Chapter 91 - 32: [Exile Merchant Team]

Chapter 91: Chapter 32: [Exile Merchant Team]

"But if we run away, then we will become the new targets for hunting."

"Death awaits us either way, so we might as well take a gamble. At least the Northern Men don’t have the habit of slowly torturing prisoners of war..." He suddenly raised his head, lifting his reptile-like nose to sniff the air. "Wait a minute..."

The Demonized warriors looked at each other in dismay.

"There are members of the Demon Race nearby." Musa sniffed around, becoming excited. "Not Valak’s Warriors. It’s the weak kind, with very thin Spiritual Energy... They are Exiles, vagrants who are too weak for any Underground City to take them in.

"The Exiles are so weak that they can’t even defeat an Advanced Adventurer. They will saw off their noble Demon Race features, disguise themselves as lowly human merchants, and wander around with their own Merchant Teams. They pay tribute with different goods to the Masters of the Dungeon in various regions in exchange for Demonized Materials gathering and hunting permits, transit permits, and residence permits.

"They are very experienced in blending in with humans—we will go control the leader of their wandering tribe, coerce them, and have them take us inside the walls of the Northern Men!"

Musa roared and, leading five Demonized warriors, charged toward a blurry firelight and the silhouettes of more than a dozen wagons in the distant dark night.

...

Ederic’s Wall, the borderline, West Thirteen Outpost Fortress.

TAP, TAP, TAP, TAP... The sound of heavy military boots striking the ground echoed in the dim brick corridor, like the ticking of a clock counting down to Judgment Day.

The Blood Officer walked past the twelve disheveled Blood Sword Guards with his hands behind his back and a cold look in his eyes.

The young Blood Sword Guards looked as if they had just escaped from a scorching fire. Their neat Imperial Army Swordsman Uniforms were burned and tattered, marred by wounds from the attacks of the Demonized warriors. Their faces were scorched black by tar and smoke, and their originally clean hair was matted together by fire oil.

COUGH, COUGH...

The injured Swordsmen stood awkwardly in front of the officer, occasionally coughing lightly and spitting out bits of charcoal and fire oil from the corners of their mouths.

"Enemy formation?" The officer paced to the end of the line, then slowly turned around. His military boots made rhythmic tapping sounds, echoing the clock-like countdown once more—twelve rings, twelve steps, taking him exactly from the front of the line to the end. The distance between his steps was completely uniform, not a fraction off. The same was true when he turned from the end back to the front.

"One high-level member of the Demon Race, leading ten Demonized warriors, driving a heavy chariot pulled by desolate beasts, capable of spraying Supar Fire Oil," the Sword Guard Captain answered. "Sir," he added.

"You didn’t take them out?" The officer shot him a sidelong glance.

"The warhorses were burned to death, sir," the Sword Guard Captain replied in a low voice. "We couldn’t catch up."

"Casualties among the Sword Guards?" The officer paused at the head of the line, then resumed his twelve-step back-and-forth countdown of judgment.

"Two severely burned. We immediately used the reverse circuits on the sword hilts to channel life force in reverse for treatment, and they consumed Healing Potions," the Sword Guard Captain answered. "As you can see, sir, Chris and Morag are in good condition now."

"Battle record?"

"Killed five enemy Demonized warriors, sir," the Sword Guard Captain replied. "Of the remaining Demonized warriors, three are lightly injured, and two are heavily injured. The high-level Demon Race commander sustained a light injury under his ribs. Of the two desolate beasts pulling the chariot, one was killed, and the other had a leg chopped off. The enemy’s fortress chariot withstood seven blasts from our Magic Potion Cannons, and its axle was severely damaged."

"Barely acceptable." The officer nodded. "Review."

"Knowing that the enemies came from the Eastern Desert and were fully prepared, I should have anticipated the existence of the Fire of Supar in advance," the Sword Guard Captain answered. "I should have used the Magic Potion Cannons to destroy the Flint Spray Guns from a distance before approaching the chariot for close-quarters combat.

"Furthermore, initiating a boarding action during the pursuit was too rash. I was too eager to get on the roof of the chariot to duel the high-level member of the Demon Race, which caused the uncontrolled warhorses to be unable to dodge in time, and they were burned to death by the fire oil spray guns on the sides of the chariot. Without warhorses, if anyone fell behind, we wouldn’t be able to form an effective military formation. To preserve our ranks, we had to give up the pursuit."

"First mistake. With the warhorses bumping, the shooting accuracy of the prototype Magic Potion Cannons isn’t high right now. They are strictly limited to close-range armor-piercing and shield-breaking blasts. It is very difficult to destroy the Flint Spray Guns from a distance." The officer paced. "Moreover, according to the description, the chariot and the fire oil Flint Spray Guns were also covered in thick iron armor meant for chariots, making them hard to destroy quickly.

"Your Magic Potion Cannon blasts were probably too scattered, hitting the armor, wheels, and axle here and there, with some shots missing completely. If twelve people took turns blasting the exact same fixed position, it would be enough to blast open the chariot’s iron armor, shatter a wheel, or destroy the entire axle—instead of leaving every part of the enemy chariot slightly damaged while it could still continue to flee.

"Second point is correct. Before boarding, you must ensure that the opponent’s vehicle has been completely destroyed or temporarily immobilized. If the opponent’s vehicle still has good mobility, recklessly boarding can easily scatter your formation. We are not desperado bandits, nor are we Duelists who like to show off in one-on-one combat. We are soldiers, and you are not allowed to recklessly abandon your comrades to act on your own.

"Do you understand?"

"Understood, sir," the twelve Blood Sword Guards responded in unison, coughing intermittently.

"Alright, go find the Legion Alchemist to treat your throats and burns, and wash the fire oil off your bodies. Today’s sword-cannon practice and marching drills are canceled. Get a good rest." The officer waved his hand. "Dismissed."

"Yes, sir." The twelve Sword Guards lined up, jogged briskly, and left the room.