Lord of Rot

Chapter 472: Chapter 417: Unstoppable Entrance

Lisu Muma looked at the Transcendents guarding the city wall. They were the last hope for the defense, but the enemy had yet to deploy their own Transcendents. By being forced to act while the enemy waited, they had already fallen into a disadvantageous position.

She didn’t believe that even the Transcendents could withstand a siege of three thousand men. War wasn’t simple math; just because one Transcendent could defeat one hundred men didn’t mean ten Transcendents could defeat one thousand. There were no direct equivalencies, and the tides of battle were ever-shifting.

Except for the equality found when a blade slits a throat, everything was unfair, unknowable.

The Mercenaries swarmed like ants drawn to the sweetness of a rotting berry, a dense, teeming mass. One or two would occasionally fall, but on the whole, they had secured the approach. Nothing could stop them from climbing the siege ladders now.

In the distance, Viscount Matthew smiled as he gazed upon the scene.

‘He had won!’

After taking Mama City, he’d have three thousand Mercenaries to help defend it, not to mention the support of Count Buffalo. Even Baron Porcupine wouldn’t be able to attack easily. In fact, it was hard to say if the Baron would even dare.

‘If I can use this opportunity to cripple Baron Porcupine, kill a batch of his Transcendents, and drive him out of the desert for good, all the better.’

Viscount Matthew believed Count Buffalo felt the same way. The Count had replied so quickly because he was worried the young Baron from the East Gorge would overstep his bounds and seize control of the desert.

Though the nobles of the East Gorge looked down on the barren desert, there was no denying that a noble’s desire to possess land was pathological.

‘Better to kill with a borrowed knife, then.’

‘At the very least, we’ll drive him from the desert.’

They would use force to teach the Baron from the East Gorge a lesson: this was not a place for outsiders to meddle. ‘We have our own set of rules here. If you don’t play by them, you’ll pay a heavy price.’

「On the city wall.」

The first Mercenary clambered over the top, then a second, and a third. They didn’t attack right away. Instead, they charged forward with shields raised, trying to secure a larger foothold for the comrades behind them.

Once a dozen Mercenaries were on the wall, the slaughter began in earnest.

The Transcendents were forced to join the defense. They effortlessly cut down the encroaching Mercenaries, but the sheer number of people on the wall hindered their movements.

The number of Mercenaries on the wall grew and grew.

Blades hacked, swords sliced, screams of agony, and roars of battle.

Lisu Muma gripped a one-handed sword. Her years of training and fighting had given her considerable skill, but her weakness as a woman was also obvious: she lacked the strength to wield a two-handed sword with ease.

CLANG! Her single-handed sword struck the breastplate of the Mercenary before her, kicking up a spark. The sturdy armor was left with a white gash, but that was all. The Mercenary sneered at her and raised the short-handled axe in his right hand.

SSSHK—!

A long spear flew in and buried itself in the Mercenary’s right eye socket, naturally halting his attack.

Lisu Muma subconsciously glanced back. It was one of the Porcupine Knights, clad head-to-toe in iron armor. He was more than a dozen men away from her. ‘How did he make such a precise throw? That’s inhuman accuracy.’

She snapped back to the present—this was no time for amazement. She silently thanked her savior and couldn’t help but marvel, ‘Baron Porcupine’s Knights… they’re truly powerful.’

As she chose her next opponent, her method of attack became more cunning.

She switched from slashing to thrusting, seeking out her enemies’ weak points. For example, when an opponent raised an arm for a downward chop, she could thrust her sword into their unprotected armpit.

Then, she would spin into their guard, draw the curved blade from her waist, and easily take their head.

Her lithe form moved like a keen Bonta leopardess, arduously reaping the lives of her enemies… and it was truly arduous. No matter how nimble she was, the only vulnerable spots she could target were the face, the armpits, the backs of the knees, and the neck—which was only briefly exposed when a man tilted his head back. A handful of limited targets.

These spots were normally well-protected; without a wild, overextended movement, they were impossible to reach.

Yet a single careless swing in her direction could inflict a grievous wound. They didn’t even need weapons; a direct charge from one of their powerful bodies, a collision with a burly, iron-clad frame, was more than Lisu could withstand.

SSSHK!

Another opportunistic strike found its mark, and she took a Mercenary’s life. But in doing so, she attracted more than enough dangerous attention.

When men were in a blood-frenzy, a beautiful woman was just another piece of meat that looked easier to cut down.

A shield slammed into her. Powerless to resist, she was knocked stumbling backward, her boots ringing out in a rapid staccato on the stone.

Suddenly, her heel found only empty air. Lisu’s heart seized. A quick glance confirmed her predicament.

She was at the very edge of the parapet. Moments ago, several Soldiers and Mercenaries had been locked in combat and accidentally tumbled off, their fates unknown.

The Mercenary behind the shield had no intention of letting her go. One more gentle push, and Lisu Muma would plummet, either to her death or to a life of disability.

SCREEEE—!

An eagle’s cry suddenly pierced the air. Lisu Muma then saw the Mercenary cowering behind his shield look up in terror, his eyes fixed on something behind her, as if a horrifying monster was there.

A fierce wind battered her, and a dark shadow fell over her head.

Her clothes whipped about her. She flailed her arms and shifted her weight several times to avoid the horrifying fate of being blown off the wall.

Then, she saw it: a Flying Horse with the head and wings of an eagle, skimming so low it nearly grazed her scalp as it flew past.

It stretched out its talons, seized the Mercenary who had been attacking her, and dragged him high into the sky. Once clear of the walls of Mama City, it opened its grasp.

“AHHHHH—!!!”

The Mercenary screamed as he plummeted to the ground. Everyone saw it happen, and for a moment, the battle ground to a halt.

They saw the powerful Flying Horse. It was a full size larger than any normal horse, built like a brick wall.

On its back rode a Knight. He was clad in finely patterned plate armor that shimmered with a faint glow, and in his right hand, he grasped a greatsword as ridiculously large as a door.

“Baron Leech!” Lisu Muma’s eyes lit up as she recognized the newcomer.

His arrival was a completely unexpected and welcome surprise.

She watched as Leech, riding the Horse-headed Eagle, flew along the ramparts, his greatsword shearing through the siege ladders that leaned against the wall.

The Soldiers climbing the ladders tumbled down like dislodged ticks, falling in a great cascade. The offensive that had plagued all of Mama City was utterly crushed before Leech and his Horse-headed Eagle Rocket.

Just like that, the crisis of the enemy scaling the walls was effortlessly resolved.

The Horse-headed Eagle spread its wings and soared into the sky.

In the distance, Viscount Matthew bellowed in rage, “Archers! Shoot it down!”

He would not let the fruits of a victory already in his grasp be snatched away.

A dense volley of arrows nipped at the Horse-headed Eagle’s hooves as it climbed, but not a single one could truly catch up and deliver a vicious peck.

A beat of its wings sent a gust of wind that scattered the arrows, leaving them to fall harmlessly to the ground.

The Horse-headed Eagle circled in the air for a moment, adjusted its angle, then dove.

The figure on its back lowered his profile, lying prone to reduce the wind resistance.

As it reached ground-skimming height, the Horse-headed Eagle flared its wings.

WHOOOOOSH—!

The tightly packed Mercenaries preparing for the next assault were like ants in a pan awaiting execution. When the gust of wind hit, they were already sent stumbling and reeling.

Between the gale-force winds from its wings, the charge of its iron-hard talons, and the onslaught of Leech’s swinging greatsword, they fell like a wave of wheat before the wind—unstoppable!

A rough estimate put the number at two or three hundred Mercenaries, a swathe of bodies cut from the foot of the wall where the Horse-headed Eagle had descended all the way to the back of their formation.