Chapter 207: Failed Assassination Attempt
The battle dragged on for nearly an hour. The desert outside Senkeht had transformed completely. Blood soaked the sand in dark patches. Broken arrows littered the ground. Beast corpses piled against the stone barricades while the air itself carried the smell of fire, dust, and death.
Yet the warriors of Senkeht held firm. Not once had the line broken. Not once had panic overtaken them. Even the wounded continued fighting, retreating only when physically dragged back by others. The synchronization was frightening to watch.
A sand wolf leapt toward the wall.
THUNK!
Three arrows pierced its skull simultaneously. A desert cat slipped through a gap.
SHING!
A swordsman severed its forelimbs while a spearman behind him pierced its throat without hesitation. Everything flowed together perfectly. But exhaustion had begun setting in. Even Bahamut could see it. The warriors’ breathing had grown heavier, their movements had turned slightly slower. The elementalists, especially, were beginning to strain from prolonged mana usage. Sweat soaked through their robes. Their hands trembled. And the beasts noticed. The wolves became more aggressive. The desert cats began targeting isolated fighters. Even the hawks started diving lower now, sensing weakness.
"They’re testing the defenses," Sel muttered quietly.
"Like soldiers..."
"They are soldiers," Gabi answered grimly.
A massive sand wolf suddenly burst through one of the stone choke points after tanking several spear strikes. It slammed into the defensive line like a battering ram.
BOOOOM!
Three warriors were thrown backward instantly. The formation cracked, and the beasts reacted immediately. The wolves surged forward with frenzied snarls while the desert cats slipped through the widening opening.
"Seal the breach!" Forta roared.
But before the reserve line could move, a young warrior was tackled to the ground. His spear flew from his grasp. The wolf above him opened its jaws wide. The young man froze, death reflecting in his eyes.
CRACK!
A stone spear erupted through the wolf’s skull from below, and the beast collapsed instantly. The young warrior looked up shakily. One of the older earth elementalists stood nearby, breathing heavily with one hand pressed against the ground.
"Get up," he growled. "Or die."
The boy scrambled back to his feet immediately.
The breach was sealed again moments later, but the pressure only continued increasing. More beasts appeared atop the dunes, more howls echoed across the desert, and for the first time, even Forta’s expression darkened beneath his black robes.
"This is too many..."
Bahamut heard him whisper it. Then it happened.
ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!!!
The roar exploded across the desert like divine judgment. Everything stopped instantly. The charging wolves halted mid-run. The desert cats froze. The hawks circling overhead faltered violently in the air. The sound carried overwhelming authority. Absolute command.
Silence followed. An eerie, unnatural silence. The beasts slowly turned their heads toward the distant eastern dunes. Then, one by one, they began retreating. The wolves backed away first, slowly, and reluctantly, their eyes never leaving the walls.
Then the desert cats vanished into the sands with fluid movements. The hawks screeched sharply before ascending higher into the sky and flying eastward. Within minutes, the battlefield emptied, leaving only corpses and stunned silence behind.
No one cheered. No one celebrated. Because everyone understood what they had just witnessed. The beasts had not retreated from fear. They had obeyed an order. A cold breeze swept through the battlefield as the warriors stared toward the distant dunes. Even Bahamut felt it clearly now.
The intelligence behind this was undeniable. No ordinary beast coordinated attacks like this. No mindless monster commanded an organized retreat. And no creature capable of controlling hundreds of beasts would ever stop after a single failed assault.
Forta slowly stepped forward atop the wall. His black robes fluttered in the desert wind as he looked toward the horizon. He spoke quietly, yet everyone heard him.
"It’s learning."
Those three words sent a chill through them.
...
The atmosphere in Senkeht had changed after the first wave. The fear remained, but now, it was mixed with hope. The warriors had won. They hadn’t won perfectly or without injuries. Several men and women now rested under the care of healers, while the dead had already begun their journey toward the burial fires outside the western edge of town. Still...
The town stood.
Children had started peeking outside again. Merchants reopened small stalls along the inner streets. The people still looked tense whenever the desert wind howled too loudly, but at least now there was movement. Life.
Even the warriors atop the walls looked steadier. The first wave had proven something important. The beasts could bleed. Large braziers burned throughout the town as preparations began for the inevitable second attack. Smiths hammered weapons relentlessly while elementalists reinforced walls with layers of hardened sandstone.
Archers prepared fresh arrows. Scouts rotated in and out. Orders echoed constantly. Senkeht had become a living fortress. But Bahamut needed air. The noise, the tension, the constant anticipation of violence... It all sat strangely with him. So he walked.
The streets of Senkeht were narrower than he initially thought. Tall sandstone buildings cast long shadows against the setting sun while cloth canopies stretched between rooftops to protect from the desert heat. The air smelled of spice, ash, sweat, and hot sand.
Bahamut walked slowly through the streets, his white robes swaying lightly with each step. His blindfold shifted gently in the wind while his short hair danced faintly. He ignored the stares he was receiving. His thoughts were elsewhere. He turned into a quieter part of town. The sounds of the crowd faded behind him. Only the wind remained now.
And then... His instincts screamed. Every muscle in his body tightened instantly as a sharp chill shot down his spine. Killing intent. Bahamut moved.
BOOM!
The wall beside him exploded violently. Stone fragments scattered across the street as something pierced through where his head had been less than a second earlier.
An arrow.
No.
A spear-shaped projectile made entirely of compressed earth mana. It had embedded itself deep into the opposite wall, vibrating with enough force to crack the entire structure around it. Bahamut’s eyes widened beneath the blindfold. That was fast. Ridiculously fast. Had he reacted a fraction later, his head would have exploded.
Silence returned immediately afterward. No second attack came. He slowly turned his head, trying to sense around him, but whoever attacked him was gone. Or perhaps they had never intended to remain. The street around him was empty now. A few civilians in the distance screamed and ran after hearing the explosion, but Bahamut ignored them.
His breathing slowed as he controlled it. Yet his body remained tense. Because he knew something important now. Someone in this town wanted him dead. He stepped toward the projectile embedded in the wall. His fingers brushed against it lightly.
Bahamut’s expression darkened. He replayed the moment repeatedly in his head. The killing intent had appeared first, before the attack.
Far away atop the great wall, hidden behind sandstone battlements, Tunik lowered his hand slowly. His face remained expressionless, but inwardly... He was shocked.
"He dodged..." That strike should have killed a normal Tier 2 instantly. And the most terrifying part? The blind boy reacted before the projectile even launched. Tunik’s eyes narrowed.
"Interesting..." The hatred remained, but now something else mixed into it. Curiosity and caution.
Below, Bahamut slowly lifted his head toward the walls in the distance. Though he couldn’t see Tunik, for a brief moment, their instincts met across the town.
Predator meeting predator. Then the feeling vanished completely, leaving Bahamut standing alone in the damaged street beneath the crimson desert sunset.
He smiled.
