Spectre of the Sinner - Chapter 4 part 4: Military diplomacy at work-on a private level, at least

Piles of [Goblyn] corpses strewn messily everywhere, with many of them smashed into unrecognizable bits of flesh and bones, seemingly caked into the dirt. Uprooted shrubs and small trees were randomly scattered around, decorating the battlefield with a sense of desolation. True to the foreigner’s information, 4 massive [Ogre] corpses could be observed mixed in with their deceased mortal enemies, underscoring the madness of the extraordinary episode.

In the center of the horrifically bloody battleground, the remnants of the [Ogre] troop congregated around the few carcasses of what I suspected to be a family of the legendarily rare [Mokele-Tappario]. The wounded were being tended to by other brethren, while the worse offs received extensive care, evident by the amount of discarded makeshift bandages.

Stunned by such a remarkable scene, soon flabbergasted whispers rippled throughout the ranks of both the knights and the adventurers alike, threatening to ruin this operation even before it began. As I hurriedly calmed the waves of agitation, the outlander to my right seemed to momentarily space out a bit before resuming his preparations for the clash. Intrigued by his fiddling around with his equipment, I hurriedly wrapped up my preparation, occasionally pushing away a random branch of shrubbery in annoyance.

After the warfighter put down a small dark green cylindrical canister dotted with holes exposing a metallic core, an utterly bizarre scene unfurled before my eyes. Unfolding from the left thigh, 2 flaps of metal opened like a door, revealing a storage-like cavity inside the prosthetic leg. The man unscrewed the black cylinder in front of the barrel, pushed the 2 buttons located just forward of the storage box, pulled out the metal pipe attached to his weapon, put it into the storage, pulled out a similar but shorter metal cylinder from the cavity, slotted it back in his armament, and screwed the black cylinder onto the tube. Every action was proficiently done as if it was the most natural course of action to take, indicating how much training the man had undergone to master it. Afterward, the metallic flaps closed, returning the original look to the prosthetic.

Noticing that the whole group was gawking at him, the foreigner heaved an exasperated sigh before glaring at us while he picked up the canister. Somehow I even imagined his frowning face beneath that uncanny helmet, especially with that black glass-like visor protecting his eyes.

“My apologies, I don’t think that we have the luxury of time to spend ogling at me like that,” Mister [An] pulled out the oversized ring located at one end of the canister before readying to throw it with his left arm, “are we going in kill them all or let those sons of a bitch live to fight another day?”

Flustered by his harsh censures, everyone readied their weapons and spells. A quiet harmony of spell-casting chants rustled the tree line, creating an illusion of a particularly breezy day. As our spell invocation was close to being finished, the soldier hurled the green canister toward monsters.

A flash of light erupted amid the troop, followed by a ringing pop, greatly disorienting the monstrous [Ogres]. It was quickly followed by a rain of spells of various elements, producing a flashy firework of death and destruction that otherwise would satisfy the public on the [Kingdom Founding Day].

Roars of agony reverberated across the space, almost deafening us. The smell of burnt flesh faintly wafted through the air, which was soon blown away when another round of spellcasting was launched at them, knocking several of the gigantic [Ogres] down. Despite being impaled, skewered, burnt, shot at, and electrocuted, the infuriating tenacity of the species was displayed in full glory, for their footsteps hastened into a mad charge at us, accompanied by wrathful snarls, howls, and roars.

Not to be outdone by the monsters, our reply came swift and brutal: after releasing the final volley of arrows, the frontline-oriented fighters rushed in with their weapons, ready to swing at the humanoid beasts. A violent confrontation between two species exploded, drawing its participants into a frenzied life-or-death struggle that had been going on since time immemorial.

Desperately holding my great shield to tank a swing from an [Ogre], I spied an opportunity to counterattack as the monster lost its balance. After I exchanged a brief nod with my [Dilma], my longsword sunk its blade into the beast’s flank while her spear tip pierced the creature’s chest. Because the brute had received the full brunt of magical attacks beforehand, its gigantic frame started to kneel, squirting out pained grunts while blood oozed out of its most recent wounds.

The [Ogre’s] fate was sealed by a finishing cleave, allowing both of us to concentrate on the next foe. As I darted my eyes around in search of the next opponent, the figure of the foreign soldier caught my attention.

By constantly dashing in and out of the action, he sowed the seed of confusion amongst the monsters’ ranks, distracting them from devoting themselves to their respective deathmatches. One moment he was aiming his [Long Gun] at the back of an attacking monster, bloodily and accurately ripping it apart as if he was delivering thousands of knife cuts, allowing the female adventurers of the [Blooming Lilium] to deal the death blow; the next moment, he was slipping underneath the deadly reach of another brawler, embarrassing the massive humanoid beast by boring holes into the monster’s jugular area, leaving behind a shower of brass. Suddenly his weapon stopped spewing fire, forcing him to quickly draw the palm-fitting [Small Gun] while he punted the monster’s shin, causing it to kneel one-sidedly. After rapidly dumping projectiles into the [Ogre’s] chest and forehead with terrifying precision, Mister [An] brandished his sand-colored instrument of war in our direction after replacing the storage box with a fresh one, which spooked both of us greatly.

“Hostile incoming, prepare for impact,” the inhuman voice announcement jolted us awake from the stupor, just in time for a ferocious roar to erupt beside us, “you two lay low, quick!”

As [Dilma] tackled me to the ground, I finally saw the culprit that forced the foreign warfighter to act that drastically. The assaulting [Ogre] was rapidly ripped apart, spewing blood from its already battered body. Being distracted from the pair of prey, the gray-skinned massive humanoid beast directed its wrath at the interloper, forcing him to steadily walk backward as he kept up his impressively accurate marksmanship.

After hurriedly recomposing ourselves, just as the stream of muffled cracks went silent, we sprang into action immediately, not letting the monster have any chance to retaliate against the warfighter. Perhaps due to the rising anger at myself for allowing myself to be needlessly distracted, a considerable amount of force was applied to my blade, for the brutish beast’s head was viciously lopped off. My sister-in-law followed up by spearing the flying head in midair and angrily flung it into the ground, which both of us stomped on in unison.

By the time we finished our petty unknightly revenge against the cursed [Ogre], Mister [An] had already continued his relentless disrupting effort, robbing me of the chance to offer my gratitude.

“Sis, I mean Mistress [von Wagner-Kukulins],” the female knight covered her slip up by desperately hiding behind her knightly manner, “we need to stay vigilant, for the enemies are still aggressive.”

I briefly nodded in assent at her reminder about the task at hand as I sent my thoughts and prayers to the soldier.