Chapter 214: Chapter 107: Senior, How Long Are You Going to Hug Me?
The reaction was most intense among the mercenaries and some of Craig’s men. They were already unhappy with Angus’s caution, and now they were utterly incensed.
"Damn it! That bitch has a death wish!"
"Commander, let me go cut her down!"
"She’s all alone. What’s she got to be so arrogant about!"
Angus’s brow furrowed even deeper at the sight.
’Their intentions are too obvious. This is clearly a deliberate attempt to goad us.’
"Hold on!"
Seeing his soldiers growing agitated and restless, Angus barked a command to stop them, raising a hand to signal for silence.
His sharp gaze was fixed on the birch forest behind Catherine, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Look closely. Something seems off on the other side of that birch forest!"
The clamor died down instantly as everyone followed his gaze, staring intently.
In the distance, at the far edge of the birch forest where the twilight met the mountain’s shadow, faint plumes of unusual dust were rising. It had been hard to spot from a distance, backlit as it was, without looking very closely.
"Is that... an ambush?" a squad leader asked hesitantly.
"It’s probably just a ruse, a bluff!" the scar-faced Craig snorted, though a hint of caution had entered his eyes.
He turned and yelled to his men, "Old Liu, you brought your trained hawk, didn’t you? Send it up for a look!"
A Hunter with a camouflaged face stepped forward and unfastened a sharp-eyed gray hawk from his gauntlet.
He murmured a few words to the hawk before raising his arm and tossing it into the air.
The gray hawk beat its wings, circled once in the sky, and then flew toward the birch forest on the opposite bank.
The Hunter closed his eyes, forging a mental link to share the hawk’s vision. But he was not high-tier, and using this skill was clearly a strain—the veins on his temples bulged.
The hawk swiftly crossed the stone bridge and neared the airspace above the birch forest. Just as it began to lower its altitude to circle...
Suddenly.
"WHOOSH—!"
A pale streak of light, almost too fast to see, erupted from the woods. It pierced the hawk’s chest with pinpoint accuracy, shattering its spine.
A killing blow.
The hawk didn’t even have time to flutter. As if struck by a paralysis spell, it spiraled down into the sparse woods.
"AAGH—!"
"Argh!"
The Hunter shrieked, clutching his head as he staggered backward. Blood trickled from his nostrils—the clear result of magical backlash from having his mental link severed so violently.
"A perfect shot," Angus said, his expression grim.
’Just as I thought, they were prepared. And that hidden archer is highly skilled. A major threat.’
"Mage." Angus turned to the gray-robed fire Mage who had been silent until now. "Could you please test the waters? Try to illuminate the area where the dust is rising with your Magic."
The shadows under the gray-robed Mage’s hood shifted slightly. A raspy voice emerged. "It’s too far. The effect will be better if I cast from the bridge, but I’ll need an escort."
"Barton, protect the Mage!" Angus commanded.
Barton, Captain of the Personal Guard, immediately stepped forward with a dozen elite shieldmen. They interlocked their greatshields around the gray-robed Mage, forming a mobile shield wall.
Tightly protected, the gray-robed Mage dismounted, drew his Magic Staff, and slowly set foot on the stone bridge, cautiously advancing toward the opposite bank.
Just as they reached the middle of the bridge.
"WHOOSH—THUNK!!"
Another sharp whistle tore through the air.
The force behind this arrow was even more terrifying.
But this arrow wasn’t aimed at the heavily protected Mage. Instead, it struck from a wicked angle, piercing the weaker edge of a shieldman’s shield. Without losing any momentum, it buried itself in the throat of another Personal Guard behind him.
The Personal Guard didn’t even have time to cry out. His eyes went wide as he clutched his throat, blood spurting between his fingers, and collapsed backward.
"Retreat! Fall back!" Barton’s face went pale as he hastily ordered the shield wall to close ranks, covering the Mage as they beat a rapid retreat back to their side of the bridge.
The gray-robed Mage hadn’t even finished chanting a single spell before the attempt was thwarted once again.
Time was slipping away. The last glow of sunset was about to be swallowed by the distant mountains, and the sky was darkening at a visible rate.
If they didn’t cross the bridge tonight, the army would be forced to make camp on this side. But the terrain here was too narrow, offering no tactical depth, which was extremely disadvantageous for a large force.
"Damn it, all this dithering!" The scar-faced Craig’s patience had finally run out, his anger completely overwhelming his reason.
He glared at the female Holy Knight on the opposite bank, who stood tall and proud as if looking down on them with contempt. He glanced at the darkening sky, the muscles on his face twitching.
"Angus, my friend, I think you’ve lost your nerve," he said angrily. "That bitch, and those sneaky tricks in the woods—they’re obviously just stalling for time! The people in Lakefront Town are probably grabbing their valuables and getting ready to bolt right now. If we wait any longer, there won’t even be any scraps left for us!"
He ignored Angus and turned to roar at his own men. "Nineteenth Squad! Thirty-seventh Squad! Get your asses out here!"
At his call, about thirty men from the two squads slowly stepped forward. Fear and reluctance were plain on their faces; they clearly knew this was not going to be a pleasant task.
"See that bitch on the other side?" The scar-faced Craig pointed at Catherine, then at the birch forest. "Charge! Find out what we’re really dealing with. I’ll put you all in for top honors. Anyone who dares to fall back gets executed on the spot!"
With that, he drew his heavy axe with a sharp SHING, his entire being radiating killing intent.
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