"You damn fool!"
One of the sheriffs wearing a Reindeer Mask snarled.
"Kill him!"
The two men raised their guns and fired, shots booming.
But Gilan was incredibly quick, dodging from side to side between the pines.
Bullets struck the trunks with a series of thuds, spraying wood chips and leaving dents. Gilan took the opportunity to close in on the two men and raised his short-barreled revolver to return fire.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The terrain was complicated, and Gilan was on the move. None of the three shots hit a vital spot. One missed entirely, while the other two only struck the men in the arms.
Gilan wasn't worried.
His strengths lay in his physique and close-quarters combat.
With a thud, Gilan kicked off hard from a tree trunk and launched himself forward, driving his right knee into a man's face. The blow shattered the Reindeer Mask and crushed his cheek.
Pfft!
The sheriff toppled backward from the knee strike, then cracked his head against a large cobblestone on the ground. He went still at once.
Crack!
Gilan stomped on his throat, then charged at the other man.
The man tried to shoot, but they were far too close. Gilan reached out with both hands, grabbed him, and tackled him to the ground.
With a thump, Gilan knelt on top of the man. His face expressionless, he brought down a fist.
Bang!
The punch sent mask fragments flying, along with bloodied teeth and flecks of blood.
Gilan's knuckles split and bled, but he seemed not to feel the pain. He brought down his other fist.
Bang!
Bang! Bang!
His fists blurred as he pummeled the enemy beneath him, striking him again and again in the face.
At first, the man managed a couple of screams. Then he fell silent, leaving only a pool of blood behind.
Gilan slowly rose to his feet and turned to look.
The Assembly members were still locked in a fierce fight. Mr. Oystercatcher and Miss Sparrow seemed to have suffered a few injuries, but nothing serious. More than half of the Cultists had fallen, too.
Fima had hidden far away, crouching behind a large boulder with her hands over her ears, trembling.
The sky had gradually turned yellow, and the whole pine forest seemed dreamlike.
Light pierced through the gaps like spears.
"Take that, you damned Cultists!" Mr. Oystercatcher roared. Surrounded by two masked men wielding axes, he had put on his brass knuckles and thrown himself into the fight.
Amid a series of dull cracks, his heavy punches battered his enemies. After several exchanges, he managed to knock down both masked men, but he'd taken even more injuries in the process. Blood had soaked through the bandages around his body.
Mr. Oystercatcher panted heavily. A glance to the side made him suddenly spot a female masked figure hiding behind a tree, raising a pistol at him.
"Damn it!" He ducked and drew his two guns as fast as he could, firing repeatedly toward the masked woman.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Miss Seagull, who had been taking aim at an enemy, suddenly heard gunshots erupt beside her. She was just about to look when her cool, lovely face froze.
She looked down and saw that she'd been shot in the abdomen!
Blood poured from the wound, staining a patch of her close-fitting white wool sweater red.
A surge of pain followed. Through her fading vision, she saw Mr. Oystercatcher, his eyes bloodshot, firing wildly at her.
"Oystercatcher! What are you doing?!" Mr. Stork smashed the head of the enemy in front of him with his cane. Seeing what was happening, he couldn't hide his shock.
The next moment—
Whoosh—
Thwack!
Mr. Stork sensed danger at the last possible instant and raised his arm to shield his face.
A slender metal arrow pierced his forearm, its bloodied tip stopping just centimeters from his eyes!
His heart pounded. Fighting through the pain, he looked closely and saw Miss Sparrow drawing another arrow, ready to shoot him again!
"Miss Sparrow! What are you—?!"
Mr. Stork had no idea what was going on. Mr. Oystercatcher and Miss Sparrow had gone mad and turned on their own allies.
Whoosh—whirr!
A flying axe suddenly came spinning toward Mr. Stork's head.
Almost at once, a streak of cold gray collided with it.
Clang!
The axe was knocked aside. Mr. Stork spun his cane and dodged behind a pine tree.
With a stony expression, he yanked the arrow from his left arm and tossed it away. Ignoring the blood pouring from his wound, he drew the pistol at his waist and fired at a forty-five-degree angle to the right.
Bang!
A burly masked man who had been preparing to throw another axe toppled over. A bloody hole gaped in the center of his forehead.
"Mr. Snowy Owl, hurry and help Miss Seagull!" He flicked the hand holding his pistol, fired another shot that blew a Cultist's head apart, and called out in a low voice.
"Okay." Gilan's reply was brief.
Perhaps his trips through the Moon-Scorched Village movie world had left him familiar with the forest. He moved through it with remarkable speed.
Miss Seagull leaned against a pine tree, clutching her abdominal wound. Her face was deathly pale, and blood had stained her fair fingers red.
Mr. Oystercatcher was still firing at her. The repeated gunshots and the incessant shaking of the tree filled her with fear and fury.
Click, click!
Mr. Oystercatcher finally emptied his magazine. But before Miss Seagull could breathe a sigh of relief, the burly man put on his brass knuckles and charged at her, shouting, "You damned Cultist!"
Miss Seagull wanted to curse him out, but when she opened her mouth, she found herself too weak to speak.
The spiked brass knuckles came crashing down toward her head. Miss Seagull gritted her teeth, preparing to dodge despite the pain, when she caught sight of a figure moving in the corner of her eye.
Bang!
A blond young man in a brown trench coat stepped in front of her. He struck out with one hand, the heel of his palm hitting Mr. Oystercatcher's forearm and knocking the punch aside.
Then he roared, "Snap out of it!"
Bang!
The blond young man punched Mr. Oystercatcher in the face. Miss Seagull could even see the man's cheek deform beneath the blow, his eyes rolling back as his head snapped to the side.
With a thump, Mr. Oystercatcher collapsed beside Miss Seagull, blood at the corners of his mouth.
He looked like he was sleeping more soundly than a baby.
"Mr. Snowy Owl, th-thanks," Miss Seagull said awkwardly, looking up at the blond young man. "About last night, you..."
Smack!
The next second, she froze.
Mr. Snowy Owl had grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and lifted her like a kitten. Then he leapt to the side with her in his arms.
Whoosh—thunk!
A metal arrow struck the spot where she'd just been and lodged in the tree trunk, its tail still quivering.
"Ow..." Miss Seagull had already been wounded in the abdomen, and Gilan's grip jostled her violently. The pain nearly made her pass out.
Gilan glanced at Miss Sparrow, who was crouching behind a tree about a dozen meters away. Half her body was exposed as she drew an arrow and aimed at him, apparently mistaking him for an enemy as well.
Was she being affected by some mysterious force? Gilan frowned.
With a strong arm, he scooped Miss Seagull up and ran in the opposite direction. Whether from embarrassment or pain, Miss Seagull struggled in his arms, shoving at Gilan's face several times.
Smack!
Without a word, Gilan slapped her.
"Don't move unless you want to die!" he said coldly.
Miss Seagull stared blankly at the face so close to hers.
The pain in her abdomen seemed to vanish. Only one thought filled her mind—
I'm the daughter of a Black City councilor, and a man just slapped me?!
But the next second—
A complex, uncontrollable emotion surged inside her. It was as if a wild horse had broken free in her heart, galloping, running wild, and whinnying with all its might.
Miss Seagull's cheeks flushed, and she stopped struggling.
Instead, she obediently pressed her face against his chest, her small hand clutching the collar of his trench coat.