How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 179: Satan’s Chariot (2)

BOOM!

The stockade was torn to shreds. The narrow moat dug in front of it was equally useless.

As if something had exploded, wood fragments flew in all directions, and people trembled, frightened, curled up, and covering their heads.

So.

The Spaniards, who were momentarily frightened, soon realized what had just happened. Cold sweat ran down their backs.

One side of the fortress had collapsed.

They had lost one absolute advantage of the defender.

In other words.

"Uwaaaah! Virginiaaaa!"

"For the Nameless One!"

From the attacker's perspective, it was the optimal moment to start the battle.

"E-everyone, grab your guns! I said grab your guns!"

The Spaniards, finally coming to their senses, hurriedly picked up the spears, knives, and guns they had abandoned and got to their feet.

Similarly, hundreds of Englishmen and natives rushing madly from afar also loaded their muskets and crossbows while shouting slogans.

"Long live Felipe! Long live Habsburg!"

"In-in the name of the Lord! So that we may sweep away th-those pagans, heretics...!"

The Spaniards didn't back down either.

They were battle-hardened soldiers of the New World. Though they had momentarily panicked, they quickly recovered, loading bullets with trembling hands and lighting fuses with flints.

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Muskets spewed fire from outside the range. No one was hurt. Thus, hundreds of people, about 1 kilometer apart, were preparing to kill each other.

Step.

And.

At the small sound that was heard, all the Spaniards turned their heads in astonishment.

From inside the 'monster' that had torn through the fortress wall and was embedded there, scattering sand and soil everywhere...

Someone carefully walked out.

A man emerged from the distorted innards of the monster.

He looked surprisingly fine, as if it was hard to believe he had been riding inside that monster.

==

Lucas Pastor barely controlled his trembling body as he picked up his hat that had fallen to the ground. He instinctively took his eyes off the Englishmen rushing beyond that collapsed wall.

Instead, he turned his head toward where acrid smoke and a piercing smell rose.

And he raised his spear tip toward him.

Imagine a wooden building standing perfectly intact in the middle of a city on fire.

Recall a precarious stone tower that is the only one not collapsed in a world hit by an earthquake.

Look at wool that sits alone, not wet, when all the land is raining and soaked with water.

As a human being, one feels two emotions in such unnaturalness.

Lucas felt one of them.

Bizarreness.

A person with three eyes, a deer with ten horns, a dog wagging a snake-like tail.

And a person who is still uninjured and intact despite hitting the fortress with all his might.

Beings that make people shudder just by imagining them, making them realize something is wrong.

Such beings are not usually seen in ordinary people's daily lives. They only appear briefly in a midsummer night's nightmare or fleeting fantasy before scattering.

That's why Lucas unconsciously blinked. As if the being his spear tip was pointing at might scatter like a daydream.

But it wasn't so.

He was smiling at him. Even that seemingly warm smile made his skin crawl.

A being fundamentally different from me stands there, taking a form similar to mine.

Fearful.

Being overwhelmed.

I become small before him.

I become insignificant before him.

Before him, I, I...

He could feel that such emotions were being shared not just by him but by everyone else. He felt it so intensely that his skin stung.

And the sense of duty felt there barely raised his body and opened his eyes.

...A sense of duty to kill.

A sense of duty to kill the being in front of him, to kill that being absolutely different from himself, to banish it from this world.

"Ugh, uuugh..."

But his trembling hands wouldn't budge. No matter how endlessly he cursed inside, how endlessly he swallowed tears, and how much strength he put into his hands, they only trembled and wouldn't move an inch.

Toward him, the man walked.

Step.

"D-don't..."

Step.

"Don't... come..."

Step.

And the man smiles.

Finally, fear devoured all reason and will, bringing him to his knees. All of Lucas's struggles, all his shouts, all his screams were consumed by his sobbing.

Hundreds of people surrounded him. Yet none of them moved to save or help him.

Everyone was frozen with the world.

From far away, the sound of Englishmen and natives walking could be heard. The man gestured toward them to stop.

Behind his back, the smell of terrible things burning still crept up. Distorted metals shriveled like the skin of a dead demon.

"...You fear that."

Tienes miedo de eso... You're afrai...

Vaguely, strange sounds were heard, but his hearing seemed paralyzed and wasn't working properly. His whole body was trembling.

And, as he snapped his fingers.

Swish.

Behind him, that metal monster melted away.

That bizarrely distorted monster, that metal object that had been emitting smoke...

Slowly...

What couldn't melt was melting.

Like a pile of snow in the sun quietly vaporizing and disappearing.

Just, like that, it was disappearing.

After everything disappeared, only the mark of blackened ashes remained.

"Wh-who... what on earth... are you..."

Lucas squeezed out the words, and.

The man answered briefly.

"Fear not."

Only then did his ears open.

No temáis.

Não temais.

Nolite timere.

Fear thou not.

Ne craignez point.

...

...

...

Thus, that phrase repeated over hundreds of times in holy scriptures.

That command echoing endlessly from an angel's tongue.

That command came to him as it came to Hagar, to Mary, to Joseph, to Zechariah.

Lucas could not obey that command.

He was afraid.