Chapter 305: The Sword Saint of Scali
The Sword Saint of Scali, Henry, felt a blow to his side and then heard the sound of metal grinding.
It was the armor; the runic armor forged by dwarves protected him.
“Hard!”
The ratman assassin continued to press in close, one hand grasping the shoulder of Sword Saint Henry, while its tail coiled around a green-bladed dagger, thrusting towards Sword Saint Henry’s neck.
Confused and unsure of what was happening, Sword Saint Henry instinctively turned his head with a blank expression.
The ratman assassin was initially startled; he had never seen such a calm human before. At that moment, he suddenly realized that the human before him was wielding a giant sword, and his mind was drawn to the image of the flute player who also carried a giant sword.
This association acted like a fuse, causing various rumors about the flute player to explode in his mind, filling it with unvoiced thoughts; the image of the giant sword-wielding flute player overlapped with that of Sword Saint Henry.
The ratman assassin immediately abandoned its assassination attempt, pushing off with its feet to distance itself from Sword Saint Henry. It planned to create space and let the other ratman assassins handle it.
Sword Saint Henry, seeing the hand and tail of the ratman assassin holding three daggers, was startled but quickly gripped his giant sword and swung it in a circle.
The second ratman assassin, leaping through the air, met Sword Saint Henry’s giant sword directly and had its head severed.
The remaining two ratman assassins froze in shock and blurted out:
“It’s him!”
In the darkness, the only one who could chop off rat heads so decisively was the legendary flute player!
Sword Saint Henry still hadn’t grasped the situation and had no idea what the ratmen were shouting. He was adept at swordsmanship and, as a reflex, instinctively thrust towards a nearby ratman assassin, killing it instantly.
Now, among the three ratman assassins who had already killed all the sentinels, only one remained.
This ratman was so terrified that it nearly split with fright, leaping back, crawling on all fours, and even dropping the green dagger in its hand as it screamed and fled, disappearing into the darkness.
Sword Saint Henry watched, confused, and muttered to himself, “What just happened?”
Even he, however dim, realized they were under attack. He raised his sword cautiously, discovering that all the sentinels were dead, and hurriedly turned back to call everyone to get up and grab their weapons. The disoriented imperial soldiers subconsciously looked to Sword Saint Henry as their leader.
“Commander Henry, everyone is ready. What should we do?”
The imperial soldiers donned their armor and lifted their shields, looking to Sword Saint Henry for orders.
Sword Saint Henry had no idea what to do or how to respond.
Fortunately, his Sharrel helmet had a faceplate, which he pulled down to obscure his bewildered expression. In any case, they should first get out of the door.
Thus, Sword Saint Henry stepped outside.
“Follow Commander Henry!”
Everyone followed Sword Saint Henry out.
Once outside, the sky was filled with blazing flames, illuminating the window and showcasing Sword Saint Henry’s helmet, blood-stained blade, and two corpses lying in the street.
The soldiers stood in solemn respect; in their eyes, Sword Saint Henry had suddenly become “a battle-hardened warrior who, even after being ambushed, was still thinking of fighting back.”
Meanwhile, Sword Saint Henry gazed at the towering inferno in the distance, the strange “tat tat tat” sound, and the strange green lines flying across the night sky that accompanied the odd noises.
It sounded terrifying; he had no idea what kind of sorcery it was, so he thought it best to hurry to the docks to escape.
Sword Saint Henry turned back, hesitating to say “run,” instead saying, “Brothers! Follow me and charge! Quickly.” Otherwise, there might not be room for us on the ship.
More than thirty imperial soldiers shouted, “Yes!”
Sword Saint Henry charged forward, heading in the direction he remembered the docks to be.
On the way, they encountered a multitude of ratmen. Some were clad in rusty armor, making hurried and repetitive strange noises. There were so many of them that they surged forward, colliding with the imperial soldiers’ shield wall.
Sword Saint Henry swung his giant sword, clearing a path ahead. Mysteriously, each time he decapitated a ratman, the nearby ratmen would jump in fright, incessantly shouting strange names.
Perhaps these odd beastmen were afraid of being beheaded.
With this thought in mind, Sword Saint Henry endeavored to sever the heads of those ratmen who hunched over.
It was highly effective; the ratmen receded like waves. More came, flooding the street like muddy water from the dark corners.
Not one to hesitate, Sword Saint Henry persisted, and he, along with his comrades, continued chopping off the heads of the fallen ratmen until they formed a small pile. As the muddy river of ratmen surged forth, they saw Sword Saint Henry tie a ratman head to his waist, with a large pile of ratman heads by his feet.
In an instant, the ratman tide halted. The ratmen pushed and shoved each other, desperate for others to lead the charge.
Seeing the overwhelming numbers of ratmen filling the entire street and nearly crowding the rooftops, there had to be at least thousands, no, tens of thousands!
Fear had stripped him of his ability to count, and Sword Saint Henry was so startled that his legs nearly buckled.
After regaining some semblance of rationality, he was overwhelmed by the sea of ratmen on both sides, unsure of what to do.
Driven by terror, he raised his hand and shouted, “Kill!”
After shouting, he charged toward the pile of ratmen before him. He knew that beastmen liked to eat humans, and it was better to risk his life than be devoured.
His silhouette, illuminated by the flames, inspired the originally panicky soldiers. The imperial soldiers raised their shields and lifted their long swords, shouting:
“For the Empire! For the Emperor!”
A swarm of soldiers followed Sword Saint Henry closely.
Sword Saint Henry plunged into the sea of ratmen, where numerous knives and spears aimed at him. He swung his giant sword frantically, slicing as he went, and then an incredible scene unfolded: the ratmen who surrounded him unexpectedly scattered. Before him, injured ratmen crawled on their hands and knees, weeping and desperately trying to flee.
Is this it?
Sword Saint Henry found it hard to believe that such a timid species had emerged from the beastmen.
What he didn’t know was that, first, the succubus who had tormented him all day had successfully planted rumors in the hearts of the ratmen. Secondly, ratmen were inherently timid and extremely fast when fleeing.
After dispersing the ratmen, Sword Saint Henry felt a sharp pain in his calf and also in his fingers. He could not help but lean on his sword, and when he touched his fingers down, they were bloodied.
He was injured, but luckily, they were close to the dock where they could escape. I am so fortunate.
Sword Saint Henry relaxed.
The imperial soldiers behind him stepped forward, supporting him on either side, speaking in a tone of reverence:
“Imperial hero! Thanks to you, that damned horde of ratmen has been wiped out. Are you alright?”
“I can still stand.” Sword Saint Henry brushed the imperial soldiers aside, straightened himself, and lied, “This is nothing compared to the injuries I sustained at the Obsidian Pass.”
The imperial soldiers were moved and said, “We will follow you to save this city.”
Save the city?
Sword Saint Henry was just about to refuse when a bloodied rider approached, followed by some imperial soldiers. The rider shouted, “Thank the heavens, reinforcements have finally arrived! We must run; there are ratmen everywhere!”
“Coward! We came to save the city,” the imperial soldiers yelled. “Look at these ratmen; they’re a bunch of timid rats, not worth a blow.”
“Aren’t you here at the general’s orders to provide support?”
“The general? He’s hiding at the docks; no one has seen him.”
Sword Saint Henry felt his mind become foggy and asked, “Isn’t this the dock? Where is the dock?”
“It’s behind us,” the imperial soldier replied in confusion. “Didn’t you lead us to confront the ratmen?”
Oh no, we took the wrong path.
Sword Saint Henry abruptly turned around to see a raging fire towards the dock, realizing the situation was dire. He quickly climbed up to get a better look.
The ships intended for evacuation were burning, illuminating the river, and chaos reigned at the dock.
Sword Saint Henry’s heart sank; he turned to say, “You’re right, we must reclaim our city.”
…
…
Jenna suddenly opened her eyes to see the white tent above her.
Beside her, Jima’s voice said, “You woke up just in time.”
Jenna tried to sit up but found that her limbs were tightly bound, covered by a thin blanket. She was completely naked and felt a dull ache in her chest.
“Jima?”
“It’s me.” Jima was nearby, wiping the bright axe blade.
Seeing her own clothes piled to the side, Jenna asked, “Why did you take off my clothes?”
“To check for signs of corruption on your body. I bound your arms and legs so you wouldn’t attack everyone in case you fell,” Jima said, her young face showing a look of weariness. “This is experience gained at the cost of blood.”
Having watched more than twenty zombie films, Jima said this.
“Then am I alright?”
“Show me your divine magic.”
“Can you untie my hands?” When Jenna moved her hands, she felt several ropes restraining her in sensitive areas. “Also, why does this binding seem so… inappropriate?”
“I’m just a succubus; the only binding techniques I know are those.” Jima said. “Besides, I won’t untie you until your test is complete.”
Jima then took up a parchment with standard testing instructions and said, “Quickly, cast the divine magic.”
Jenna obediently began her test.
“Better than I expected.” Jima cut the ropes from Jenna’s wrists. “Did you gain the cure for the Black Death?”
Jenna nodded and looked down at the red marks, asking, “Why do I have red marks on my body?”
“Oh, it’s because your body changed during the struggle against the filth…” Jima shook her head as if recalling something terrible. “I had to check your body to see if it was corrupted. After all, you know that the followers of filth can use divine magic to disguise themselves as healthy people. Just in case, I was very diligent in my investigation.”
Jenna smiled gratefully, “Thank you, Jima.”
Jima replied, “No problem.”
After watching Jenna get dressed, she said, “I have to go do something.”
“What’s that?”
“Ratmen.”
Jenna suddenly remembered something and asked, “Is the Black Death spread by ratmen?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know this all along?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“If Oligrand City’s defenses weren’t so weak, how would the timid ratmen come out?” Jima turned back, saying, “So how will we resolve this?”
