Chapter 46: Battle

“Wh-why are there so many of them?” Land’s voice quivered as he spoke.

Rowling and Monlier, too, stared in shock at the horde of over a hundred bristling, spine-covered, blue-black Bramble Beasts that had appeared not far from them. It was their first time venturing into the Maya Mountains. Though Bob had given them a thorough briefing about the creatures inhabiting these woods before they set out, seeing such a vast throng of magical beasts with their own eyes sent a wave of unease through their hearts.

Captain Bob, at least, remained steady. He lowered his voice, “Prepare for battle, everyone. Rowling, get ready with your area-of-effect spells. Monlier, guard him. Land, you and I will hold the front and block the Bramble Beasts!” With a few short words, he assigned their roles—demonstrating the value of an experienced captain.

Though these Bramble Beasts were only classified as Level Two magical beasts, their sheer numbers left even Bob, a Level Four Warrior, feeling uncertain. Relying on his experience, he divided their tasks, pooling their strengths to boost their chances of survival.

“Understood!” the other three replied in unison, then hurried to their positions.

Bob and Land drew their weapons and charged at the oncoming wave of Bramble Beasts. Monlier unsheathed the sword strapped to his back and stepped in front of Rowling, saying quietly, “Rowling, just focus on your magic. Any Bramble Beasts that come for you, I’ll stop them.”

“Alright,” Rowling replied. In a flash, a staff appeared in his hand, its tip glowing with magical light, and he began chanting an incantation with undivided focus.

This staff was the very one Rowling had purchased from Cervantes’ Alchemy Shop during his trip to the Imperial Capital a year ago. Its conductivity rate was 60%, allowing him to conserve ten percent of his magical and mental energy. In a perilous place like this, even a single percent could mean the difference between victory and defeat. Without hesitation, Rowling summoned the staff from the Necromancer’s Space, channeling his spirit and magic through it.

Clang! Slash! Bob and Land swung their weapons in wide arcs, cutting down the Bramble Beasts before them. Bob wielded a broad-backed greatsword, and wherever his blade fell, Bramble Beasts were grievously wounded or even sliced clean in two. Gouts of greenish magical beast blood spurted forth wherever his blade passed.

Land, however, was far slower than Bob. He did his best to fend off the beasts with his short sword, but with so many pressing in, he could only hope to hold them back. Before long, three or four Bramble Beasts slipped past his defenses.

They howled as they lunged straight for Rowling and Monlier, who stood behind the line. Monlier, stationed in front of Rowling, reacted instantly, raising his sword to block the onrushing brutes. Slash, slash—the blade bit twice, finally felling one of the magical beasts. Just as he turned to face the next pair, he caught, out of the corner of his eye, four or five more breaking through on Land’s side.

“Damn it, Land, are you a sieve? How could you let so many through?” Monlier cursed, swinging his sword with even greater urgency.

“If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you try it yourself? There are so many of them up here—how am I supposed to hold them all?” Land shot back, bristling with indignation.

“Both of you, shut up! This is not the time for bickering—focus on killing the beasts!” Bob bellowed. At his command, Land and Monlier fell silent.

Monlier struggled to hold back the five or six Bramble Beasts surging toward him. With a swift slash, he aimed for one—but the creature ducked low, slipping under his blade. Monlier’s heart lurched with alarm: behind him stood Rowling, deep in spellcasting. If anything happened to their mage, their entire strategy would collapse.

Just as Monlier prepared to whirl around and intercept the beast, the ones before him suddenly pressed their attack even harder, leaving him no room to maneuver. “Rowling, watch out!” he shouted in warning.

The Bramble Beast that had broken through sprang straight for Rowling, its wicked spines gleaming blue-black beneath the faint moonlight.

But just as it was about to strike the spellcasting wizard, a fist-sized gray object suddenly appeared between them—smack! The charging beast was abruptly stopped by this unexpected barrier.

The Bramble Beast tumbled to the ground, its glowing green eyes filled with suspicion as it regarded the thing that had blocked its way. The gray “fist” was attached to a black “pillar,” which in turn led up to a dark body. Only then did it see clearly: the obstacle was a black donkey.

At that moment, Little Black was performing an acrobatic maneuver, one foreleg lifted high to block the Bramble Beast’s attack.

Surprisingly, this seemingly juvenile donkey possessed the formidable strength of a Level Four creature.

Seeing its move had worked, the donkey raised its head in pride, baring its teeth. Then, fixing the spiny brute with an angry glare for daring to threaten its master, it sprang forward with lightning speed. Both forelegs landed squarely on the Bramble Beast’s back, and then, with astonishing agility, the donkey began to alternate its hooves in a rapid stomping motion.

The spines on the beast’s back shattered under the force of those iron-hard hooves. In moments, its tough shell cracked open with a bang, spraying pale green blood across the ground. The stench that rose from the fluid was so foul it made one retch.

At the front, as if sensing that Land’s position was the weakest, suddenly dozens of Bramble Beasts surged toward him, launching a fierce assault. Caught off guard, Land’s arm was raked by the spines on a leaping beast’s back, leaving a long, bleeding gash.

“Aaah!” Land cried out in pain, nearly losing his grip on his short sword. In that moment, more than a dozen Bramble Beasts broke through the line.

Boom! Just as that group of beasts burst past Land, more than a dozen sharp bone spikes, each half a meter long, erupted from the ground beneath them, piercing the soft underbellies where their defenses were weakest and impaling them instantly. Every last one of them was slain in a heartbeat.

Rowling had unleashed a Level Three Necromancer spell—Bone Spike Array!

His fire magic also included area-of-effect spells, but against these heavily armored Bramble Beasts, necromancy’s Bone Spike Array was clearly the better choice.

Such was the power of area-of-effect magic: in an instant, fifteen or sixteen Bramble Beasts were slain, whereas even the most skilled warriors like Bob would be hard pressed to kill more than one or two at a time.

Seeing Rowling dispatch so many at once, Land’s spirits soared. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he brandished his short sword once more, blocking the magical beasts ahead.

Bob, stealing a glance at the results, was surprised as well. In his experience, a Level Three mage casting an area-of-effect spell would be lucky to take down seven or eight Bramble Beasts at once. He had not expected Rowling’s uncanny magic to slay over fifteen.

But when Bob caught sight of the staff in Rowling’s hands, his pupils narrowed. A strange expression flickered across his face, vanishing in an instant as he returned to hacking at the Bramble Beasts before him.

Rowling cast Bone Spike Array three more times, reducing the enemy’s numbers by nearly half. Just as the group began to feel hope stirring—ready to finish off the remaining beasts—a sudden, urgent screech rang out from within the Bramble Beast horde.

At that sharp cry, the remaining sixty or seventy Bramble Beasts abruptly ceased their assault and streamed back toward the source of the sound.

With the Bramble Beast horde retreating, the pressure on the party vanished. Yet instead of relief, Captain Bob’s face filled with alarm. He shouted, “No! Run!”