“HAHAHAHA! IS THAT THE BEST YOU’VE GOT?”

Helga’s laughter echoed across the ruined plaza. She stood in the middle of a crater she had just made while dust and pulverized concrete swirled around her.

She tracked the ten War Hounds as they encircled her, but she didn’t feel the pressure of a threat; she felt their hesitation.

The aggression drained out of the group in an instant. She saw their ears flatten against their skulls as if they were dogs. She watched the terror take hold behind their eyes as they realized they were not the hunters, but the prey.

Slamming her hammer into the ground again, Helga roared, “Come on!” The impact generated a shockwave that knocked three of them off their feet. The others were killing left and right. She turned, only to see that the others were taking all the fun.

“Ironsides! Leave some for me!”

The battle here was less of an ambush and more of a brawl because Helga had not bothered with stealth; instead, she had just marched her squad into the middle of the War Hounds’ patrol route, daring them to respond.

When a Level 125 War Hound screamed a battle cry and charged her with an axe that glowed red with active skills, Helga merely grinned. Rather than blocking or dodging, she simply swung.

Her hammer met the axe mid-air. There was a deafening CLANG, and the axe shattered into shrapnel.

The momentum of Helga’s swing drove the hammer straight into the berserker’s chest, crushing him where he stood rather than launching him backward.

The impact drove him into the pavement, cracking the stone beneath him as the system announced his death and he was turned into bloody paste.

[Justice Berieb—level 125 — defeated.]

“Next!” Helga shouted.

A War Hound sword bounced off a Spriggan’s enchanted breastplate. The Spriggan laughed and head-butted the attacker, knocking him cold.

“They’re breaking!” one of Helga’s people said. “They’re trying to run!”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Helga pointed her hammer at a group trying to flee down an alley. “Summon the blockade!”

Five of her mages stepped forward. They cast Summon Steel Sentinel Squad, the skill Reidar had talked to them about and suggested they buy.

It was for level 100 survivors, but nothing said they could not buy and use it at higher levels. This particular group of War Hounds didn’t even have summoning skills, which put them at a significant disadvantage against Helga. No, against everyone.

Twenty-five heavy, armored constructs materialized at the mouth of the alley, locking their tower shields together. The fleeing War Hounds skidded to a halt, as they were forced to face a wall of mana steel.

They turned back, only to see Helga charging at them like a runaway train.

“Please!” one of them begged, dropping his sword. “We surrender! We surrender!”

Helga stopped inches from his face, the wind from her movement blowing his hair back. She towered over him, a titan of muscle and iron.

“Surrender?” she asked, tilting her head. “We’re just getting warmed up.”

She looked around. The plaza was littered with bodies. Her squad had taken a few hits, sure, but thanks to the tips Reidar gave, thanks to the summons, thanks to the gear that they were able to buy, and thanks to the level gap, they were barely scratched.

It didn’t help the War Hounds that Helga reached level 180.

“Tie them up,” she ordered, spitting on the ground. “Strip them naked. Leave them their boots so they can walk back to Venn and tell him the Ironsides send their regards.”

She looked toward the east, where the sound of distant explosions marked Seraphine’s sector.

“Hope the White Death is having as much fun as I am,” she said, hoisting her hammer again. “Alright, boys! Form up! We’re hitting the next patrol in ten minutes!”

The silence returned to the battlefield.

—***—

Seraphine stood over the remains of a fountain, her bow lowered, but the string still vibrated from the last shot. Around her, the battle was over.

It had been fast. She wasn’t called the White Death for nothing. Yet, she had held back, leaving the bulk of the fighting to her people, since that was still a chance for them to gain C.L.A.S.P. points by killing these bastards who were planning on helping the Church of Unbinding destroy the city, and their deaths were a valuable opportunity for her squad to harvest them.

Her team lined the rooftops surrounding the square. They hadn’t lost a single person. In fact, the War Hounds hadn’t even noticed them until half their number were already on the ground with arrows in their eyes or necks.

Below, the remnants of the War Hound squad, about fifteen men and women, were on the ground, oozing blood.

Some even relieved themselves—more than one, actually. There were also a couple of them alive. Seraphine didn’t kill them because she had some questions to ask, for example, what was the location of the closer patrol group?

“Tie them up,” Seraphine said.

Kara stepped forward, kicking a sword away from a kneeling War Hound. “You heard her. Hands behind your heads. One wrong move, and you’re a pincushion.”

Seraphine looked at the area. She checked the corners, the shadows, and the rooftops. Apparently, there were no reinforcements. No surprises.

She hopped down from the fountain and walked toward the prisoners.

The leader of this War Hound squad glared up at her. He was on Level 129. A week ago, he would have been a threat. Today, he was just another target, as Seraphine actually reached level 201.

“You won’t get away with this,” he said. “Judas will make you pay. The Church—”

Seraphine didn’t let him finish. She moved faster than he could react, drawing a dagger and pressing it against his throat.

“The Church is busy,” she said. “We made sure they would be, but don’t worry, they won’t be forever. In truth, in less than a week we are going to pay you lot a visit.”

She paused. “Tell me… uh…” She looked at his name.

“What the—?”

—[«Wayne Kerr—Level 129»]—

Seraphine looked at the name, but she couldn’t quite believe someone dared to call their son that way.

“Were your parents crazy?”

“What do you want, bitch?”

“Not a friendly guy, uh?” She sighed.

“Do you know why you lost today, Wayne?”

He swallowed hard, feeling the cold steel against his skin. “Because you ambushed us.”

“No,” Seraphine said. “Because while you were bullying survivors and stealing scraps, we were preparing to take you down.”

She pulled the blade back.

“We’re not killing you,” she said, although most of those people were dead already. “Not today, at the very least. You know, there are quite several questions I would like to ask you.”

At that point, Kara approached her.

“They were carrying quite a good haul. It’s a jackpot,” Kara said, walking up beside her. “We got three crates of mana potions and enough high-grade leather to outfit two squads. That and many weapons, armor… Even normal clothes, beer. Fuck… They were even bringing wine. I wonder what Silas is doing with all of this.”

“He needs to show his subordinates that joining the Church is a beneficial choice.” She paused. “He is most likely showing this to whoever they just recruited or forced to join. Essentially, it’s all propaganda.”

“If you say so…”

She sighed. “Get the loot back to base. And get the healers to check everyone, even if they say they’re fine.”

She looked beyond the city walls. Towards the War Hounds base. She knew that, in a couple of days, the real battle would start. Then, her attention snapped back to the captive in front of her.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep