Chapter 412: Picking Off A Bullet

When Aelwen was transported away in the temple, due to the distance, the [Spirit Link] naturally broke, making the elves think that Aelwen had truly died.

Though there was no corpse visible, the strike had been so fast that it could have instantly vaporised someone. None of the elves paid attention to the debris to look out for her.

Thus came Naelith’s anger—and her supercharged attack.

Dhalia naturally understood the danger behind the arrows. In the next moment, her Shellbeast stomped its forelimbs and formed a large, jagged ice spike in front of it to act as a shield. But the others were spread across a wide area and were not lucky enough to be under its cover.

THRRAAAAAAASH—FWOOM!!

The three arrows struck the ice spike and burst into raging flames, expanding outward like a wave and covering the area behind it in a blazing blanket of fire.

"What in the world—?!" Dhalia gasped, completely bewildered, as she was forced to reinforce the Shellbeast’s ice with her own power.

"AAHHH—"

"NOO—"

"SSSKKKRRAA—"

Many screams—beasts and humans alike—were cut mid-sentence as they were teleported away after taking fatal fire damage.

"When did they acquire fire-related skills?! And when did they learn to use arrows?!" Dhalia kept reinforcing the ice spikes in front of her as they melted at a terrifying speed, steam hissing into the air. If she faltered even for a moment, the 20 to 30 people who were still unharmed would be exposed—and judging by the intensity of the flames, even she would likely be injured.

But she didn’t even get time to breathe after the fire wave died down before another set of arrows was already on its way.

"Ahhh, fuck!" Dhalia cursed. She had no chance to defend against a second attack of similar magnitude, so the group scattered to dodge.

Big mistake.

They began getting picked off one by one—arrows that didn’t miss their targets even once.

"Did they hire professional archers to defend their territory? How did they get that much money?!" Dhalia snarled. The power behind each arrow was undoubtedly in the 4-star realm. Hiring even one such archer would cost hundreds of gold coins.

"Naelith! Calm down and get back to your position!" Lily shouted as she descended from the sky, her voice sharp enough to cut through the chaos. Naelith snapped out of her rage, though the suppressed grief in her eyes was still evident.

"And don’t be like that—Aelwen isn’t dead. She’ll be back soon!"

At her words, the elves paused momentarily, disbelief filling their eyes as they looked at her charging toward Dhalia. Sylrael, who had been spiralling deeper into her thoughts, suddenly felt a spark of hope ignite within her.

"I-If Sister says so, then it’s true! Aelwen will be back. Let’s focus on defending the territory!" Sylrael’s voice trembled with unspoken emotion as she knocked another arrow and fired at the enemy—without even realising she wasn’t supposed to attack yet.

Hearing Lily’s words, Naelith felt a wave of relief. Everything Lily had said until now had proven true—their treatment, their living conditions and safety. So if she said Aelwen was alive, then she was alive. Naelith immediately ceased her rampant assault and returned to her position to assist where needed.

Only then did she realise how many areas were already being overwhelmed, on the verge of collapse.

"Aina! Get that pyromancer! He’ll burn the watchtower!" Sylva shouted, pointing out a man hurling fireballs wildly across the battlefield.

Bang!

In the distance, Virat fired a precise shot straight at the pyromancer’s head. In the next instant, the man vanished.

Though the pyromancer appeared to be a Mid 2-star mage, only his intelligence and agility were at that level. His physical durability was still in the 1-star range, making the bullet devastatingly effective. Not to mention, a Desert Eagle round would still kill a proper Mid 2-star because of enhanced features.

Bang!

Another wind elemental mage fell—this time a girl.

"This motherfucker!" Ronan roared, rage flaring as his men dropped to what he considered measly firearms. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Apparently, it was Ronan leading the northern front. With his straightforward, brute-force approach, he had managed to overpower the watchtower’s defenses and push into the territory’s range. But 10 meters back—Aina, Sylva, and Virat stood firm, holding the line.

As for why they had been overpowered—it was because the elf in the watchtower was a Mid 3-star, and Ronan’s Moltenbrand Sentinel, now a Low 3-star beast, absorbed her wood-based attacks effectively.

Ronan drew his sword and lunged forward, targeting Virat—the biggest headache on the field, whose near-perfect accuracy had already one-shot more than 10 of his men.

"Virat! Hold Sir Ronan back—meanwhile, we’ll deal with the others!" Sylva said, drawing her dagger as she engaged a swordsman who had tried to sneak up on her. The elf in the watchtower was still occupied with the beasts, but it was clear they were being pushed back.

Twip! Zing!

Virat fired a grappling hook and launched himself upward, narrowly avoiding Ronan’s downward slash.

"Get over here!" Ronan bellowed, thrusting his palm toward the airborne Virat.

Flames erupted from his hand, surging forward in a blazing stream. But Virat had already aimed his heavy crossbow at him.

Twik!

He fired the metallic bolt straight into the incoming flames. It held for a brief moment—just enough to disrupt the concentrated fire and give Virat time to reposition—but the bolt melted midway under the heat.

Now Ronan had a clear line of attack.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Klang! Klang!

"Ack!"

Ronan managed to deflect two bullets with his sword, sparks flying on impact—but the third struck him squarely in the right side of his chest.

He staggered back a few steps, then looked down.

Since he hadn’t wanted to risk damaging his expensive armor in a mere territory bounty raid, he had worn a cheaper set. The bullet had pierced through it and struck his flesh.

But the funny thing—

"Dang... this thing hurts..." Ronan muttered, calmly gripping the lodged bullet between his fingers and picking it out of his chest. It had barely penetrated half an inch.