Night Raid? Counterattack!

Late at night, all was quiet.

"Entering combat state!"

Duncan, who had been dozing lightly, suddenly opened his eyes. In an instant, he grabbed the Northern War Bow beside him and slung the two quivers by his pillow onto his back.

Under God's Eye View, his consciousness entered a void-like control space.

Duncan still did not fully understand the conditions for triggering combat state. It seemed that whenever an enemy targeted him, he would directly enter combat state and switch to God's Eye View mode.

The moment he moved, the Witch resting against the carriage also opened her eyes. Her azure gaze seemed to pierce the darkness, locking directly onto Duncan's movements in the night not far away. There had not been much interaction between them so far. The Witch was disguising herself and traveling north with the caravan, and Duncan could not expose her outright, lest he invite unnecessary trouble.

He merely pretended to be attracted by the alluring, slender figure beneath the Witch's robe, occasionally letting his gaze linger on her. Not her face, either—mainly her chest and legs.

The original owner had been someone who liked shortcuts. Otherwise, he would not have hit on the still-charming landlady next door. So Duncan's act was at least ninety percent convincing.

The Witch clearly believed Duncan had been drawn in by her impressive figure.

She thought Duncan did not know her identity, while Duncan wanted her to think he did not know it. That way, he could slowly get close to her and learn about this world's supernatural powers.

It was perfectly normal for a man to be attracted to a beautiful woman with an incredible body.

Once they became a little more familiar, Duncan could try striking up a conversation.

"But first, I'll deal with this trouble!"

Duncan moved closer to the caravan and stealthily approached the guard captain. The man was highly alert and immediately rose, lifting his head as he shouted in a low voice, "Who's there?"

Several caravan guards around him woke at once, their hands instantly falling to their sword hilts.

These men were all veterans.

By the terminology used among Empire mercenaries, they were veteran soldiers at the Mercenary Sergeant level.

"Those Barbarians are coming this way!"

Duncan tossed out the warning, then vanished into the darkness. It was around two in the morning. The night was pitch-black, making it impossible to see the surroundings, and many people in this era suffered from night blindness.

The guard captain immediately ordered the others to keep watch in secret. When he looked up for Duncan, the Sharpshooter had already vanished without a trace.

"It's this dark. Can he even see?" The guard captain looked worried and grim.

He could see far more than that.

With a thought from Duncan, everything in the projected image gained brightness and clarity, making it almost no different from daytime.

It was those Barbarian deserters again.

They apparently still refused to give up. They had crept over in the middle of the night and were already lying in wait in the woods ahead. It looked like they were planning a night raid.

Could I have shot some important person dead during the day?

Does their leader want revenge?

Normally, after taking such a loss once, they had no reason to return. Although the caravan carried plenty of goods, with this group of deserters' combat strength, they could have gained plenty by raiding nearby villages and towns.

During the day, there had been two enemies wearing bear skins. One had been shot in the head by Duncan, while the other had run away quickly.

Within a lush, dense forest.

The Barbarian deserters were splitting into two groups. One group planned to circle around from the south and raid the caravan at night, while the other intended to crush them from behind while the enemy was in chaos.

"Break them apart and hack that Sharpshooter to death!"

"It's dark now."

"His archery will definitely be greatly affected."

The Barbarian leader wore a savage expression, his eyes filled with rage and hatred. His blood brother had been shot in the head by Duncan during the day. He had to avenge him. Only by cutting off that southerner's head could he wash away the humiliation. The Barbarian Mercenaries treated plundering within the Empire as part of their compensation, and the Empire's upper ranks tacitly allowed it. This crushing defeat had badly damaged his authority. If he slunk away now, he likely would not be able to keep the unruly Barbarian warriors beneath him in line.

A night raid.

Regular soldiers raiding a merchant caravan guarded by mercenaries could flatten them in a single wave.

"Mark!"

Duncan moved through the night in Stealth. Under God's Eye View, he overlooked every detail of the battlefield and directly marked the enemy units with a star above them.

The Northern War Bow had an effective range of around one hundred and fifty meters.

Duncan calculated the distance, drew an arrow, found a slightly elevated slope, and nocked his bow toward the enemy's only route: an earthen bank beside a small canal. They had to pass through here, unless they wanted to wade across the stream.

One hundred and fifty meters, one hundred and twenty meters, one hundred meters, eighty meters...

Whoosh!

After gaining Archery Mastery, the Cross Star had become increasingly steady. It barely swayed or spread anymore. Duncan's view stretched across the battlefield, and he could even see a certain red pigment painted on the Barbarians' foreheads.

Splat.

A Barbarian deserter was shot in the head on the spot. With Archery Mastery, Duncan's firing speed had clearly increased. With the Cross Star stabilized, he could easily lock onto an enemy's vital points.

The darkness was his greatest cover.

Duncan deliberately waited until they were crossing the river before attacking. The moment he fired, he immediately drew another arrow and aimed at the marked unit wearing bear skin. However, someone happened to step in front of the arrow's path. That unlucky enemy took the arrow in the ribs and let out a pained muffled groan.

If it had been daytime, they would certainly have known where Duncan was hiding. But now, it was the pitch-black night they themselves had chosen for their raid.

Duncan rose unhurriedly and fired while moving slowly. Arrow after arrow, he did not seek instant kills. As long as he hit them, that was enough.

In the darkness.

The Barbarian deserters heard only the sound of arrows slicing through the air, followed by comrades around them being struck and falling one after another. Before long, they completely collapsed.

"Sharpshooter!"

"It's that Sharpshooter! He found us!..."

"He can see us!..."

Even the best Forest Hunter north of Alpiya Mountain could not possibly hit nearly every shot in such darkness. The Barbarian deserters were instantly seized by overwhelming fear.

But Duncan only found them noisy.

Anyone who had played Mount-and-Blade-style games knew that when enemies clustered together in a heap, there was no need to aim seriously. Just shoot wildly into the crowd. In that situation, only firing speed mattered. Nothing else was important. As long as the general direction was right, one person could kill dozens of enemies.

These Barbarian deserters had been utterly shot senseless!

Only when someone leaped into the river did the others react. One after another, people jumped down into the canal. Some tried to turn and flee back into the woods, since trees and brush could easily block arrows.

Duncan sped up slightly.

He found that with his current archery skill, the Cross Star would only remain stable if he stood still to aim. Once he moved, it began swaying wildly, and his accuracy dropped noticeably.

"Stationary shooting should already count as competent."

"But moving shots are clearly still lacking."

"As for mounted archery, the Cross Star would probably shake itself into a blur."

Duncan had only one target.

He had to kill that marked Barbarian leader with the star above him, that bear-skin-clad Barbarian Berserker. If he did not take him down, this would not be over.

But the man seemed to have prepared for it. He had actually found himself a coat of mail, and he was wearing a bear-skin helmet as well.

No problem.

If one arrow could not kill him, then Duncan would shoot a few more.

For many hardcore players, even without cheats, taking on a force of thirty or forty men alone with a horse, spear, and bow was routine.

Not to mention Duncan had God's Eye View enabled. The Barbarian leader could not leave his field of vision.

One arrow!

Whoosh.

Amid the whistle of the arrow, the Barbarian leader groaned as an arrow struck his abdomen. But it was not a major problem. His health bar appeared, and it had only dropped by around one-sixth. This man's health bar was actually about twice as long as Duncan's. It was the first time Duncan had seen someone with so much health.

As if struck by sudden inspiration, the Barbarian leader seemed to receive some inexplicable guidance and instantly found Duncan's position in the pitch-black night.

A vague outline.

They were roughly one hundred meters apart. From his current position, the leader only needed to run fifty meters to reach the forest. Once inside, he would be difficult to shoot. Chasing Duncan, however, required a hundred-meter sprint. The country road made full-speed running difficult, but as long as he got close, the Barbarian leader was confident that he could strangle the Sharpshooter to death with his bare hands, even without a weapon.

Roar!

Under God's Eye View, red light suddenly flashed around the marked Barbarian leader.

His running speed erupted instantly.

Adrenaline Burst?

A Barbarian Berserk state?

The distance closed rapidly. Eighty meters, seventy meters, sixty meters, fifty meters—the other side could already pinpoint Duncan's location.

Within the consciousness space.

Duncan decisively activated "Adrenaline Burst." This special ability clearly leaned toward melee combat, but after activating it, the figure controlled by his mind underwent a strange change. His pupils began to contract, his draw speed rose dramatically, and the Cross Star entered a completely steady state, barely moving at all.

Adrenaline Burst was an all-around enhancement. It did not only improve strength, agility, and speed. Bodily coordination, pupil focus, and everything else improved along with them.

One arrow, two arrows, three arrows.

Duncan drew with astonishing force, enough to make one wonder whether the bowstring would snap the next second. Yet his body's coordination perfectly controlled the war bow at its limit, and every arrow exploded with terrifying lethality!

Thud! Thud! Thud!

At that moment, the Barbarian leader was like a furious beast. He charged straight through Duncan's barrage. He ran incredibly fast and could even dodge within a small range while moving.

Thump.

When he finally reached Duncan, the burly giant, a beast of a man nearly one meter ninety tall, dropped to his knees with a thump and could not rise again. Blood soaked through the bear skin, and five or six arrows had already pierced his chest.

Duncan took out an arrow and expressionlessly aimed at the enemy's head.

Snap!

The bowstring broke. This Northern War Bow had finally snapped its string.

Without the slightest hesitation, Duncan grabbed the Farron Throwing Axe at his waist and brought it down heavily upon the enemy's skull.

Headshot!

The health bar vanished completely. This guy's health had been astonishingly high.

Target Decapitated.

Duncan immediately withdrew without searching the corpse, retreating toward the caravan because Barbarian deserters who had rallied their courage were already running this way.

The results were glorious.

In this ambush, he had killed the Barbarian deserters' leader, shot five or six dead, and wounded many more. The enemy basically had little combat strength left.

With their leader dead, the Barbarian deserters scattered.

Duncan returned to camp.

The caravan's mercenary guards did not dare act rashly. Only when dawn began to break did someone cautiously go out to clean up the battlefield.

When they returned, the way those mercenaries looked at Duncan was practically as if they were worshipping a god.

The Empire's Barbarian Mercenaries had widely recognized combat strength. A hundred-man unit could crush an Imperial legion of several hundred men head-on, yet Duncan had defeated so many of them by himself. Though they were deserters with low morale, they had still been Barbarian regulars. This was something they would never have dared imagine before.

Barbarian warriors truly were formidable. Even ordinary soldiers had longer health bars than Imperial knights.

Duncan sat expressionlessly beside the carriage, eating. He could feel the Witch's gaze occasionally falling on him while she pretended it was unintentional.

--"Sturdy: Barbarian warriors live in bitterly cold lands. Tempered by nature, they possess physiques far beyond ordinary people."

--"Archery Expertise: Your archery skill has become increasingly refined, enough to rival a Barbarian Forest Hunter. Greatly increases accuracy and firing speed, strengthens moving shots, and further enhances hunting traits."

--"Berserk [Special Ability]: An advanced branch ability of Adrenaline Burst. Greatly strengthens strength and constitution. During its duration, nonfatal wounds cannot kill you. After it ends, you enter a state of severe weakness and exhaustion. Additional negative state: Fury."

The gains from battle were decent.

It seemed the abilities he could plunder were all possessed by Barbarian warriors. If the enemy did not have an ability, he could not take it.

Berserk and Adrenaline Burst could only have one activated at a time. Once the duration ended, he felt as though he had fired off seven rounds in a row. His entire body had been drained, leaving him exhausted and weak.

This special ability could not be activated casually. Once it ended, his combat strength would be reduced by at least half.

When Duncan stood, even his arms trembled slightly. No wonder Barbarian Berserkers on Imperial battlefields could only fight one wave. By the second wave, they were probably all weak-kneed wrecks.

His other basic combat techniques had improved slightly, but none of the changes were particularly obvious.

Barbarian warriors used mostly blades and axes. Their basic forms were moves usable with those weapons. Blade techniques mainly included chopping, hacking, lifting, Stab, intercepting, blocking, deflecting, Decapitation, wiping, and so on. The Barbarian warriors' daily training was certainly focused on broad, powerful chops and hacks. Overly technical basic forms did not suit their fighting style.

"Basic forms can be used universally."

"The Stab form functions the same whether I use a blade, sword, spear, or another weapon."

"I think I understand how to use the forms in the combat panel."

Stab.

If you had used a spear to stab for years, then switched to a blade or sword, would you suddenly no longer know how to stab?

Likewise.

If you could hack someone with a blade, could you not hack someone with a sword or axe?

As for "Combat Form—Decapitation," it counted as a combination move. It did not matter what weapon was used—blade, sword, or axe—as long as it could decapitate. Its power actually depended on the most basic forms, its core being the techniques of "chopping" and "hacking."

Duncan roughly understood how the combat panel's basic forms worked. Clearly, Stab, chopping, and hacking were currently his most powerful moves, equivalent to having repeatedly trained these simple techniques for three to five years.

The caravan soon set off again.

This time, however, Duncan climbed into a carriage. After all, the battle had consumed quite a bit of his strength.

No traitors around. How about some Empire jokes?