Head Harvesting

Whenever the Barbarian Mercenaries lost a battle, they would sack the Empire's civilians to restore morale.

It was an old Empire tradition.

Those Barbarian troops had to burn, kill, and plunder before they could regain their fighting strength. If the Empire's military pay ran short during wartime, they could simply massacre nearby villages and towns to scrape together supplies and wages on the spot. To some of the Empire's upper ranks, Barbarian armies might even offer better value for money, since sometimes they did not need to be paid at all.

The enemy held a numerical advantage, but they did not launch a direct assault.

The caravan guards still had some fighting ability, and a frontal attack would likely cost them heavily.

The mounted guard captain shouted toward the distance in the northern barbarian tongue. The caravan traveled everywhere year-round, and its people knew many languages. He was roughly offering to leave them half the goods in exchange for sparing everyone else.

The Barbarian rout soldiers refused.

A vicious-looking man who seemed to be their leader stepped forward. Draped in a bear pelt, he said in a low voice, "Leave all your valuables and women behind, and I'll let you go."

The barbarian scouts had sharp eyes. They had spotted several women in the group, and the Barbarian warriors immediately grew restless.

The caravan members hesitated.

Whoosh!

An arrow ripped through the air and blew apart the head of the nearest Barbarian rout soldier. Negotiations instantly collapsed, and battle was about to erupt.

Duncan saw it clearly.

The arrow had suddenly flown out from the crowd. No one had drawn an arrow or raised a bow. It was as though an arrow had appeared from thin air, leaving no room for negotiation.

The Witch had done it.

There were only a few women in the caravan. The moment they demanded the valuables and women, one Barbarian rout soldier was immediately shot dead.

The enraged Barbarian troops began their attack.

They appeared to be a scattered company of a hundred, now numbering around thirty. Their equipment varied widely. Unlike the Empire's army, most wore medium armor made from animal hides, while some even bared their chests, wielding two-handed battle-axes or greatswords. They looked like routed soldiers from different units who had gathered together.

But those bastards ran fast!

If the knight Duncan had used Qin King Circling the Pillar on earlier had possessed their speed, he would have been dead long ago.

"This is practically a hundred-meter sprint!"

"Are Barbarians really this physically strong?"

If they charged head-on, aside from a few capable mercenaries who might hold them off, everyone else would probably collapse instantly.

"Give me the war bow!"

Without another word, Duncan set down his shoddy hunting bow and reached for the Northern War Bow held by a nearby guard. The caravan guard was still stunned and had not reacted when Duncan had already snatched the bow from his hands.

"Take this."

He tossed the shoddy hunting bow over, nocked an arrow in an instant, and drew the war bow into a full moon. The bowstring tightened. His body after transmigrating was in decent shape; he could fully draw even a war bow. As the Cross Star wavered across the projected interface, Duncan relied on over a decade of gaming experience. Despite his insufficient Archery skill, he used the swaying Cross Star to aim and lock onto his target.

Whoosh!

A Barbarian Berserker charging at the front was instantly headshot. Its health bar flashed into existence, then vanished. It was clearly somewhat longer than the ones Duncan had seen before.

But it was still within the range of an ordinary person.

"As long as I still have crosshair correction..."

"My skills are still here!"

That arrow stunned everyone on the battlefield. The Barbarian rout soldiers also looked terrified. The dead man had likely been one of their leaders, or perhaps a warrior of the Barbarian upper class, equivalent to an Imperial noble knight.

These high-ranking warriors, supposedly blessed by shamans, possessed vitality far beyond ordinary men. Unless the wound was fatal, they were extremely difficult to kill.

During the Empire's conquest of the Barbarians, they had even dared to charge the Imperial Guards head-on.

"One kill!"

Duncan calmly nocked another arrow and watched the changes in his Stamina Bar. Drawing a heavy bow consumed quite a bit of stamina. Perhaps because his last shot had been so accurate, the wavering Cross Star had noticeably stabilized. Based on how games worked in the past, once Archery improved, the aiming crosshair should become steadier and steadier until it turned into a correction crosshair that hit wherever it pointed.

Once Archery was maxed out, he could unleash a storm of arrows. Before his skill caught up, he could only rely on his own control, aiming through feel and estimation.

Rapid fire was out of the question for now.

"Pop Q!"

An arrow tore through the air, and another Barbarian warrior in a bear pelt was headshot on the spot. Barbarians liked charging at the front. Their discipline was poor, and bravery came first. It was common for the backbone of their armies to charge too fiercely and get themselves killed. Still, their fighting spirit was high. They believed dying on the battlefield made a real man, while dying sick in bed was cowardice. Even if their officers died, they could keep fighting, and after scattering, they could gather their remnants and fight again. Their morale was far higher than the Empire's army.

But losing two officers in a row still made them afraid.

Rout soldiers had already suffered a crushing defeat, so their morale had not been high to begin with.

When Duncan nocked another arrow, some Barbarian rout soldiers visibly panicked and actually turned to flee.

One arrow, one kill.

That was terrifying!

"Sharpshooter!" The caravan guard captain stared in shock. Delighted, he brought two guards to Duncan's sides, seemingly afraid that a Barbarian archer might take him out.

In a small-scale skirmish, a Sharpshooter's deterrent power was astonishing.

"The feel's still there!"

Duncan gradually settled into the zone.

If he had been fighting in person, his hands would probably have been shaking so badly that he could barely draw the bow. But within God's Eye View, the momentum of those days when he fought a hundred enemies alone in games came flooding back.

"I'm Calradia's Sharpshooter!"

"Champion of the arena!"

"Fearless knight of the battlefield!"

"King of Ashes!"

Duncan slightly raised his angle and fired in an arc. While his feel was good, he would take down as many as he could.

"Blow Q!"

The arrow fell in an arc and pierced through a chest. It did not kill the enemy immediately, but he likely would not live long.

Barbarian Mercenaries rarely wore heavy armor to begin with, and rout soldiers had discarded part of their armor and shields. For a Sharpshooter facing lightly armored units, this was pure bliss. Barbarian territory was mostly rugged mountains and primeval forests. Archers were less threatening in dense woods, and they were not accustomed to fighting in forests while wearing heavy armor.

Duncan's feel was unmatched for the moment. He planned to grab a pentakill in one go.

Whoosh!

But just then, an arrow came flying at him. Under God's Eye View, Duncan instantly became alert and realized an enemy archer was sniping him. Yet before he could react, the arrow seemed to strike something in midair. It inexplicably veered off course, dropped weakly, and lodged in the butt of the man lying limp on the ground ahead.

The man immediately howled like a dying ghost, convinced he was about to die.

The guard captain beside him slapped him hard enough to knock out a tooth, nearly knocking the unlucky man unconscious.

"Shut up!"

With a blade at his throat, he instantly behaved.

Under God's Eye View, Duncan noticed a hooded figure approaching him. Her figure was curvaceous; she was definitely a woman. She had just made a slight lifting motion with her hand, and the arrow aimed at him immediately deviated from its path.

Witch!

The mark that had been yellow and neutral abruptly turned blue, even showing signs of shifting toward a green unit.

Had she become an allied unit?

Duncan did not hesitate in the slightest. He turned his arrow toward the Barbarian archers. He remembered that after killing enemies, he could seize their abilities. If he took out one or two Barbarian archers, perhaps he could unlock Archery skill points.

"Doll Grab Q!"

"Spray him Q!"

Duncan's feel exploded. In a volley of rapid shots, seven arrows earned him a pentakill. Three enemies died on the spot, while two were critically wounded and near death. By himself, he forcibly shattered this wave of Barbarian rout soldiers.

Even the routed army leader wearing the bear pelt retreated beyond bow range in fright.

Under God's Eye View, Duncan's ability to pick off targets was simply too strong.

Their only chance had been to overwhelm the caravan guards in one charge while they were in disarray. Once a defensive formation had been established, they could not break it in a single assault.

"I never thought that after playing games for over ten years, I'd be slaughtering enemies like this!"

Under God's Eye View.

The youth controlled by Duncan wore a cold expression, like a merciless Sharpshooter, with only a faintly sinister smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Once he entered God's Eye View, the body he controlled became a mechanical Slayer.

The Barbarian rout soldiers numbered only around thirty. Losing one-sixth of their force at once had nearly shattered their morale. Caught between advancing and retreating, they could only pull back for now. They could not break through the wagon formation in one assault, and the caravan still had many guards. If they gave Duncan a little time, even ten kills were not impossible.

More importantly, the Barbarian leader in the bear pelt feared being headshot himself.

Duncan's Archery was not truly that accurate, but with God's Eye View and Cross Star correction, he did not need to care about anything else. He did not even need to control his body. As long as he found his rhythm, once he aimed, it was an instant kill.

Shooting arrows himself and shooting arrows in a game were two entirely different things.

"They're retreating!" A caravan guard cheered.

Duncan nocked one final arrow and aimed at an extreme long-range arc. The arrow cut through the air, crossing the entire battlefield over a distance of more than three hundred meters, and landed less than three meters from a Barbarian rout soldier.

At that distance, it had little killing power left.

But its intimidation was undeniable. The Barbarian rout soldiers retreated into the forest even faster.

Everyone present was utterly stunned. The masked Witch's eyes were also filled with surprise. She had not expected Duncan to nearly hit a target from such a distance. With a stronger bow, he might even have taken down another enemy.

"I haven't left combat."

Under God's Eye View, Duncan controlled his body and stayed alert. The rest of the caravan also began moving. The guards spread out around him, clearly treating him as their central pillar and protecting him.

The Witch also remained some distance from Duncan, seemingly protecting the area around him as well.

The disordered caravan set off again.

The young man who had been shot in the butt did not even glance at the corpse of his fellow villager nearby. He cried and begged the others to take him along. In the end, the guard captain took pity on him, lifted him one-handed, and threw him onto a mule cart. No one bothered with the arrow in his butt. Whenever he touched it, he erupted into another round of shrieking.

The enemy had not given up.

Those rout soldiers trailed behind the caravan, looking for a chance to take revenge.

Duncan controlled the body and followed the caravan through God's Eye View. They traveled for most of the day. Finally, after he fired an arrow into the woods, the Barbarian rout soldiers who had been following them finally withdrew.

They had discovered that this Sharpshooter had eagle eyes!

They were scared!

"If my Archery were just a little higher, and I had a horse to keep my distance, I could solo them."

If the corrected Cross Star under God's Eye View became more stable, Duncan was confident he could harvest every last one of them.

Of course, he did not want to take such a risk yet.

There was no need unless it was a matter of life and death. Driving the enemy away was enough. His strength would only grow stronger in the future.

--"Archery Mastery: You have gained the combat techniques of a skilled archer and are familiar with conventional ranged weapons such as hunting bows, war bows, and longbows. Your accuracy and firing speed have improved."

--"Combat Style—Decapitation: Barbarian Berserkers excel at Decapitation attacks. Their fierce strikes can directly decapitate enemies. Additional Intimidation and fear inflicted."

--"Adrenaline Burst [Special Ability]: A strange ability of Barbarian Berserkers. After receiving ritual blessings from shamans, they can enter Berserk in battle, causing an Adrenaline Burst through a unique method. When activated, it locks the Stamina Bar and greatly enhances physical abilities. After it ends, it leaves the user weakened and exhausted."

There were not many skills dropped this time. It seemed that not every enemy dropped a skill.

However, in Duncan's combat panel, the two basic styles, Chop and Slash, had both gained pale blue borders. Barbarian warriors were probably exceptionally skilled in these two basic styles.

If he maxed them all out, would he be able to kill a kid with every swing?

"Special ability?"

"As expected, there are plenty of supernatural powers in this world."

Duncan hoped even more that he could unlock a Mana Bar. At the very least, like a Witcher, he could use some simple tricks or Signs.

Being nothing but a melee brute was still lacking. Even Gandalf could cast a flash spell.

Witch.

At last, Duncan had the chance to take a proper look at the Witch mixed in with the caravan. He could not see her face clearly, but her figure could not be hidden by her long robe at all. She had the standard female mage figure from the Wizard series, a pair of sapphire-blue eyes, and facial contours that revealed exceptional beauty. She was the kind who could truly hold her own.

She seemed to have little presence within the caravan. Others appeared to overlook her unconsciously.

"My medallion is trembling."

Though curious, Duncan remained restrained. After all, she was a neutral unit marked with a skull.

Don't screw this up.

Before nightfall, the caravan reached a village. Border villages were all small, and this one had only one or two hundred residents. The villagers were extremely wary and only allowed them to camp and rest by the threshing ground. Some caravan hands went over to negotiate and traded for a few things from the villagers.

The place where Duncan settled down smelled of cow dung. There were haystacks nearby, and the refugees moved some over without permission, spreading it on the ground as beds.

The young man who had been shot in the butt had already pulled out the arrowhead. It was only a light wound, and after simple bandaging, it did not affect him much. At that moment, he eagerly led two refugees in preparing a place for Duncan to rest, bowing and scraping with the manner of a bootlicker.

Before he could even bite into his rations, caravan guards brought over food and a small jug of wine. The caravan hands had traded with the villagers for fresh vegetables and cooked them into a pot of mixed meat stew. They ignored the other refugees entirely. A young caravan hand eagerly carried over a large bowl, set it down with a nervous expression, and withdrew. He occasionally looked back at Duncan, his gaze faintly reverent.

The Northern War Bow lay beside him. The caravan guard never came to ask for it back, nor even mentioned it. They had even specially prepared two quivers for him.

The entire village was silent. Not a sound came from any poultry or livestock.

An old Empire tradition.

The cow dung was still there. The cows were gone.