As the arrows fired by the humans reached the velmoryns, a crimson barrier intercepted them, their shafts striking the scarlet surface and dropping harmlessly to the ground.
The momentary confusion caused by the No-Magic Zone did not last long. Mirion’s roar proved enough to snap the mages out of their shock, and they quickly cast protective barriers. More followed, layer after layer, until several different shields stood between the velmoryns and the enemy.
Until now, I had not realized that the velmoryns could not create a single barrier capable of protecting them from every type of damage. Some seemed to stop only physical attacks, while others blocked magic, and there might have been even more types I had yet to notice.
When the humans saw that the velmoryns had no intention of charging, and that Mirion had instead ordered the archers to continue firing, they changed their tactics as well. It must have become clear that my army held an overwhelming advantage at a distance, so their frontliners began advancing.
Slowly, step by step, the shield wall moved toward my army.
“Now?” Dariel asked, his voice guttural as the beast within him began to stir.
“Not yet,” Mirion answered.
He glanced back at Lily, who had already formed a giant green diagram.
“Tell me when they are within range of your spell.”
The veteran mage nodded as she began shaping another diagram, this one crimson.
Even if my mages could not attack the humans directly while they remained inside the No-Magic Zone, they could still cast spells from outside it. The human mages and priests, on the other hand, stood uselessly within the affected area, hiding behind trees as they couldn’t even form barriers to protect themselves from the arrows.
Arrows continued pouring down on both the frontliners and the soldiers in the rear. Their archers were also within range, and since no one had ordered them to stop firing or retreat, they quickly became the easiest targets.
Soon, one after another, the archers began abandoning their positions and fleeing into the forest.
What the fuck is happening?
I watched, completely stunned by how incompetent the humans were. Granted, I had no idea how to wage war myself, and it was Mirion’s tactics that had given my army such an overwhelming advantage, but even I felt I could have led the humans better.
By the time the frontliners had crossed half the distance toward my army, their archers had stopped firing entirely. Some had already exhausted their pitiful supply of ten arrows, but most had simply run away.
This army consisted mainly of volunteers and mercenaries. They were not trained warriors willing to sacrifice their lives without hesitation.
And it showed.
The frontliners, completely unaware of what was happening behind them, also slowed when Mirion gave the order for the velmoryns to advance.
Nearly three hundred battle-hardened warriors, the weakest among them Bronze Ranks, charged with a deafening roar. Seeing how badly the battle had turned in their favor had strengthened their morale even further, adding to the fierce resolve of those defending their own home.
Their families waited behind them.
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The humans might have been fighting for their god, for coin, or perhaps even for glory, but the velmoryns were fighting for their homes, their families, and everything they held dear.
Dariel reached the humans first, transforming fully in midair before crashing into the shield wall, his beastlike body nearly twice the size of the men before him. Several weapons pierced his flesh on impact, but the green sheen covering his body mended the wounds faster than the humans could inflict new ones.
In return, every swing of his arms tore through their formation. Limbs were ripped away, heads sent rolling, and deep wounds opened across anyone unfortunate enough to stand within his reach.
Mirion and the others joined him moments later, and it quickly became clear that no tactic could bridge the difference in strength between the two forces. Even the weakest velmoryn in my army was stronger than the best and bravest human among them.
Mirion had already cleared the area around himself, his axe cleaving through armor and flesh alike. Human blood covered his body, painting his gray skin and armor red.
No one dared approach him, so the veteran velmoryn went to them instead. The moment he chose a target, his axe swept through them like the scythe of a grim reaper.
Within a single minute, the human frontline had lost half its number. Once the first rows collapsed, many of those behind them turned and fled.
At the same time, Lyle’s force reached the backline.
They charged without hesitation, twin blades glinting as they slaughtered the defenseless mages and fleeing archers standing between them and the priests.
Lyle was the fiercest among them, her blades moving faster than anyone else’s and her charge seemingly impossible to stop.
She ignored the mages and archers, leaving them to the hundred warriors following behind her. Her only goal was to reach the priests as quickly as possible.
Then a crimson blur flashed beside her.
Lucas.
He had come to finish what he had started.
His attention settled on the priest standing behind the others, the man’s face concealed beneath a hood. Guided by fear, the remaining priests pulled out various artifacts, but none of them activated. The No-Magic Zone they had created appeared to restrict their own artifacts as well.
Lucas, on the other hand, had no difficulty using his mana. Apparently, the zone prevented spells from taking shape, but mana could still be used to augment the body.
He cut down the priests one after another, effortlessly making his way toward his main target. But the others slowed him just enough for Lyle to reach the man first.
She leapt and landed gracefully beside the priest, not even bothering to approach from his blind spot. Her right blade swept downward in a diagonal arc, cutting from his chest toward his waist, then immediately reversed direction and carved its way back upward.
Two deep wounds opened across the man’s body.
The priest did not even try to resist.
The force of Lyle’s strikes knocked the hood from his head, revealing an old, wrinkled face twisted into a smile.
A smile of victory.
[Warning: Your Inquisitor has slain an Inquisitor of another god!][Warning: You’ve gained 100 Divinity Points!]
As the two notifications flashed before me, the man’s body struck the ground. The blood had barely begun to pool beneath him when the corpse ignited.
Emerald flames erupted from his body, rising high enough to lick the tips of Lyle’s blades.
Her confidence vanished, confusion spreading across her face as she retreated in several quick, short leaps.
She did not understand what was happening, or how a dead man could release such power.
But I did.
Unlike her, I finally understood what all of this had been about. Why an army so weak that only a few of my strongest believers could have wiped it out had dared to enter my forest.
A crimson notification hovered before me, ominous in every possible way.
[Warning!]
By slaying another god's last Inquisitor, you have lifted the restrictions imposed by the Pantheon.
Minimum requirement fulfilled: 500 souls sacrificed.
The God of Beggars may now descend into the mortal realm and wield their full divine power without Pantheon intervention. Their presence may be maintained for 15 minutes.
Should the God of Beggars perish within the mortal realm during this period, the Pantheon will not intervene.