Bearman Viri

Old Zak, standing atop the Bloodhoof Battle Ring like a war god possessed, swung the gate bar from Outpost County's city gate. Dozens of Wolf Cavalry from the Beastmen of Behemoth could not get anywhere near him.

The tribe's elite warriors beside Old Zak joined forces to hold the eastern gate of Outpost County, which was only wide enough for a single carriage to pass through.

But the tide-like Wolf Cavalry charged forward wave after wave, utterly fearless of death.

An elite Barbarian of the Wasteland might be able to kill a Behemoth wolf rider with ease, but when two wolf riders mounted swift giant wolves, even a barbarian with nothing but brute strength might not be able to cover both front and rear.

The Wolf Cavalry of the Beastmen of Behemoth was considered Behemoth's most distinctive military unit. Mounted on giant wolves, they came and went like the wind and served as light cavalry. In large-scale battles, they generally handled raids and lightning attacks. Each rider only needed to carry several days' worth of rations, with no need for baggage trains. Their efficient mobility often caught enemies completely off guard.

Like the Barbarians of the Wasteland, the Behemoth Orcs lived on land barren of iron and steel. Yet aside from equipping their few powerful units, the orcs used nearly all their scarce steel on the Wolf Cavalry.

Fine curved blades gleamed with dazzling cold light in the Wolf Cavalry's hands. No individual blade could be called a divine weapon, but in the hands of wolf riders skilled with the sword, they became Death's sickles, tools for harvesting lives.

If the warriors of the Bloody Hoof Tribe had not been born with Stone Skin, if the Wolf Cavalry had not all been fighting in close quarters, and if there had not been only one narrow path north of Outpost County, surrounded by muddy roads unsuitable for giant wolves to run on, Outpost County might already have been engulfed in war.

Old Zak kicked a snarling giant wolf flying and mentally cursed out Little Zack's and Big Babylon's ancestors.

Perhaps barbarians had simply grown accustomed to serving as other people's free thugs. Old Zak had just been wondering why they had suddenly ended up fighting a bunch of Behemoth wolf riders, but as he watched his clansmen get wounded, his fury rose higher and higher. He no longer cared to think about the reason. Fight, then. Their people had always been dragged into all sorts of battles for no reason, and they had done plenty of thankless, exhausting work.

Barbarians might crave battle and blood, but they were no fools. At the end of the dirt path, apart from the densely packed Wolf Cavalry, an abnormally huge bearman was eyeing them menacingly.

There were simply too many Behemoth Orcs. The nearly hundred clansmen he had brought could not possibly resist them. But what else could they do? Retreating meant entering Outpost County and facing the cunning humans, caught between enemies on both sides. Yet they could not charge their way out either.

When Allen's group arrived at Outpost County's eastern gate, the long, narrow eastern path was carpeted with Behemoth wolfmen corpses, while nearly a hundred elite warriors of the Bloody Hoof Tribe fought bloodily.

Wood stared gravely at the densely packed Behemoth Wolf Cavalry several hundred yards away, cold sweat breaking out across his back. Most of the dozen or so Faith Guardian Knights were young noble sons from other kingdoms.

They were fine when it came to bullying Outpost County's civilians, and that did not even include the unruly locals who had once made their living through murder.

Now, faced with so many Behemoth wolf riders, several young Faith Guardian Knights immediately suggested to Wood, "Your Excellency Bishop, let's retreat. If those orcs break in, we won't be able to get away."

Wood looked at Allen, tempted.

Allen said nothing. He knew these Behemoth Orcs had definitely come for Dina. Even if they retreated through the southern gate into the heartland of the Kingdom of Locke, countless innocent civilians in villages and towns would suffer.

Big Babylon had run all the way from the Old Castle without the slightest hesitation. With a roar, he charged out and joined the battle.

Allen sighed, took the Wolf-tooth Club from Dina, and followed close behind.

The battle-crazed Sakre had not changed his old bad habits. Carrying two broken iron swords, he followed as well. In his dictionary, there seemed never to have been a word called fear.

Dina carried a Siege Crossbow on her shoulder and held the Seven-Meter Dragon Spear upside down as she followed behind her Second Young Master.

Once they ran out through the eastern gate and joined the battle, the pressure on Old Zak's group eased greatly.

Although barbarians were born with Semi-Petrified Skin, the Wolf Cavalry's curved blades were of excellent quality. After several strikes to the same spot, several elite warriors of the Bloody Hoof Tribe had still been wounded.

Sakre had just ignited the Battle Aura within him when he saw Dina about to run over on her own two legs to help. His face changed drastically as he shouted, "Get back! Stay away from us!"

Dina stopped herself abruptly and looked at Allen with hesitation on her face.

Allen sent a wolf rider flying with one swing of his club, then turned and nodded to Dina.

Most of the wolf riders before them were tall and powerfully built, but their appearance was not much different from ordinary humans. Other than the furry tails hanging behind them and their exceptionally thick full beards, it was their savage eyes that made people fear them at a glance.

The curved blades glowing with dim light struck the Wolf-tooth Club without damaging it in the slightest. Yet several of the club's spikes had been knocked off. Allen could not be bothered over whether the weapon suited him. The enemies were packed everywhere before him anyway, so he just swung the damn thing wildly.

Many wolf riders spotted Dina in the distance and began shouting, "Viri! Viri! Viri! Viri! Viri!"

At first there were only four or five of them, then every wolf rider present shouted in unison, "Viri! Viri! Viri!"

The wolf riders raised their curved blades and no longer rushed toward the eastern gate. Instead, they slowly retreated.

A Behemoth Orc even larger than Big Babylon walked forward. He looked like a giant iron barrel come to life, nearly three meters tall and completely covered in iron armor. His eyes were blood-red, and the fur on his arms and calves was even thicker than the wolf riders' beards.

"That's a Bearman of Behemoth. This fellow should be the Viri they're calling for. Among the Beastmen of Behemoth, only the strongest races are granted names." Sakre wielded his two broken iron swords in crossed arcs. After igniting his Battle Aura, he was like a glowing spinning top, rotating without pause as every wolf rider who approached was cut in two at the waist.

The bearman named Viri was extremely bad-tempered. Seeing the wolf riders around him blocking his path, he casually slapped several unlucky fellows flying and strode toward Allen with heavy, snorting breaths.

Inside the northern gate, Wood felt it was time to slip away. He knew the Beastmen of Behemoth fairly well.

Though the Behemoth Kingdom was barren, under the leadership of the Lion-Tiger Royal Family, the populous Behemoth had come to dominate the north of the Saint Cassis Continent. Only the Great Wilderness separated them from the human nations.

Among the Behemoth Orcs, Pig-faced People made up sixty percent of the total population.

Pig-faced People were extraordinarily fertile. If the Lion-Tiger Royal Family had not deliberately kept them in check, the other races combined might not even have amounted to a third of their numbers.

The Pig-faced People were also the Beastmen of Behemoth's only infantry race. Next came the Wolf Cavalry, Behemoth's light cavalry.

Apart from those two races, the strongest individual fighters were, aside from the Lion-Tiger Royal Family, rare races such as the Elven Clan and the Bear Clan.

The most common among them was the Bear Clan. Bearmen were naturally powerful warriors, their sturdy bodies often as indestructible as steel. Braver even than the Barbarians of the Wasteland, once they entered a battlefield, they became like meat grinders. Ordinary dozens of warriors might not be able to hold off even one.

Furthermore, because the Bear Clan had a relatively small population, they generally served as lower-ranking commanders.

Wood had never expected that tiny Outpost County would attract not only so many wolf riders, but even a member of the Bear Clan.

This bearman named Viri was the commander of all the Wolf Cavalry and belonged to the Behemoth royal family's guard.

Viri had led numerous wolf riders around the countless Barbarian Tribes of the Wasteland, then regrouped at Outpost County for the sole purpose of capturing Dina, the Church's candidate Saintess, alive.

Viri did not know what his king wanted with a female barbarian, but all he had to do was obey orders.

Having found the target, the hot-tempered Viri was unwilling to waste any more time and personally joined the battle.

Seeing the bear-like Viri, Allen struck first, leaping into the air and bringing the Wolf-tooth Club crashing down at his head.

The bearman crossed his arms to block it, and the Wolf-tooth Club snapped in two. Allen then kicked at the bearman's crotch, the only place left exposed beyond the iron armor.

Allen felt as though he had kicked an exceptionally hard coconut. His right foot actually went numb.

Clutching his crotch, Viri revealed an utterly terrifying smile, as if he enjoyed the pain. His blood-red eyes shot out a vicious glare that seemed almost tangible.

He raised his palm and was about to smash it down on Allen's head when, at the critical moment, a crossbow bolt as thick as a child's arm tore through the air and buried itself directly in Bearman Viri's right eye.

A spray of blood-red liquid burst from the bearman's face.

"Awoo!" The pained howl made Allen's eardrums ache.

Bearman Viri was unbelievably tough. He yanked the Siege Crossbow bolt from his eye socket, with a blood-red eyeball still hanging from it.

He snapped the arm-thick bolt in half, and red-and-white fluid flowed from Bearman Viri's hollow eye socket.

Allen guessed the white stuff was brain matter, and his scalp tingled slightly.

Enraged, the bearman walked toward Allen one step at a time, his face covered in blood and looking utterly horrifying.