Blocking the incoming kick with his forearm, John tried to take a step forward to enter into his target's guard. Sadly, the annoying man turned the kick into a shove and pushed himself back and slightly up.
"Fuck," John cursed, feeling the pang of imminent danger as a gleaming blade of the lance rapidly approached his left shoulder from an overhead swipe. He tried to block with his javelin, but unfortunately, his reaction came too late and the heavier weapon was coming from a difficult angle and with too much momentum to be blocked.
It collided with a loud clang and his javelin got pushed down as the edge twisted sideways and lost a significant part of its strength just before it smashed on top of his shoulder, right next to his neck.
"That's another death blow," Galan'il announced and a small smile briefly bloomed across his face. "Got enough?"
The surrounding Aerilians cheered for yet another victory of their favorite champion, but John refused to give in.
"Again!"
"Very well," the Knight-Protector skillfully twirled the massive weapon in a complicated pattern. "Are you ready?"
"Mhm," John nodded, grasped his javelin like a spear, and rushed in.
He had an advantage in attributes, mostly in Vitality which coupled with his self-recovery cards made most minor and medium injuries irrelevant, but the problem was the lack of experience. Out of the dozens of spars between them, he only won once, and that was only due to his almost suicidal maneuver, where he let the lance bite deep in his side to deliver a stab to the center of Galan'il's chest.
After that, the Knight-Protector adjusted his strategy, only fully committing to blows they considered fatal, thus managing to repeatedly claim one victory after another.
If I could use my stiletto, I could sneak a couple more hits in, but yeah… rules are the rules, John lamented after yet another loss.
"Again?" Galan'il asked, but before John gave his agreement, they were interrupted by a messenger whom he had noticed to arrive a minute ago.
"Sirs, we just got word from the second scouting company that the native army is on the move north," the Aerilian man in the yellow robe bowed.
Finally!
After the previous delegation left, John found nothing else to do but sit and wait. At first, he deliberated leaving and finishing the challenge for the second time, but after a short discussion with the prince, he promised to stay. He would remain here until either the shelter finished its promotion or the joined effort of the enemy shelters arrived. Luckily, Galan'il offered to spar, helping him hone his increased reflexes and build a small foundation for his combat arts.
Hmm, will they even arrive on time?
"Hey, do you know how long until the shelter turns into a bastion?"
Both he and Galan'il glanced at the messenger, who smiled and gave them good news.
"If no hostile entities enter the perimeter, the upgrade will finish in twenty-three minutes."
Yep, there is no chance for them to make it. I wonder what is going to happen, though, John thought, looking at Galan'il. When he asked about it before their spar, he was told to wait and enjoy the surprise, so…
"Good," the man nodded and extended his palm toward John. "Thank you for the spar, it was an interesting experience."
"Likewise," John smiled. "I feel much more in sync with my freshly evolved attributes."
He watched as the younger champion followed after the messenger and the small crowd that formed around them began to disperse.
"John," Galan'il stopped and shouted over his shoulder. "Do you want to join my group outside? It seems that we are tasked to intercept the natives' forward scouts and block off any access to the outer perimeter of our shelter."
Should I join in? He briefly pondered, fully expecting a violent conflict as being likely outcome. What made him decide was the memory of a group of bastards wearing the blue ribbons tied around their biceps and he steeled his resolve and followed after him.
"Gladly."
They met two six-man squads already waiting outside the south gate and together marched out.
"Sir, the latest report indicates a group of fifteen heading around the left side of the castle. We should be contacted by the fourth scouting squad as we make our way south and gain more fresh intel."
John remained jogging next to Galan'il, listening to the report and scanning the streets for any unexpected movements.
"There," pointed one of the Aerilians with a long bow slung over his back.
What? John squinted his eyes in the direction the man pointed but despite his higher Perception was unable to spot anything out of place.
Sure, the fact that it was roughly two hours after midnight didn't help, but the clear sky and a full moon should be giving enough light to see even for those who lacked the night vision cards. John did have one but still wasn't able to spot anyone in there.
Only after they passed halfway there, did he notice a movement before them. Someone was waving at them in a clear sign of come inside, from a balcony on the first floor of one of the houses lining up the left side of the street.
Turning at the correct entrance, they ascended the stairs and were guided by a cloaked figure standing before the third door on the right.
"How did you spot him from that distance?" John asked the ranger.
"A combination of body-modification cards. I am the Spotter of my squad, so that is what I am equipped to do."
"I see," John nodded and thanked him for the clarification.
Leaving Galan'il to talk with the hidden sentry, he stayed outside with the majority of the two squads.
"Is that how you operate?" He followed up. "A six-man squad where everyone has their role?"
"Yes, there are always six roles, Spotter, Guardian, Enhancer, Arcanist, Predator, and Tactician, and our people have specialized decks fitting each of them, maximizing our strengths while having our weaknesses covered by the other members."
"Interesting. What does the predator do?" John asked, unable to keep a grin from his face.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
"Oh, I kill the important targets," a jovial voice answered from his left.
Turning he looked up to the youthful face of a man with short blonde hair.
"And what about you? If you don't mind me asking. Is it true that you killed the Sector Overlord on your own?" Joined into the conversation a woman who looked like in her early twenties with shoulder-length black hair.
"Yes, it is," John began explaining, but was interrupted by Galan'il who burst through the open door.
"Move, we have our first target!" The Knight-Protector commanded. "It is a five-man group of negligible strength spotted hiding in a house three streets from here."
For Jack's sake, he explained the rules, but it mostly came down to this: ignore the natives' presence pretend to be only passing by, and use deadly force when necessary.
Acting like a bored patrol, they made their way through the correct street until the entrance with a description number one hundred sixty-seven. There, they took a sharp left and rushed inside.
According to the plan, one squad remained on the ground floor, paying attention to anyone trying to escape through the windows or jumping down the balconies, and the second squad with Galan'il and John continued up to the second floor.
Previously, the two Spotters overtly shared the group's movement behind a middle window of the second floor, so now they had a good place to begin their search.
The guardian and the Knight-Protector took the lead, kicking the door and barreling inside.
The rest followed, but before John even made his way through the hallway, the sounds of the scuffle were dying down, leaving behind frightened whimpers or pained grunts.
"Where is the fifth scout?" Shouted a lean woman man dubbed as Tactician, but before they got any answers, a cry coming from below announced his presence.
A woman with sharp eyes who acted as this squad's Tactician pulled out a silver bottle with an odd squiggle on its label and began walking among the captured natives, forcing a single drop of an amber liquid into their mouths.
"What is that?" John asked as he watched them fall unconscious shortly after ingesting the small dose.
"A strong and fast-acting sleeping potion," the cheery Predator explained from the side. "Unless they have at least E-grade Vitality and increased resistance from the cards, they will remain unconscious for exactly five hours."
"Huh, that's… handy."
"Yup," he nodded. "Not everyone deserves to be killed."
"Pick them up and move out," Galan'il commanded after seeing the last woman fall asleep, and they left the house and joined the squad downstairs. The fifth one was already folded over one's shoulder and they moved back to the house where they met with the invisible scout.
There, they placed the immobile survivors into the scout's care and obtained new intel. Apparently, the group of fifteen was making their way north and would most likely be passing through this street in the next five minutes.
"Well, how do you want to do it?" John asked, curious about their battle strategy.
"We will split into two groups. One will hide over there," Galan'il pointed at a particularly large terrace overlooking the street from the first floor of that brown house on the left, and the other will pretend to be caught off guard during their patrol."
John once again stayed with the first squad and waited for the signal in the middle of the street.
To keep himself calm, he rechecked the positions of his minions. Stiletto at the waist… check. Storm Wisp hidden high above… check. Desert Wraith hidden inside the housing unit with the terrace… hopefully, check.
It was tethering on the maximum allowed range, which turned out to be a bit more than he expected, somewhere between one hundred and one hundred and twenty meters.
A powerful flash of light briefly painted the entire street red, but before John asked what had happened, Galan'il gave them the answer.
"Our task is complete. The promotion just finished, so we can…"
"The natives are almost here!" Their Spotter interrupted, making the Knight-Protector hesitate and then nod.
"We can't risk leaving the second squad hidden behind us, move!"
Trusting their leader, everyone began slowly marching south and making a show of their nonchalance. John, falling into his own role, took the lead and acted as if he was serving as their guide.
In five seconds, the first pair of humans rounded the corner and stepped into view.
It's really them, he frowned, noticing the light-colored armbands tied around their biceps. By the reactions, at least one of the pair had to have a night-vision card as well, because they both came to a sudden halt and a moment later the rest of their group came into view.
"Hey," John shouted while waving his hand in a greeting. "Are you part of the group from Valiant's Stand?"
Slowing down, the eight of them acted uncertain and waited for the natives' reaction.
I bet they will take us for easy prey and press on.
"Hey," the leader of their group waved back. "Yes, thank the gods you are here! We got separated and two of our group got wounded by a pack of Rothounds. Can you help us? They are right over there," he pointed in the direction they came from.
"We can take a look," John promised, gesturing for the squad to follow him. "And don't worry about the Aerilians, they are our friends."
Moving forward until they passed half of the distance between them and the hidden squad, Galan'il joined in the conversation.
"Something feels off…" he hissed, gesturing at the arrayed people at the end of the street. "Are you sure they are from the same group?"
They stopped and began arguing, but as John kept his attention on the group before them, he easily spotted the signs of annoyance mixed with uncertainty and anger.
"Hurry up! They…" the leader tried to lure them closer, giving John a perfect opportunity to counter with a question.
"Tell me, what is the full name of Blackfist, one of our shelter's leaders?"
"Too smart for your own good," the man's tone morphed from friendly into derisive. "Surrender and we will spare your life."
"And what about them?" John asked with a nod behind him.
"Leave one or two alive for questioning, kill the rest," the man shrugged and all fifteen of them charged.
A bad choice, John shook his head and began backing away.
Together the eight of them were now carefully walking backwards and luring the other group into the ambush. It was when they passed under the second squad, Galan'il yelled out a simple command.
"Attack!"
An utter devastation… that was what John would describe coming next.
First, the Enhancer lady on his left used a pair of abilities, enveloping the silent Arcanist in a bluish glow, and he subsequently conjured a blob of tar-like substance, lobbing it to the center of the natives' group.
A similar, yet red-colored flash briefly appeared up on the terrace at roughly the same time, and next followed an angry-red ball of flames hitting the same spot.
John, unwilling to risk holding back, sent commands to all three minions and watched a golden streak zip forward and a myriad of other abilities falling on the, now very panicking natives.
As if on cue, an ice wall lifted itself behind them, blocking the other end of the street, and a translucent bubble popped around John and the rest of their group.
A couple of desperate abilities harmlessly splashed against its buoyant surface and then came a short moment of calm.
Their opening salvo spent, they remained inside the bubble and watched as the hungry flames lit up the sticky tar which flared up and began filling the center of the street with thick black smoke.
"Damn," John mumbled, watching a pair of survivors later stumble around their bubble, coughing and desperately trying to get out of the burning smoke.
As suddenly as it came, the thick black cloud vanished half a minute later, revealing the unmoving corpses before them.
"Regroup and fall back!" Galan'il shouted, and soon after, the second squad was leaving the house and marching toward them.
"What about those two?" John asked, nodding at the only two survivors who managed to crawl outside and we're now wheezing on the ground and having trouble catching breath.
"Leave them," the Knight-Protector decided. "We gave them a chance, and they repaid us with treachery and hate. Now they can serve as an example."
"Hmm," John frowned. "Don't you think this was too much, though? Won't it cause problems for your people in the future?"
"It doesn't matter anymore, there will be dozens of invaders doing far, far worse," Galan'il shook his head. "Besides, their window of opportunity has closed and the strength in numbers is about to become obsolete. Come, let me show you why Ulian'al was so desperate to obtain the promotion card before us."