After all that rushing around, the outposts, villages, towns, mines, and other places on every side of the outskirts of the City of Holy Light—especially to the north, east, and south—had all been attacked in turn, suffering devastating losses and casualties!
Although the furious Guts, Schierke, and Farnese had kept trying to catch up and provide support, in the end, all they had accomplished was killing three or four hundred Apostles and saving one ruined village, camp, or outpost after another. They had gained nothing else.
"Phew!"
"Hah! Hah!"
Panting heavily, Guts was worn out after nearly a full day of rushing from place to place. Now, with dusk approaching, he was exhausted—though the weariness in his heart was even worse.
"Schierke?"
"How many places have been attacked now?"
Looking at the ruined southern border outpost, at the few hundred battered survivors and the shattered buildings in a garrison that had once housed at least a thousand soldiers, Guts had just hacked the last resisting Apostle in the camp to pieces. He took the chance to rest and asked the Witch Schierke, who had just landed, with a bitter expression.
"Five..."
"No!"
"This is the sixth."
Looking at the wreckage and countless corpses, the Witch Schierke couldn't help showing a trace of sorrow and helplessness.
"Guts!"
"We're far too passive like this..."
"We can't keep letting the enemy lead us around by the nose. People aren't the only ones who can't take it—even the dragon is running out of strength."
Schierke glanced at the dragon behind her. It had landed and immediately flopped onto the ground, panting hotly and refusing to move. Knowing that they couldn't keep wearing themselves out like this, she couldn't help offering her advice.
"..."
At Schierke's words, Guts squeezed his eye shut in anguish. After