The camp fell silent. Everyone was tense over the coming battle. After ten minutes of waiting in formation, dense hoofbeats reached their ears, and the ground began to tremble. Their expressions tightened, and they instinctively gripped their weapons harder, as though that could bring them some sense of security.
The Bloodfang Band appeared outside the camp, with Belik at their head. He narrowed his eyes at the merchant caravan guards, Ronan and the others waiting in formation, and the chevaux-de-frise set at the entrance. His hoarse voice rang out.
"My goal is only one thing. If you lay down your weapons and abandon the goods now, I can let you leave."
"The Bloodfang Band never leaves survivors. It's a trick—don't fall for it!" At Belicha's words, the somewhat restless group steadied once more. Clearly, Belik's reputation was poor.
"Tch. You think the likes of you can stop me? When I peel your skins off later, don't blame me for not giving you a chance!" With that, Belik turned and returned to the rear of his men. The Bloodfang Band's horse bandits dismounted and spread out.
Raising his greatsword, Ronan turned to his men. "Get ready. They're attacking!"
The words had barely left his mouth when the Bloodfang Band's horse bandits launched their assault. They climbed over the chevaux-de-frise and walls, charging in from every direction. The battle was about to begin.
"Kill them all!" Ronan roared, leading the Nord Royal Guards into the charge. The other soldiers formed up around the wagons. Shields in one hand and spears in the other, they thrust the moment the horse bandits rushed forward. The bandits screamed and fell, only to be trampled to death by those surging in behind them. As the horse bandits pressed closer and closer, the soldiers had no choice but to thrust again, impaling another row before discarding their spears, drawing swords and scimitars, and grappling with the bandits in close combat.
Ronan was leading the Nord Royal Guards straight into the mass of horse bandits, slaughtering them with relish. These Nords were skilled fighters with powerful physiques. The instant they met the enemy, they hurled three throwing axes each, accurately sending them into the densely packed horse bandits. The force behind the axes was so great that they could sever an arm outright. Those unfortunate enough to be struck in the head suffered even worse—their skulls were nearly split in two, red and white spraying across the surrounding bandits. Helmets and hard skulls offered them no protection.
Just three volleys of throwing axes inflicted heavy casualties on the horse bandits. Then Ronan and the Nords charged in, unleashing a storm of blood and carnage. Trusting in his heavy armor, Ronan did not dodge at all. The horse bandits' scimitars and longswords could do nothing but throw sparks from his plate armor. Only those carrying hammers and war picks earned a measure of his attention.
Ronan raised his greatsword high and brought it down with all his strength. The horse bandit before him, armed with a spear, desperately raised it crosswise to block. But the greatsword sliced through the thin wooden shaft without resistance and sank deep into his body. Ronan's strike cleaved from the man's right shoulder to his abdomen, nearly splitting him in half.
A horse bandit wielding a two-handed warhammer was just about to attack Ronan from behind when a Nord guard slammed him down with a shield bash. Then the guard stomped hard on the bandit's neck, crushing it into a twisted shape. The Nord guards and Ronan worked together, protecting each other's backs as they killed with ruthless efficiency.
A Nord guard ducked low and caught a charging horse bandit on his shield. Then, rising with the momentum, he hoisted the man up and hurled him viciously into another horse bandit. The two crashed together and tumbled to the ground, and one unlucky bastard accidentally had his stomach sliced open by the other's weapon.
Ronan's side was cutting through the enemy with ease, but the caravan guards on the other side were having a much harder time. Though their equipment surpassed that of the horse bandits, they lacked Ronan's strength and coordination. They quickly fell into a disadvantage, able only to huddle together and retreat continuously. Their line was about to break, endangering the caravan members hiding behind them.
Noticing the disadvantage on the other side, Ronan had no choice but to rush over and reinforce them. He rammed one enemy away with a shoulder charge, then used his vambrace to block another enemy's descending longsword. Gripping his greatsword in reverse, he smashed the pommel into the man's face. The helmet caved in, and the horse bandit collapsed, spitting out several teeth. Without giving him a chance to rise, Ronan reversed his blade and drove it down, ending his life.
Ding! Achievement mission, Hundred Man Slayer, completed!
As that horse bandit breathed his last, the system notification arrived. Without time to check the Hundred Man Slayer title's attributes, Ronan turned back to deal with more enemies.
The numerical disadvantage forced Ronan to run back and forth through the camp, constantly plugging gaps. Even so, the caravan guards suffered grievous casualties. Ronan's stamina had also been heavily drained, and he was already exhausted. After all, his equipment was far from light, and Ronan's endurance stat was not high.
By comparison, the Nord Royal Guards remained full of vigor. The intense battle caused no trouble at all for these powerfully built Nords. They had fought battles far more difficult than this.
Activating Avatar of Fear, Ronan temporarily retreated to the rear to rest and check the title he had just unlocked.
Hundred Man Slayer (Title) Killing enemies slightly restored stamina, though the effect gradually diminished. Kill one thousand people to upgrade it into Thousand Man Slayer.
Just when he was sleepy, someone handed him a pillow. This title temporarily eased Ronan's lack of stamina. Only one title could be equipped at a time, so Ronan immediately equipped Hundred Man Slayer and rejoined the battle.
He grabbed an enemy's longsword with his armored left hand and yanked him closer, driving his knee into the man's crotch at the same time. The cold, hard knee plate made the man open his mouth in agony without producing a sound. His body went limp as he dropped to his knees, even releasing his longsword. Ronan faintly heard something crack.
Without time to mourn the man's departed balls, Ronan lopped off his head with one stroke, ending his suffering.
A warm current passed through his body. Though it was not obvious, the ache in Ronan's muscles eased.
Ronan spun hard, his greatsword slicing through an enemy's leather armor and opening his stomach. As the man collapsed weakly, Ronan himself staggered and had to brace his body with his greatsword.
Even with the recovery from the Hundred Man Slayer title, Ronan's stamina was nearly depleted. Fortunately, the Bloodfang Band's horse bandits were already showing signs of collapse. The camp had limited space, and once the room occupied by the guards and goods was excluded, there was not much area left.
The horse bandits could not make use of their numerical advantage. Moreover, they often had to sacrifice two or three men just to take down one caravan guard, while they had no chance at all against Ronan's subordinates, who were skilled in formation combat. Before long, the horse bandits outside were no longer willing to enter and throw away their lives, while those inside could not escape.
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