the ramparts to clash with the surging tide of soldiers.

Meanwhile, Pomahan led several of his most trusted subordinates down from the ramparts and threw open the main gates.

The moment Pomahan had set foot on the ramparts, the vast barbarian army hiding in the nearby forest spurred their steeds, charging directly toward the city gates.

At the same time, the Mages inside the Simir Family Castle also detected the anomaly at the south gate. They immediately notified Salok, the acting lord of White Bird City, who was currently leading his forces toward the west gate.

Salok's expression drastically changed the moment he received the magical transmission. He hurriedly brought his relief column to a halt.

"Panda! Take five hundred men to reinforce the west gate."

"Yes!"

"Everyone else! Reverse direction! Come with me to reinforce the south gate!"

As they rode through the streets, Salok called out to the Magic Consultant riding beside him.

"Master Owen, please send a message to the Mages remaining in the castle. Request His Highness Milem's assistance!"

"No problem!"

Master Owen guided his horse into a narrow alley just off the main avenue and began casting his spell.

Having marched hard all day, the Third Prince was completely exhausted. At this moment, the supreme commander remained Salok, yet Salok held absolutely no authority over the troops the Third Prince had brought with him.

Back in the castle, the freshly armored Third Prince quickly received Salok's plea for aid. He agreed immediately, then inquired about the current situation.

"Your Highness, the barbarians attacked the west gate, and the Acting Lord led his forces to reinforce it. But the west gate was merely a diversion; their main force struck the south gate. By now, the bulk of the barbarian army has already breached the city, and the Acting Lord is currently engaging them."

"Damn it!"

Just like Baron Mavi, everyone had assumed that even if the barbarians launched a raid, they would strike during the dead of night. No one anticipated that they would launch an assault so soon after nightfall, nor that their offensive would be so fierce.

Surrounded by his royal guards, the Third Prince, Milem, strode toward the castle gates.

The moment they stepped past the castle gates, the group saw a stark crimson glow and billowing black smoke rising into the southern sky.

"These damn barbarians actually dare to set fires!"

The Third Prince's face turned livid. White Bird City was his most powerful pillar of support in the Northland. He had planned to use the city as his foundation for a grand campaign against the barbarians, ultimately seizing the supreme crown. And now, these barbarians were actually setting fires inside White Bird City.

"Hatim! Take your men and reinforce them at once!"

Hatim, a Master-Tier Warrior and the captain of the royal guard, was deeply concerned for the prince's safety. He hurriedly spoke up.

"Your Highness, but..."

"No buts! Viscount Namisha's son must not be allowed to come to any harm!"

The Third Prince naturally understood his captain's concerns, but Salok was simply too vital. Although Viscount Namisha was merely a viscount, he was the Third Prince's most crucial local ally in The North. His only son's safety was naturally of the utmost importance.

"Rest easy. I will stay by General Mirotai of the White Wolf Army."

General Mirotai, commander of ten thousand men in the White Wolf Army, possessed a Warrior rank at Level 14. Knowing the prince would be guarded by him and the White Wolf Army finally put Hatim's mind at ease.

"You lot, follow me!"

The Third Prince then turned to Samisi, a High-Tier Mage and advisor by his side.

"Samisi! Prepare a Rainstorm spell! Put out those fires!"

Samisi accepted the order, standing firmly in place as he began chanting his incantation.

The Rainstorm spell was a large-scale magic that lacked lethal offensive power. Mages typically used it to sculpt advantageous battlefield conditions, and during droughts, kind-hearted Mages would cast it to irrigate farmers' fields. Right now, it was the perfect tool for firefighting.

Elemental power saturated the air, rapidly converging into a massive expanse of black clouds in the sky above.

Over twenty seconds later, a torrential downpour blanketed the entire southern district of White Bird City.

Both the Third Prince and Samisi let out a sigh of relief. The wider a fire spread, the harder it became to extinguish. Since the Third Prince intended to use White Bird City as his foundation to attack the barbarians, he naturally could not sit by and watch it burn to ruins.

"Let's go! To the White Wolf Army's encampment!"

It was naturally impossible for all ten thousand soldiers of the White Wolf Army to reside inside the castle walls. They were garrisoned in the commercial district a short distance away.

Taking his remaining guards, the Third Prince hurried toward the White Wolf Army encampment.

......

The magically conjured downpour ruthlessly extinguished the newly lit fires, soaking the combatants fighting in the streets and alleys down to the bone.

Water droplets clinging to his eyelashes blurred his vision. Wiping the rain from his face, Salok—son of Viscount Namisha and acting lord of White Bird City—peered down at the chaotic melee sprawling across the streets and alleys.

Currently, this supreme commander of White Bird City's defense forces was perched on a roof that stood a head taller than the surrounding structures, observing the tide of battle below.

The barbarians' strategy was wildly successful!

By the time Salok had arrived, several thousand barbarians had already poured into White Bird City, slaughtering and setting fires everywhere.

The two sides had inevitably clashed the moment they met, yet the faction holding the advantage wasn't the vastly more numerous White Bird City. The raging flames and choking smoke had left the city's soldiers feeling adrift, right up until the sudden downpour literally shook them awake.

Soon after, brutal urban warfare erupted. The wails of civilians, the furious roars of soldiers, and the maniacal laughter of barbarians bled into a single cacophony.

The urban warfare severely weakened White Bird City's numerical superiority and their soldiers' group combat advantage. Consequently, the far larger defending force found themselves suppressed.

A deep sense of foreboding settled over Salok. Nighttime visibility was worse than during the day, and the sheer chaos of urban warfare made it impossible for him, the commander, to manage the broader battle. Right now, White Bird City's defenders had collapsed into a completely disorganized state, whereas the barbarians were operating with clear, planned efficiency.

Operating in groups of several dozen, the barbarians were engaging enemies several times their number in the tight alleys while maintaining the upper hand. If this continued, White Bird City's morale would inevitably crumble.

In a corner completely hidden from Salok's sight, the elites of the Barbarian Tribe had already locked onto him. Taking note of the heavy guard detail flanking his position, the barbarian hunters confirmed that he was a high-value target.

Pomahan fixed his gaze on Salok from a rooftop several hundred meters away. Hunting down the high-ranking commanding officers to cripple the defenders' chain of command, plunge them into disarray, and subsequently shatter their morale—this was the barbarians' strategy for victory.