Ambush

Thirl's valiant effort ultimately failed to save the carriage.

The enemy had chosen their moment well. The out-of-control carriage continued in the direction it had been heading a moment ago, hurtling toward the street corner.

It finally broke apart after an intimate encounter with a brick-and-tile building.

The wooden beams supporting the carriage's main body snapped beneath the tremendous impact, sending splinters flying through the cramped space.

Heka closed his eyes and shielded his head with one hand, while securing Tuft of Hair, whose sleep was far too sound, against himself.

At that moment, he was like a little mouse tossed into a copper jar by a mischievous child along with several stones. As the jar was shaken, the stones began crushing every part of his body.

The horrifying shaking finally came to an end moments later. Heka opened his eyes and saw the pointed end of a broken timber hanging right before him, less than a fist's distance from his eye.

Heka carefully moved his body and confirmed that all four of his limbs were still intact.

Fortunately, during the shaking, the two people closest to the outer edge of the carriage had jumped out before the collision. They had not joined in the bumper-car game involving Heka and Tuft of Hair, the only two unarmored targets inside.

The carriage's main structure had shattered across the ground from the violent impact. Only its sturdier chassis still retained a relatively intact shape.

Not far away, the horse with reins deeply embedded in its neck was whinnying miserably.

A broken piece of wood had pierced one of its hind legs. Pain made it instinctively want to flee, but the carriage structure caught behind it left it unable to escape even with wings.

Heka let out a breath of stale air, then checked on Tuft of Hair beside him, only to find that the foolish kid was completely unscathed.

As Heka pushed Tuft of Hair out of the carriage, he finally saw the last armored Black Mountain warrior.

There was a terrifying dent in the warrior's breastplate. He had likely slammed into the nearby bricks during the crash.

But thanks to the armor's excellent protection, he was still groaning despite such injuries.

Just as Heka pushed Tuft of Hair away from that chaotic and dangerous place, the crossbeam wedged against the corner of the wall was finally torn apart by the horse's brute strength.

The horse then bolted into the distance as if set loose, the ropes still trailing behind it dragging broken wood across the ground and tangling around the Black Mountain warrior still lying amid the wreckage.

The fragile reins and the wooden structure that had already snapped once could not bear the weight of the heavy armor.

They dragged that Black Mountain warrior sideways in a collision, then abandoned him without a care, following the horse ahead toward the land of freedom.

Heka paid no attention to the warrior, who was taking in less air than he was breathing out. Holding Tuft of Hair, he slipped into the shadows to the side.

The arrows had come down from above. Remaining out there now would make him a living target.

Carpenter Who Isn't Called Carpenter had clearly realized this as well, though he chose the other side.

Heka tilted his head slightly, trying to check the situation ahead. But before he could poke his head out, an arrow came ripping through the air.

Heka almost instinctively jerked his head to the side. The bones in his neck let out several piercing grinding sounds from the abrupt stop and movement.

The arrow tore open Heka's cheek, its spinning blade instantly carrying away a large chunk of flesh.

Fortunately, in that instant of turning aside, Heka had already seen the battlefield. The archer stood on the roof, and he was likely Kami, the only Level 2 adventurer in the Blood Sparrow Squad—the ranger.

At that moment, only the most experienced Thirl had hidden in the enemy's blind spot. The remaining unlucky fellow had been shot through the thigh, blood running down the arrow shaft and dripping into the cracks between the bricks behind him, forming little streams in neat horizontal and vertical lines.

The enemy did not seem in any hurry to kill the opponent who could no longer resist. The second arrow did not strike a vital point, instead pinning the man through the arm.

"We only want Heka. Let him come out and meet his death, and you can leave here alive."

The ranger's voice was cold and hoarse.

"You killed our people. Black Mountain people hold grudges most fiercely. You'll let us leave? You dare let us leave?"

Thirl's voice came afterward. Heka knew those words were meant for him, likely because Thirl feared he would seize the chance to run, only to be captured by the enemy.

In truth, Carpenter Who Isn't Called Carpenter did not need to remind him. Two figures, one tall and one short, had appeared at the corner of the distant street.

The shorter figure did not even reach the tall half-orc's waist, making Heka inexplicably recall a few dwarf jokes.

For instance, how could one tell whether a dwarf joke was funny enough?

Answer: after telling it in a square where dwarves were present, you could feel someone pinch your thigh.

"Hand him over to me."

The dwarf stepped into the middle of the road, then tossed over a shortsword.

The blade clanged against the bricks and stones before finally landing in front of Heka.

"You shameless, despicable wretch! Pick up your weapon, then be killed by me like a warrior."

Heka ignored the dwarf shouting as he ran toward him. The place where the dwarf stood should still be within the ranger's range.

Even if the other side was putting on a righteous one-on-one fight, that did not stop it from being a little scheme to lure him out from cover so the archer behind could shoot him dead.

"Can we reconcile?"

Heka picked up the shortsword from the ground. The good news was that they had not given him the sort of blunt weapon commonly found in dwarven hands, meaning he could at least make use of the panel's 20% damage bonus.

The bad news was that he now had to face two opponents, and they were clearly on guard. As the dwarf charged over, his round shield remained in front of him.

Clearly, he had learned from the lesson of the previous man whose neck had been pierced by an arrow.

The dwarf was fully twice as wide as Heka. The ranger had sealed off the rear, while the dwarf charging from the front wore a full suit of armor.

Because they needed to protect less surface area, dwarven armor was often made from more solid materials. The running dwarf was like a moving short wall.

"Are you joking, brat?"

Heka immediately moved to the side, avoiding a fight near where Tuft of Hair was. To stay out of the ranger's range behind him, Heka had to advance while moving sideways.

This seemed to pique the dwarf's interest. He viciously slammed the mace in his hand against his shield.

Pressed close to the wall, Heka made one final check of the half-orc's position, then charged at the dwarf before him with the shortsword held in his left hand.

Amid the dwarf's red-eyed roar, Heka sent half his body, along with the left hand gripping the shortsword, straight beneath the dwarf's warhammer.

The dwarf clearly did not intend to kill this hateful fellow right away. Seeing that somewhat miserable charge and that utterly amateurish attack—

Confident in his armor, he redirected the hammer that had originally been descending toward Heka's head at Heka's shoulder.