The mercenaries in the first squad instinctively tensed, cold rain mingling with sweat as it ran down their temples.
They gripped their steel crossbows tightly. These military-grade heavy weapons rested in slots in the battlements, their thick limbs gleaming with a metallic sheen.
Behind each mercenary stood a militiaman serving as his assistant, responsible for passing him the heavy armor-piercing bolts.
They were all hardened men who had seen bloody combat, yet the dozen or so ferocious magical beasts below still made their hearts pound with fear.
Through the curtain of rain, an especially powerfully built Gray Swamp Crocodile reached the foot of the wall first.
Its thick limbs brimming with strength, it scrambled nimbly out of the water and onto the bank. Every step shook a mist of water from the ground around it.
Its heavy scales were brownish green, each the size of a palm. The fighting just now had not left a single wound on them.
The giant crocodile opened its jaws, packed with sharp teeth, and gave a low roar, announcing its arrival.
It did not hesitate.
To its eyes, this wall woven from plants was nothing more than a slightly thicker "fence." Its jaws, powerful enough to crush a Rockshatter Rhino's leg bones, could easily smash a gap through it.
The crocodile drove off its hind legs, its entire body surging forward as it slammed viciously into the vine wall directly ahead!
Barrett's hand trembled slightly on his sword hilt.
Old Walker closed his eyes in despair.
Some of the militiamen even let out strangled screams.
The wall did not shatter as they had imagined. No vines snapped, no sap sprayed through the air.
Instead, a deafening crash erupted beneath the wall.
Clang-!
That was not a sound flesh and blood could make by striking a plant.
It sounded more like a giant blacksmith striking an anvil with a well-balanced iron hammer!
Veylin, Barrett, Old Walker, the Grey Wolves, and the militia all looked toward the impact-everyone wanted to know the result.
The blast of air bursting from the point of impact formed a brief, spherical pocket, even driving back the torrential rain.
The once-arrogant Gray Swamp Crocodile was now frozen beneath the wall in an extremely bizarre posture.
A visible dent had caved into its massive head. Dazed by the force of the impact, it toppled uncontrollably sideways and crashed into the muddy water, throwing up an enormous splash.
As for the vine wall that had taken that thunderous blow...
It had merely swayed a little.
At the point of impact, its obsidian-like crystalline skin bore only a patch of white scuff marks. Not even a proper crack had formed-and several sharp leaf blades had actually pierced the crocodile's eyelids.
The entire wall stood silently in the rain, showing not the slightest sign of collapse.
Silence...
Everyone on the wall stared blankly at the giant crocodile struggling in the water below, then at the perfectly intact black wall before them.
"What... what the hell is this thing?"
Barrett's lone eye widened like a brass bell. In disbelief, he ran his hand over the wall he had lived alongside for days, as though seeing these vines for the first time.
Old Walker, still kneeling on the ground, crawled to the wall on his hands and knees. He reached out with his calloused hands and stroked its surface again and again.
Two successive blows to his understanding of the world helped him accept the truth more quickly. He murmured to himself, his disbelief giving way to conviction. "A miracle... this is a creation of miracles..."
The militiamen who had broken down in terror earlier now forgot to flee.
Bracing themselves against the battlements, they leaned out to look at the defensive line that held death at bay. The fear in their eyes slowly turned to bewilderment, then finally to exhilaration.
Veylin ignored the commotion behind him.
His heart was racing, not with fear, but with excitement.
It was the excitement of seeing a painstakingly written thesis unveiled to the world.
This Stone-Skinned Soft Vine was even tougher than he had expected!
Yet the ferocity of these magical beasts exceeded everyone's expectations.
Seeing its companion's charge fail, another giant crocodile did not repeat that foolish act. It crawled up to the wall, opened its gaping jaws, and clamped down on a slightly protruding vine.
Crunch!
Its sharp teeth scraped against the hard wall with a sound that set teeth on edge. Several leaf blades shattered, but the wall held firm.
Just as everyone thought this, too, was futile, every muscle in the crocodile's body suddenly tensed, and it unleashed its deadliest move once again.
Death Roll!
Creak-crrrk-
The vines groaned under the strain. A tremendous twisting force tore at the vines that formed the wall, peeling countless black granules from its surface.
Though they were not immediately twisted apart, the section caught in its jaws visibly loosened and cracked!
This sent Barrett's heart pounding even harder than the earlier impact.
"Damn it! They're tearing down the wall!" Barrett roared. "First squad, fire! Aim for its belly!"
Thrum!
An armor-piercing bolt struck the crocodile's soft belly squarely, but only sank halfway in, failing to inflict a fatal wound.
The pain drove the crocodile into an even wilder roll, while its twisting muscles clamped tightly around the wound.
"My lord! Its hide is too thick! The bolts can't kill it!" Barrett shouted anxiously.
Veylin did not answer immediately. He stared at the Gray Swamp Crocodile, deep in thought.
The crocodile used its iron-vise jaws to perform a Death Roll...
The cracks twisted into the wall...
The bolts that could not pierce its defenses...
Veylin had an idea.
"Stop aiming for the belly. You're wasting bolts. Everyone, prepare barbed bolts with ropes attached!"
Barrett froze for a moment, then understanding dawned. He bellowed the order, and the mercenaries and militiamen scrambled to tie tough ropes to their bolts.
Several more giant crocodiles lunged forward, each following the first crocodile's example.
"Fire!"
Five bolts trailing ropes whistled out, hurtling toward their respective targets.
Yet every shot in the first volley missed. Catching the instant when a crocodile opened its jaws was a challenge for mercenaries who were not trained crossbowmen.
But time was now on the defenders' side. The crocodiles could inflict only limited damage on the wall, and tearing open a passage wide enough to walk through would take them a long time.
After repeated attempts, the Grey Wolves mercenaries finally succeeded.
It was a lucky bolt. It skimmed past the fangs and barely lodged in the ferocious beast's lower jaw.
Roar!
The crocodile snapped its jaws shut in pain.
Squelch!
That bite did not free it from the bolt. Instead, it drove the sharp barbed head deeper, even piercing through its lower jaw!
In agony, it shook its head from side to side, trying to dislodge the damned thing. But the mercenaries had wound the trailing rope around a merlon, and several militiamen were hauling on it with all their strength. Every tug-of-war widened the wound a little more.
The bite force it took such pride in had sentenced it to death!