Our Family Has Fallen

"You're courting death!"

Just as the tentacle was about to stretch out, a burst of gunfire from the side made its owner instinctively pull it back to defend.

"Fool! Taste the bite of bullets!" Dismas raised his musket and fired, the bullet instantly locking onto the One-eyed's head.

Although the Lead Bullet was blocked by the tentacle, it finally tore through its flesh, causing damage.

It could block one shot, but does he know what an army is?

The Musketeers, having reloaded, had already raised their muskets and locked onto the monster.

"Target the monster, fire!" Dismas shouted, and as his words fell, a volley of gunfire erupted.

This time, Dismas watched the monster's body, observing where the shots landed.

Damn it, we missed the scattered, moving targets earlier, but now with such a large stationary target and hundreds of guns, at least half should hit!

As expected, the intense gunfire, although only breaking the skin, forced the One-eyed to use its tentacles defensively, rendering it unable to continue attacking the soldiers.

Their objective was achieved. The squad of Musketeers quickly reassembled, casualties were evacuated, the breach in their lines was filled, the formation stabilized, and the spearmen raised their weapons again to stab at the heretics.

The spearmen managed to buy themselves some time. Now it's our turn!

Hamlet never abandons its comrades!

Reynard certainly noticed the brutal scene, but he didn't make a move. He trusted his teammates, instead focusing his gaze on the heretics trying to break through the musket line and flee.

"Cavalry Squad, charge!" Reynard pointed with his longsword, and his horse immediately surged forward.

The dozen or so cavalrymen following him drew their weapons and charged. Although they said nothing, their hearts were already filled with intense emotion, and power surged through their bodies.

How could a person outrun a horse without Supernatural Power, especially in such an open area?

Those heretics didn't lack the will to resist; they were simply unarmed and no match for the cavalry—unable to outrun or outfight them.

Reynard rode past, a head with a fear-stricken face soared into the sky, blood spraying onto him and leaving traces on his armor.

Just one charge was enough to slaughter those desperate heretics. He alone cut down three, and his treasured sword, though steeped in blood, remained unstained.

Reynard couldn't help but sigh. Such a fine sword... he had never been qualified to use one like it before. Even if he had acquired it, he would have had to surrender it to the Church. Yet, My Lord had actually given it to him.

I must prepare a gift for My Lord.

Reynard turned his horse, his eyes instantly locking onto the monster. Today, I will use your blood to truly christen this blade!

"Cavalry Squad, secure the perimeter! Don't let a single heretic escape!"

With that, he spurred his horse and charged forward alone, shouting, "All units, spread out! Drag the bodies away! Treat the wounded!"

While he dealt with the heretics escaping on the periphery, Balistan and Dismas had engaged the monster. The remaining heretics were killed by the soldiers, leaving only the monster surrounded.

These officers, having been blessed by My Lord, could withstand the monster, but ordinary men could not.

He vividly remembered My Lord's instruction: these heretics could consume flesh and blood to feed the Aberrant Demon within them, gaining strength and healing their injuries. To defeat them, they had to employ a scorched-earth strategy, giving the creature no chance to recover.

At this point, more numbers would be useless. It's better to have them withdraw so we can fight without restraint.

At his command, soldiers swiftly carried out their orders, clearing out the area, leaving only Balistan and Dismas fighting the monster.

But now, Reynard had arrived.

Reynard took a spear from a spearman's hands and charged towards the monster. He had no intention of slowing down; instead, he kicked his horse's flanks to accelerate. The warhorse neighed, its speed towards the monster increasing with every moment.

The One-eyed, of course, noticed the approaching Reynard. It instinctively wanted to use its tentacles to strike first, but it couldn't forget the two other formidable opponents nearby.

"Monster, your opponent is here!" Balistan roared, swinging his warhammer.

Dismas was far from just watching. With a pistol in his left hand and a short sword in his right, he kept the monster wary. He deliberately held back from firing the pistol, while his short sword slashed and thrust, forcing the tentacles to recoil.

And at that very moment, Reynard arrived.

Lance charge!

The spear, couched at his side, channeled the terrifying power of his high-speed charge. With deft control, Reynard plunged it directly into the creature's back, piercing through its body and pinning it at an angle to the ground.

Dismas keenly seized the opening. The musket he had held back was finally pressed against the monster's head. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

BANG!

A decisive strike!

When the smoke cleared, the monster's tentacle-arm drooped lifelessly. The creature was half-kneeling, a spear protruding from its back, pinning it to the ground. Half its head had burst open, brain matter splattered everywhere.

Overwhelmed by the three-against-one assault, the monster finally collapsed.

This scene drew cheers from the soldiers. They had defeated the monster and successfully protected Hamlet!

Reynard dismounted, longsword in hand, and approached to decapitate the beast. But unexpectedly, the drooping tentacles, like lurking vipers, suddenly lashed out.

An ordinary person might have been caught off guard, but Reynard was battle-hardened. He had approached cautiously to deliver the killing blow, so he reacted instantly, altering the angle of his swinging longsword to strike forcefully at the tentacle.

The difference in weaponry was clear. The sharp "Champion's Proof," combined with Reynard's explosive strength, effortlessly severed the deformed barbs on the tentacle, then sliced into the twisted flesh, carving an unprecedented wound into the tough appendage.

However, human strength has its limits; he couldn't sever the tentacle completely. The next second, the force of the tentacle's strike sent Reynard flying.

Balistan rushed to Reynard's side, shielding the fallen man from any follow-up attacks by the monster. "Are you all right?" he shouted.

Seeing this, Dismas had no time to lose. He quickly reloaded his musket, simultaneously calling for fire support.

"Musketeers, fire!"

At the same time, the impaled One-eyed raised its half-destroyed head. A purple-black substance could be seen filling its pulped brain, uncontrollably proliferating and sprouting unspeakable, grotesque appendages and facial features, as if an extra face was growing on its head.

The rotted wounds on its face began to bulge. Thick, inflated blood vessels emerged, and something seemed to be moving beneath them.

The next second, the skin burst open, revealing half a face densely covered with black eyeballs of varying sizes. Its originally pale eyeballs turned pitch black with every blink.

The monster stirred, struggling back to its feet. Its other arm underwent a grotesque transformation. It squeezed and crushed the shaft of the spear before casually pulling the weapon free.

The hole in its chest filled almost instantaneously with bizarre flesh, and the next second, an eye as large as a fist snapped open.

This seemed to possess some strange power, inducing dizziness and a strong sense of fear in all who saw it.

Everyone witnessed the Aberrant Demon's mutation. Dismas and the other officers were holding up; as veterans of many battles with some understanding of Supernatural Power, they could bear the immense pressure.

But the soldiers were just ordinary people; when had they ever seen a monster whose head could be blown apart and still not die?

This completely upended their long-held beliefs.

Witnessing the grotesque mutations occurring on the monster was too much; their psyches couldn't possibly endure such a shock...

The malformed, twisted posture completely shattered their fragile minds, plunging them into torment.

Even as Dismas desperately shouted commands, they remained frozen. If they hadn't already been scattered, they would have fled.

Of course, many were too frightened to even move.

"Monster... Monster!"

"No! We have no hope of victory."

"Retreat... We have to run..."