Chapter 57
That night.
A whistling wind swept through the northern canyons, which were shrouded in deep darkness.
Kalgo, the leader of the exiles, looked at the collapsed section of the wall behind the Northern Rock Tribe's village and smiled wickedly.
"Those stupid brats haven't even managed to repair their wall properly."
Tark's report had been accurate down to the smallest detail.
The opening in the wall was still unrepaired. It was large enough for three or four grown men to walk through side by side.
"I suppose this is what happens when a village is run by children. Their defenses are pathetic. Well done, Tark."
Kalgo patted Tark on the shoulder with a satisfied smile.
Of all the exiles under his command, Tark was one of the more useful ones.
Unlike the other idiots who only knew how to swing their axes, Tark was noticeably smarter and understood instructions. He wasn't unnecessarily talkative, either.
"I'll reward you once this is over."
Kalgo chuckled and gave Tark's shoulder a firm squeeze.
Tark remained silent, secretly swallowing his dry saliva.
He gripped the handle of his axe with a sweaty hand and tried desperately to calm his pounding heart.
His thoughts were entirely occupied by Mokona, his heavily pregnant wife, whom he had left behind in the Rock Tribe's village.
Izak, was it? I've brought them here, just as you asked. What are you going to do now?
Tark was anxiously surveying his surroundings when...
Thud! Crash!
Several small figures suddenly appeared from behind the broken section of the wall.
Tark looked over in surprise.
They were children from the Rock Tribe.
Hiding behind the ruined wall, the children began throwing fist-sized stones at the exiles.
Thwack! Clatter.
One of the stones struck Kalgo's muscular upper body and bounced off harmlessly.
"Enemies! Enemies are invading!"
"You won't take a single step into our village! BARBARIAAAAN!"
The children were shouting with surprisingly determined expressions.
However, to the exiles who had spent their lives wandering the Frontier and plundering settlements, their resistance was nothing more than an amusing performance.
"Kwahahaha! Boss, look at those brats! They're throwing rocks!"
"I thought this was supposed to be a wealthy village. Where are all their steel weapons? Did they sell them and start throwing stones instead? Ah, I get it! They're too young to know how to use weapons!"
Laughter erupted throughout the group.
Even Kalgo stroked his beard in disbelief.
"Children really are just children. If this is the best resistance they can offer, we don't even need the Behemoth."
He spoke indifferently while picking at his ear.
After watching the children put up their pitiful resistance for a moment, he gestured toward his men.
It was the signal to advance.
Watching him, Tark felt cold sweat run down his back.
Don't tell me... Is that really all they've prepared? Did I gamble my wife's life and my unborn child's life on this childish nonsense?
His pupils trembled violently.
The shaman who claimed to have received the Ancestor Spirit's wisdom had assured him that he had a perfect plan before sending him into danger.
Yet all Tark could see was a pathetic display of stone-throwing.
Despair and uncontrollable anger weighed heavily on his chest.
"Now!"
At that very moment, a sharp voice echoed through the canyon.
BOOOOM!
At the signal, the children who had been frantically throwing stones quickly split apart and moved to either side.
At the same time, a figure burst through the opening like a storm.
It was Zakan.
With his greatsword raised high, Zakan charged straight toward the front ranks of the exiles and swung without mercy.
In a single blow, the weapons of the two leading warriors shattered, sending both men sprawling across the ground.
Awoooooo!
Then, from Zakan's shadow, a small black wolf shot forward like lightning, his fur standing on end.
It was Arken, the Divine Beast.
Moving with the incredible speed befitting a Divine Beast, Arken tore at the ankles of the stunned exiles, disrupting their vision and throwing them into confusion.
"Aaaaagh! You little wolf bastard!"
"Reform the ranks! It's an ambush!"
As expected of a group of criminals who had survived countless dangerous encounters, the exiles quickly readied their weapons and attempted to surround Zakan.
However, the moment they stepped forward, the ground beneath their feet shifted unnaturally and collapsed.
CRUNCH! CRACK!
"W-What's happening?!"
They had fallen into the traps Izak had ordered Jack, Olaf, and the children to dig beforehand.
The pits had been cleverly concealed with soil and light branches. Combined with the darkness, their effectiveness had increased several times over.
And at the bottom of those pits were sharp stakes coated with the powerful paralytic sap of the Silver-thread Nettles that Mari and Luna had gathered.
SLASH!
"AAAAAGH! M-My legs!"
"Wh-What is this?! My body... won't move...!"
The potent paralytic poison, capable of incapacitating even large monsters with the slightest contact, rapidly spread through the exiles' lower bodies.
More than a dozen exiles collapsed with their eyes rolling back before they could properly swing their weapons even once.
As the battlefield descended into chaos, the relaxed expression on Kalgo's face twisted into an ugly scowl.
"You arrogant little brats! You dare try to outsmart me?!"
Kalgo instinctively turned toward Tark.
Strangely, however, there was an unsettling amusement in his eyes rather than anger.
"I see. Tark... So you've betrayed me. Why?"
"...!"
Instead of answering, Tark adjusted his grip on his axe and lunged at Kalgo.
CLANG!
Their axes collided with a metallic crash.
Kalgo forced Tark's axe downward with his superior strength, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile.
"You treacherous bastard. Of all the places you could have chosen, you picked this little playground full of brats? Thanks to you, I've found that wealthy village from the rumors without any trouble. Kekeke..."
He raised his voice.
"Release the Behemoth! Trample every last one of them to death!"
At his command, an exile at the rear began untying the ropes restraining the Blood-Armor Behemoth.
Kalgo kicked Tark in the stomach to create some distance between them, then lit the incense burner.
Grrrrrr...!
The enormous Demonic Beast stirred as its restraints were removed.
The Blood-Armor Behemoth slowly rose to its feet.
Kalgo quickly drew a knife across his palm and smeared his blood over the outside of the incense burner.
Immediately, thick purple smoke began pouring from it.
Kalgo closed his eyes and issued his command to the Behemoth.
"Kill every last one of those Rock Tribe brats, the traitor Tark, and his wife! Tear them apart and devour them!"
The Behemoth's eyes grew hazy.
It was just about to kick off the ground and carry out Kalgo's command when...
Izak, who had been watching the situation, kicked something covered in a leather sack toward the monster.
"Mooooooo!"
It was the Crunch-Crunch Moo Grass Flower.
Izak had deliberately starved the cow-headed plant all day for this operation, leaving it desperately hungry.
With its eyes practically rolling back from hunger, the Moo Grass Flower let out a loud bellow and opened its enormous mouth.
Then it pulled out a Corn Turkey, the Behemoth's favorite food, and began waving it enticingly.
Sway, sway.
The Corn Turkey dangling from the tip of the Moo Grass Flower's tongue had even been completely plucked and prepared.
"Grrrr...?"
Just as the Behemoth was about to move, its head slowly turned toward the irresistible, savory smell of meat.
Its nostrils twitched.
Its blood-red eyes became fixed on the turkey bait inside the Moo Grass Flower's mouth.
