Chapter 66: Battle At The Foot Of The Mountain

The forest was cloaked in darkness, thick with shadows and twisted branches that seemed to close in from all sides. The perfect setting for an ambush. The Protectors had their weapons drawn, and their eyes darted from side to side, scanning the eerie forest around them. Tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Niko’s territory wasn’t just hostile—it was alive, and it was waiting for them.

Leading the group was the handsome Protector, Darius, his skill [Bronze Shield] activated. He held the large, circular shield ahead of him, the ornate bronze surface catching the dim light that broke through the canopy. It was an impressive defense, and it seemed to bolster the confidence of the five remaining Protectors who followed behind him.

“We’ll flush them out,” Darius muttered, his eyes narrowing as they pressed deeper into the forest.

The deeper they moved into the territory, the more it became apparent that the trees themselves seemed to conspire with the spirits. The thick canopy above blocked out much of the sunlight, casting the path in front of them in uneven patches of light and shadow. It was as if the forest itself was aiding Niko, creating the perfect conditions for the ambush that was to come.

Suddenly, with a guttural hiss, several ratmen spirits lunged from the trees, their sharp claws and teeth flashing in the dim light. They descended on the Protectors from all angles, striking with the ferocity of wild animals. Darius was quick to react, raising his [Bronze Shield] and bracing for the attack. His shield absorbed the slashes and bites, the bronze ringing out as the spirits assaulted him from all sides.

However, the other Protectors weren’t as fortunate. Two of them, slower to react, were overtaken by the spirits. One screamed as a ratman’s jagged blade pierced his face, the sound of his agony cut short by the brutal force of the attack. The other fell back as a spirit slashed at his throat, blood spurting out in a violent arc before he crumpled to the ground, twitching and gasping.

Hidden behind the cover of trees, Niko grimaced as he felt the connection to five of his spirits sever in a matter of moments. The loss hit him hard; each spirit was valuable, and to lose them so quickly was painful. However, the sacrifice had been worth it. He had taken out two Protectors and wounded another, leaving only five standing, with one already injured. The Protectors cursed under their breath as they regrouped, pushing through the remaining spirits with a mixture of fear and rage.

Darius, his shield raised high, barked orders to the others. "Stick together! Don’t let them pick us off!"

Just as they were beginning to regain their footing, another burst of light exploded from the side, a familiar blinding flash. This time, Darius was ready. His [Bronze Shield] moved like a well-oiled machine, intercepting the light and protecting his group from being blinded.

Out of the shadows, Fumito charged forward, his massive, rusty sword held high above his head. With a loud battle cry, he brought it down with all his might. The sword clanged violently against Darius’ shield, the impact creating a deafening bang that reverberated through the forest. The force of the blow left the Protectors momentarily disoriented, their ears ringing from the sudden sound. Darius, however, stood firm, though the strain of holding off the attack was evident in the way his arms trembled behind his shield.

Darius was confident, his other skill called [Immense Strength] always allowed his shield to be an unmovable and impenetrable wall. All of his previous battles ended quickly, as they were unable to penetrate his skill combos.

One of The Protectors, a man wielding a glowing blue knife, saw an opening, his [Blue Sharpness] Skill ready to aid him in battle. He darted forward, aiming for Fumito’s unprotected side. His knife gleamed brighter with a blue light, the sharp edge ready to tear through flesh. But before he could strike, a figure dropped from the trees above him. Zheng, his face hidden behind a tribal mask, slammed into the Protector, his purple claws swiping through the air. The Protector barely managed to block in time, the knife clashing against Zheng’s claws as sparks flew from the impact.

Fumito lunged forward, his oversized sword cutting through the air with a thunderous whoosh, aiming directly at Darius. His arms trembled with raw power, veins bulging beneath the crimson hue of his flesh. The activation of [Arms of the Demi-Titan] transformed his already impressive physique into a force of nature, every muscle in his body vibrating with energy. His strikes were not just powerful—they were relentless, each one capable of shattering bones and tearing through defenses like paper.

Darius gritted his teeth, gripping his bronze shield tightly as it reverberated from the impact of Fumito’s last blow. The cocky grin he had worn at the start of the battle had vanished, replaced by a grim set to his jaw. His breathing was heavy, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his brow. His polished armor, once gleaming under the sunlight, now bore the marks of Fumito’s unyielding assault—dents and scratches etched into the surface like battle scars.

Fumito pressed forward, his footfalls shaking the ground beneath them. He swung again, this time with a diagonal slash aimed at Darius’ side. The sword’s edge shimmered with a faint red aura, an echo of the Demi-Titan’s strength-enhancing his every move.

CLANG!

Darius barely managed to intercept the attack with his shield, but the force behind it drove him back several paces. He dug his heels into the dirt, his teeth clenched as he fought to maintain his footing. The impact rippled through his arms, numbing them momentarily. He glanced down at his shield, noticing the deep groove etched into its surface—a testament to Fumito’s overwhelming strength.

“This... isn’t possible,” Darius muttered under his breath, his confidence wavering. He had underestimated his opponent. This wasn’t just some low-level adventurer wielding brute force. Fumito was calculated, and his synergy with his skills made him far more dangerous than his level suggested.

Fumito’s eyes locked onto Darius, a determined fire burning within them. He wasn’t fighting for glory or pride—he was fighting for survival, for the people who stood beside him. Each strike he delivered carried the weight of that purpose.

“You’re not as untouchable as you thought, Protector,” Fumito growled, his voice rough but steady. He adjusted his grip on his sword, the massive blade resting across his shoulders. “What’s the matter? Losing your nerve?”

Darius sneered but didn’t respond. Instead, he raised his shield again and shifted his stance, bracing himself for the next assault. His eyes flicked briefly toward the other battles raging around them, but Fumito gave him no time to strategize.

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With a guttural roar, Fumito charged once more, his sword descending like a hammer. This time, Darius sidestepped, attempting to counter with a swift thrust of his short sword.

Fumito anticipated the move. Twisting his body mid-swing, he brought the flat side of his blade up, deflecting Darius’ sword with a resounding clang. The force of the block sent vibrations up both their arms, but Fumito recovered faster. He pivoted on his heel, bringing his sword around in a sweeping arc that forced Darius to leap back or be cleaved in two.

Darius landed with a grunt, his chest heaving. He was strong—there was no denying that—but Fumito was relentless, giving him no room to breathe. His strategy of wearing Fumito down had backfired; instead, it was he who found himself on the defensive.

“You think you’re strong because of that fancy shield?” Fumito taunted, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “You’re just hiding behind it. Face me without it, and we’ll see how long you last.”

Darius’ eyes narrowed, the taunt striking a nerve. He adjusted his stance but kept his shield up, refusing to be baited. “You’re strong,” he admitted, his voice steady despite the strain. “But strength without discipline is just chaos.”

“We’ll see,” Fumito replied, his grin widening. He surged forward again, his sword a blur of motion.

The next clash was deafening. Sparks flew as Fumito’s sword met Darius’ shield once more, the sheer force causing the ground beneath them to crack. Darius strained against the pressure, his legs shaking. He had never encountered this kind of overwhelming strength at such a “low” level.

Suddenly, Fumito shifted tactics. Instead of continuing his frontal assault, he feinted left and brought his sword down in a powerful overhead swing. Darius raised his shield instinctively, but Fumito had anticipated the move. He twisted his body at the last second, slamming his shoulder into Darius’ exposed side.

“Ugh!” Darius gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs. He staggered, momentarily disoriented.

Meanwhile, chaos erupted across the battlefield as the remaining Protectors found themselves overwhelmed by a sudden surge of enemies. Eight more ratmen spirits emerged from the shadows, their ethereal forms flickering in the dim light. Leading them was a towering, more vicious ratman spirit, its grotesque snarl revealing jagged teeth. Its aura was palpable, radiating an intense, almost oppressive energy that immediately set it apart from the others. The sword it wielded gleamed with the same eerie rusted hue as Fumito’s, its edge jagged but deadly.

The Protectors hesitated for a brief moment, their confidence shaken by the sheer numbers now pressing in on them. They had expected to deal with a few stragglers—simple, mindless spirits—but what they were facing now was something far more organized. These weren’t just summoned entities; they were a coordinated force, moving with purpose.

“Hold your ground!” one of the Protectors barked, his voice strained but authoritative. His sword flickered with a faint blue glow, a skill-enhanced weapon designed to cut through spirit energy. He lunged forward, slicing through the first ratman spirit, its form dissipating into a wave of spiritual energy.

Yet for every spirit they cut down, two more seemed to take its place. The ratmen spirits moved with an unsettling grace, darting between the Protectors with agility that belied their monstrous forms. Their glowing red eyes flickered with intelligence, a far cry from the mindless beasts the Protectors were used to fighting.

The larger ratman spirit led the charge, roaring as it swung its massive sword in wide arcs, forcing two Protectors to leap back. The ground beneath their feet trembled with the force of its strikes, the reverberations rattling their bones.

“This isn’t just some random spirit horde,” one of the Protectors muttered, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. “They’re coordinated... like they’re following orders.”

Another Protector, a woman with cat airs and a tail wielding twin daggers, gritted her teeth as she ducked beneath a ratman’s swipe, slashing upward in a fluid motion that severed its arm. Her [Cat Body] skills showed its advanced flexibility and instinct, however, she seemed worried with each passing second.

Their movements grew more frantic as the battle dragged on. The clash of steel and spirit energy filled the air with a frenzied rhythm—swords clanging, ethereal bodies dissipating into dark mist, and the occasional grunt or cry of pain. The forest around them seemed to shrink, the towering trees casting long, shifting shadows that danced in the flickering light of the battle.

The Protectors fought valiantly, their skills honed from countless battles, but the relentless tide of spirits wore them down. The larger ratman spirit proved to be the greatest challenge. Its swings were wide and devastating, forcing the Protectors to constantly stay on the defensive. Every time one of them moved to flank it, a smaller ratman spirit would intercept, blocking their path and forcing them into one-on-one skirmishes.

"Watch your left!" a Protector shouted, narrowly deflecting a blow meant for his companion. His shield arm trembled under the force of the impact, but he held firm.

The larger ratman roared again, swinging its sword down in a brutal overhead strike. A Protector raised his shield just in time, the force of the blow driving him to his knees. The ethereal weapon cracked his shield, splintering it with a deafening crunch. Before the ratman could deliver a finishing blow, another Protector dove in, thrusting his sword into the creature’s side.

The ratman hissed, black mist seeping from the wound, but it didn’t falter. Instead, it retaliated with a ferocious backhanded swing, sending the Protector flying several feet into a tree. He hit the trunk with a sickening thud and slumped to the ground, groaning in pain.

“We’re losing ground!” the dagger-wielding Protector shouted, her voice tinged with desperation. “If we don’t regroup, we’re done for!”

But retreat wasn’t an option. They were being funneled, forced into tighter spaces where the ratmen could use their numbers to overwhelm them. The Protectors’ once-coordinated attacks became disjointed, each one fighting desperately to stay alive.

In the midst of the chaos, the larger ratman spirit raised its sword high, bellowing a guttural roar that seemed to shake the very air around them. The other spirits responded in kind, their attacks growing even more frenzied.

Despite their training and experience, the Protectors began to falter. Fatigue set in, their breathing ragged, their movements slower. The ratmen spirits, however, showed no signs of tiring. They were relentless, driven by a purpose the Protectors couldn’t yet comprehend.

In the shadows, Niko and Ivanic stood side by side, observing the fight from a safe distance. They communicated silently, their minds connected through Ivanic’s skill. There was no need for words as they watched the tide of battle slowly shift in their favor. The Protectors, despite their strength and training, were being overwhelmed by the sheer number of spirits and the brutal coordination of Fumito and Zheng.

In a matter of minutes, it was over. The once-proud Protectors lay scattered across the forest floor, their bodies broken and bloodied. Darius knelt in the center of it all, his [Bronze Shield] cracked and battered, his once-gleaming armor stained with dirt and blood. Cuts and bruises marred his skin, and blood trickled down his face as he struggled to catch his breath.

Fumito and Zheng stood before him, their expressions cold and unforgiving. There was no pity in their eyes, only the ruthless determination that had carried them through battle after battle. Darius looked up at them, his body trembling from exhaustion, and murmured, "You’re making a mistake. This… this won’t end well for you."

At that moment, Niko and Ivanic stepped out from the shadows, walking calmly towards the defeated Protector. Niko’s face was a mask of indifference as he shook his head. "You Protectors are frauds," he said, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. "A cancer to humanity. You pretend to fight for the good of mankind, but all you do is serve yourselves."

Darius gritted his teeth, too weak to argue. His head hung low in shame and defeat, his body giving out as he knelt in the dirt.

Niko turned to leave, but not before summoning one final spirit. The air shimmered as the Steampunk Bee materialized beside him, its stinger gleaming in the dim light. With a low hum, it zipped through the air towards Darius. The Protector barely had time to react before the bee’s stinger pierced his chest with deadly precision. His eyes widened in shock as he let out a final, choking gasp, then collapsed to the ground.

As Niko walked away, a faint glow surrounded him, signaling his level up. He could feel the power coursing through his body, a tangible reward for the victory he had just claimed. But as the adrenaline faded, his mind began to turn once more. There was still so much to think about, so much to plan. This battle had been won, but the war was far from over.