Chapter 101: Chapter 101: The Clash Begins (part 2)

Compared to the thousands of soldiers below, the nineteen skeleton archers on the wall didn’t look like much.

Not even close.

The first volley had caused some damage, sure, but once the initial shock passed, the human army quickly steadied itself.

Then, someone laughed.

“That’s it?” a man shouted from the front. “Only nineteen arrows?!”

A few others joined in, the tension breaking just a little.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“They scared us for nothing!”

Even some of the mercenaries smirked, though not all of them looked convinced.

Rhett didn’t laugh.

His eyes stayed on the walls.

“…Don’t get careless,” he muttered.

But his voice was drowned out by the rising confidence of the soldiers.

One of the Body Tempering practitioners stepped forward, his voice firm.

“Enough hesitation!”

He raised his weapon and pointed toward the town.

“Advance!”

The order spread quickly.

“Move forward!”

“Keep formation!”

The army surged ahead, more cautious now, but no longer frozen.

Behind them, a group of men began pushing something forward.

A large wooden construct.

Thick. Reinforced. Covered in strange carvings.

—

Above the walls, Aiden watched everything unfold.

His expression didn’t change.

“They’re pushing forward already…” he murmured.

Beside him, Carrion’s grip tightened on his cleaver.

“They’re confident,” Carrion said.

Aiden gave a faint smile.

“…Good.”

His gaze shifted slightly.

“Let’s see how long that lasts.”

—

Before the human army could get too close, movement erupted from the ground.

Sixteen figures burst from the dirt in a spray of loose soil and broken stone. Bronze-grade undead, thicker bones, heavier frames, their empty sockets burning faintly with dim, unnatural light.

They didn’t hesitate.

They lunged straight into the advancing line, claws and rusted weapons swinging with brutal force.

The front ranks faltered for a moment, but only a moment.

“Hold!”

Twenty-four body tempering practitioners stepped forward as one, their presence like a wall of iron.

They met the undead head-on.

Bone cracked. Metal rang. One undead had its arm torn clean off, another was smashed into the ground before it could rise again. The bronze-grade creatures were stronger than the human practitioners. Because of the buff skills of Aiden.

One undead lost an arm, ripped clean off, but it didn’t stop. It slammed its remaining limb into a man’s chest, sending him flying.

Another was crushed into the ground by a heavy strike, its skull cracking.

Then it twitched.

And rose again.

The practitioners frowned.

“What the hell, they are not dyi—”

“Focus!”

They pressed forward, movements sharp and disciplined, slowly containing the sixteen bronze-grade undead despite their unnatural resilience.

From above, Aiden observed calmly.

With all his buffs layered onto them, his undead were stronger than any warrior at the same level.

And it showed.

Even outnumbered, they were holding.

Even pushing back.

But Aiden wasn’t watching them anymore.

His eyes shifted past the frontline, to the distance.

To where the army was getting closer.

Closer to the walls.

“…Now,” he murmured.

A low, hollow sound echoed from the towers.

Then—

THUNK.

The first bone spear launched.

It tore through the air with a sharp whistle and pierced straight through a soldier’s shield, through his chest, and out his back, pinning him to the ground.

For a heartbeat, no one reacted.

Then.

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

More followed.

Dozens of bone spears shot out from the towers, each one fired with brutal force.

“Shields up!”

“Watch the—!”

Too late.

One man had his leg impaled, the spear driving him into the dirt as he screamed. Another was struck clean through the neck, his voice cut off instantly. A group trying to reposition found themselves skewered before they could even raise their guard.

Panic spread.

“They’re firing again!”

“From the towers!”

“Take cover!”

But there was nowhere to hide.

The open field offered no protection, and the closer they got, the more precise the barrage became.

From above, Aiden watched the chaos unfold.

His expression remained calm.

Cold.

The barrage didn’t stop.

Bone spears kept raining down from the towers, each shot carrying enough force to punch through shields, armor, anything in its path.

From a distance, it looked unstoppable.

But Aiden knew better.

“…It’s too expensive,” he muttered under his breath.

Behind him, one of the undead attendants tilted its head slightly, as if listening.

Aiden exhaled slowly, eyes still fixed on the battlefield.

“Each shot costs a gold coin,” he said. “And I’ve only got three hundred.”

Below, the human army was already reacting.

“Deflect them!”

A Body Tempering practitioner stepped forward, as another spear came screaming toward him.

He swung his blade.

CLANG!

The bone spear was knocked off course, slamming into the dirt beside him.

“Again!” he shouted. “Don’t let them break the formation!”

Aiden’s gaze stayed on the battlefield, steady, unmoving.

Below, the formation of the human army was starting to loosen. Not broken, but no longer as tight as before. The bone spears from the towers had done their part.

Now it was his turn.

“…I should join in too,” he murmured.

His eyes had already darkened.

Then, a faint pulse spread out from him.

Cold.

Heavy.

Like something unseen had just exhaled over the battlefield.

The first to react were the horses.

They neighed sharply, hooves stomping in panic.

“What’s wrong with them?!”

“Calm them down!”

But it wasn’t just the horses.

The soldiers felt it too.

A sudden chill crawling up their spines. Their breathing grew uneven, their grip on their weapons just a little less steady.

“…What is this?” one muttered.

A Body Tempering practitioner frowned, scanning the walls.

“Something’s coming—”

Up above, Aiden slowly raised his hand.

“Fear Pulse.”

The invisible pressure deepened.

It wasn’t enough to make them run, but it was enough to shake them.

Doubt.

Hesitation.

Just a crack.

And cracks were all Aiden needed.

“Now,” he said softly.

His mana surged.

The bronze-grade undead below suddenly stiffened.

Then moved.

Faster.

Stronger.

Their blows carried more weight, their movements more precise.

One slammed into a practitioner, forcing him back a full step this time.

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