Savage Ascension: Starting with God-Tier Plunder Ability-Chapter 112: With Your Comrades’ Blood

Rowan waited for the coming battle. The Tracking Mercenary Group had to stay out of the fight, but still Rowan prepared. He believed in his bad luck.

'Incidents happened everywhere. It'll happen this time too.'

He didn't know what it'd be, but either way an opportunity would definitely come to Rowan. He'd experienced incidents since being in the village, and problems kept popping up on the way here too. He believed in that bad luck.

For ten days, Espin and Doren wore hoop rhinoceros leather armor and went out on patrol every time, forcibly training their stamina—now they looked pretty good. Since there were no levels like in games, you could raise skills to a certain line overwhelmingly in a short period.

'They'll be helpful.'

Rowan had come to trust and acknowledge the two. Because they accepted what he taught and put in effort. Espin had good sense, so even without working as hard as Doren, he was ahead.

Rowan had also taken out his bow from the leather soaked in waste oil ahead of time and made it into a longbow. After finishing battle preparations, he endlessly stretched his body to heat up. Warming up his body so he could move violently anytime.

Time kept flowing like that.

Rustle.

A mercenary with excessively black pupils took dried leaves from a leather pouch and put them in his mouth. Around his mouth were colorful bumpy things. The teeth showing when he chewed were all damaged.

Unpleasant stench poured out from his mouth.

The illegal merchant group numbered 26, and though they had no carts, they brought 15 warhorses. All the horses carried loads, so none of the mercenaries rode them.

The only one riding a horse while climbing the forest hill was First Disciple Ponaxus. The 25 mercenaries belonging to an unnamed mercenary group were Ponaxus's minions.

They were minions of a dark mage made with considerable effort. Secretly killing their families disguised as accidents, leaving them alone and addicting them with narcotic leaves, making them his servants.

'Black leaves increase capabilities as a werewolf and boost the effects of the black parchment.'

The black magic black leaves—dried leaves that looked dead black—also had narcotic components. Because their senses dulled, even while fighting they didn't transform into werewolves.

Unlike the half-wit Pandevus who struggled to control it with Mind of an Elf, one type of black parchment, Ponaxus solved it easily with drugs.

'Doesn't matter if combat power drops.'

Fights at the bottom didn't have many casualties. Because they feared death, everything was decided at the start. Ponaxus's minions, who didn't fear getting hurt and killed opponents, had been winning all along.

Rustle!

The mercenaries eating black leaves were expressionless. Feeling nothing, they didn't even chase away forest mosquitoes that stuck their long snouts into their forearms. Flies stuck to their oily skin from not washing, rubbing their hands together.

'That bastard Pandevus. He's having fun sitting on his ass, now he doesn't even come out to meet me. Damn bastard...'

Arriving at the base, Ponaxus took a brief rest. His legs didn't hurt from riding, but his butt did.

'Master relies only on me too much. I need to whip Pandevus harder to make him take on other work. At this rate, if Pandevus receives the dark magic transmission, he'll catch up right away.'

As first disciple, he might no longer be second disciple or even called a disciple anymore. Ponaxus opened his leather backpack. The backpack's opening showed teeth and gums inside like a demon's mouth. Cold air was felt from within.

He took out a piece of ice and put it in his mouth. Even if nights were chilly, daytime was midsummer itself. He took out another piece of ice and rubbed it all over his face.

"Ahh. Nice."

This was heaven. The Frost Demon backpack was something beyond Ponaxus's level to make. A gift from his master. Also his most cherished magic item.

After resting for about ten minutes while eating salty, spice-covered premium jerky, he moved on. The water-flowing valley quickly appeared.

At the valley entrance, guys dressed as bandits were gambling around a table.

'Those bastards.'

His nerves immediately got on edge. Thinking he should teach them a good lesson, his hands and feet itched for no reason. The pleasure of hitting living people—once you taste it, you unknowingly seek it again and eventually get addicted to that pleasure.

He couldn't avoid it either. Because he was originally that kind of person.

Then, a fire arrow shot up into the sky. The illegal merchant group didn't notice it. The intensely beating sunlight and the burning fire arrow—you wouldn't know unless you saw it being shot first.

Drawing a parabola, it stuck down behind the merchant group.

Whoosh!

'What's that sound?'

First Disciple Ponaxus turned his head. There he could see an arrow stuck in the dried grass burning.

Ponaxus quickly crouched and rolled up his cloak tight.

Tak-tak-tak!

Arrows mercilessly attacked them.

"Neighhhh!"

The warhorses screamed and reared up in pain. The loads on their backs fell. Large and small leather pouches, tied wooden cases hit the ground. Bleeding, the horses ran everywhere.

A mercenary holding a horse's reins got dragged along, then let go of the rope and hit his head on a tree. Without making a sound, the mercenary stopped moving.

"Urk."

The mercenaries protected their heads and were fully exposed to arrows. The arrow rain stopped quickly. The time for 100 soldiers to shoot all 1,200 arrows wasn't long at all. Just 12 arrows per person. Unlike archery athletes who shot arrows to hit targets, this was soldiers' way of shooting.

Shooting faster than others was obvious. Because you could get counterattacked by enemies. Also, arrows didn't have as much killing power as you'd think. So shooting as many as possible in a short time was the standard.

Out of 1,200 arrows, only 300 hit the mercenaries. At first glance when thinking of regular troops not simple conscripts, it seemed few, but it was an amazing hit rate.

Mercenaries with arrows stuck all over their bodies were staggering around, running away and taking cover.

The scary thing was that not one mercenary screamed loudly because they were heavily addicted to drugs and didn't feel pain much.

Ponaxus, wrapped in a cloak made with troll skin as the base, dye applied diagonally right then diagonally left to hide the troll skin pattern, and troll tendons attached in a # shape on the inside like a net, peeked out only his eyes and scanned around.

From both sides, soldiers in heavy armor were coming down holding weapons high.

'Damn.'

He was full of thoughts that he was screwed. Above all, on the right he saw a knight wearing full plate armor and a helmet called the Faerun helm with the characteristic feature of coming down precisely from both cheeks to protect the neck.

'A knight.'

Not even an ordinary knight. From a prestigious family. What made prestigious families scary was that they had overflowing rotten money.

'I have to run.'

First Disciple Ponaxus had never caught a knight. But he knew the scariness of knights to the bone.

"Get up! You worthless things! Are you planning to ruin my reputation like this?!"

"Ugh..."

Even with an arrow stuck precisely in the knee joint, the mercenary stood up regardless. Thanks to that, Ponaxus could move a bit more freely. Because his figure was hidden by the minions standing up and regrouping.

His left hand drew a vicious demon's crest. Blue mana flashed, and mana settled where his fingers passed. That crest kept repeating, and mana overlaid. Soon the dark magic was complete.

The crest instantly swallowed the mana and spewed out dark red smoke once. That smoke immediately entered Ponaxus's nose and mouth.

"Sssss..."

Ponaxus, who swallowed it in one gulp, momentarily complained of dizziness. Staggering, he fell completely. Putting his hand on the ground, he took out parchment with his other hand. Unlike the half-wit Pandevus, he was different.

While Pandevus's black parchment had effects just from carrying it (though you needed knowledge of the crest), Ponaxus's parchment was different. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

Because it had excellent immediate effects, it was more potent.

"My god. Help me. I will become everything else for you."

Ponaxus felt the gaze of the demon Akatabert.

Whoosh!

The torn parchment instantly burned sulfur yellow. And dark red powder and black ash stuck to the mercenaries.

"Urgh! Kyak!!"

The mercenaries trembled. Their arms bent grotesquely, but strangely lengthened until their arms could touch the tops of their feet. With the effect of black leaves, even though incomplete, they began taking on a more complete werewolf form.

Black fur sprouted in clumps. Snouts lengthened and human teeth were pulled out, scarlet blood mixed with saliva and dripped down, while simultaneously sharp carnivore teeth popped out.

An arrow from somewhere aimed for the neck of Ponaxus hiding under the transforming werewolves. It passed precisely through a gap in the cloak.

Thunk!

"Huk!"

A transparent membrane blocked that arrow. But Ponaxus still jumped back and flipped over.

The dark magic Invisible Shield he manifested by drawing a crest with his left hand showed cracks to his eyes. Those cracks slowly disappeared as black smoke sparked and repaired them, then became transparent and completely invisible.

Rowan, hidden in the bushes, clicked his tongue. If his bow with attachments on top and bottom to increase tension had just a bit more power, he might've pierced through.

'What trick was he pulling—it was defensive magic.'

Ponaxus, wrapped tight in his cloak, screamed.

"Kill them all! Kill, kill!"

Crawling on the ground, he grabbed the fallen Frost Demon backpack and ran away.

Like the old saying, 'He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day,' and running was the best of all tactics.

"Awoooo!!!"

When one werewolf gave a pretty decent howling, the other 24 werewolves roared the same. Snouts shot up to the sky. Even though it wasn't night, they could become werewolves because they were pitiful beings born as experimental subjects of dark magic.

They were chimeras that only looked like werewolves on the outside.

Meanwhile, Commander Gesilian gathered the scattered soldiers into one.

"Form up! Form up!"

When the soldiers gathered as one, Bulsheben skillfully made a circular formation. Making protruding soldiers go to the back, sending soldiers too far back to the front, and aligning rows tangled because of new soldiers who didn't know their positions well.

Meanwhile, Commander Gesilian stuck his shield in the ground at the front and planted his longsword in the ground. Then he loosened the belt on his upper body carrying the claymore on his back and grabbed it. Throwing down the scabbard still connected to the belt, he drew the greatsword.

'This is bad.'

Commander Gesilian didn't know if he could handle 25 werewolves covered in black fur with wolf heads.

He also couldn't gauge the soldiers' casualties. Because of that, Gesilian's expression was rigidly frozen. Of course, nobody could see that expression because of the Three-Mirror Helm.

'The good thing is we poured arrows, so not many werewolves are moving properly.'

Still, Commander Gesilian tasted bitterness. Because the ringleader was running away.

"Hooo. Hoo."

Soldiers facing the transformed werewolves with goosebumps on their forearms, now over 2 meters tall, were rigidly frozen. There were quite a few veteran soldiers taking deep breaths.

'Damn. Having to fight those monsters on flat ground.'

'How did it come to this. Something seemed off since that werewolf corpse.'

It wasn't easy for Commander Gesilian to relieve that tension. So he didn't even try to relieve it from the start. Instead, he reminded the soldiers of their responsibility.

"Warriors of steel! Don't forget the oath you promised citizens that day! Remember that day when you shouted firmly leaving the training camp! The moment you run, everything will collapse! With your comrades' blood!"

"Peace!"

Commander Gesilian shouted again. The soldiers responded.

"With your comrades' blood!"

"Peace!"

The soldiers screamed desperately. Among them was also new soldier Roben.