NOVEL NEXT Chapter 106: Confront!
The scent of blood permeated the surroundings; each street was filled with bodies that overflowed. From myriads to ghouls, one could no longer be properly defined. However, one thing was for sure: that those who rose once again were the myriads that had recently perished.
On each side, battles were taking place, and on the farther side was a myriad fighting two ghouls at once. His breathing was getting tougher and tougher, with fatigue slowly creeping into every part of his body. He held his sword firmly, his lips and eyebrows frowning in despair.
Yet, he refused to lose, and so with a final struggle, he screamed with a bestial-like roar, which was very effective, raising the morale of others and himself. The veins in his legs bulged, and with force of fury, he exerted a large amount of strength and pushed himself forward.
The two ghouls were dumbfounded and were pushed into a state of confusion, as the foe they were playing with resolved itself with its final struggle. They were frustrated and angry, and so they launched a counterattack without even waiting for the myriad's attack to pass by.
Thus, the myriad, in a strategically better position, saw that the ghouls launched an attack of their own; his lips curled into a twisted smile. He twisted his blade in another direction and continued with the attack.
The first ghoul to confront him arrived at the front, but was already too late, as the blade was already at the edge of its side. The ghoul was decapitated, with its blood gushing out of the top, and its head flying off into the air.
He then twisted his wrist, and the blade turned in another direction, fully expecting where the next ghoul was, and just like that, a ghoul arrived just as the head was still flying off into the air. The ghoul, upon seeing the decapitated head, became even more agitated, but was shocked, which diluted its mental capacity, overlooking the fact that a blade was already coming toward it.
The blade struck its target, and the ghoul's head was split in half. A crimson flower bloomed into the air that withered as fast as it came out. The ghoul fell to the ground lifelessly, meeting death for the last time.
The myriad, who had just exerted all his energy, breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, he was able to outsmart the ghouls with the last vestiges of his strength. If it was not so, then he could only fear what was going to happen to his body and soul, though nobody truly ever knows.
He rested for a few moments, while maintaining guard all around him, and when he was good to go, he stood up and glanced over the surroundings. What he saw shocked him utterly. The numerous battles happening around him were beginning to end, and a new gathering of myriads was transpiring in the center.
Upon steeling himself and taking a big breath, he dashed forth, moving toward the group and joining them upon arriving. Upon seeing the leader, who was coordinating everything, he saw that it was the scholar, who had provoked the rebellion upon seeing a mysterious individual.
He was then led to the front of the archers, the back and side of the spearmen, who had their spears between the shields. His heartbeat came beating loudly, anxiety grew, and fear struck a precious chord within him. The hair on his body started to rise as anticipation of what was about to come kept on coming.
The ghouls provoked the army, and anger welled up within them. He stepped forward, about to join the mob, but was then reminded of the stakes when the scholar spoke up. He found relief in the fact that the leader of the myriads was reasonable and rational, which would mean there would not be too many senseless deaths.
That was what he would have liked to believe, but alas, they were outnumbered and inside the camp of an enemy base. No matter the competence of a commander, a disadvantage was a disadvantage. Which was why he stayed his faith and beliefs for the meantime and just hoped for the best.
His eyes widened as doubts rose through his heart and mind. The ghoulish army suddenly moved; caught off guard, the scholar did his best. He was ordered to guard and observe for the meantime, as the shields were raised forth and spears were placed in the front.
The bowmen nocked their bows and arrows and aimed at the front. They firmly held their weapons, hoping for the best, but their hopes and dreams were crushed in an instant; their mouths were left agape, and fear and anxiety gripped their bodies frozen.
The ghoulish army defied expectations and moved toward the front, stopping just a mere meter before the tip of the blade of the spears. During which they moved down into two hands and raised their lower half and pushed the spears upward with a kick.
The myriads were famished, and their strength was still weak, and some of them were civilians who volunteered to fight, and so with the force of the kick, some were able to retain their spears up front, but many were pushed upward.
The ghoulish army took advantage of this, as there were no weapons pointing at them, and rushed toward the shield men, arriving a few meters before the point of impact. They leaped and curled themselves into cannonballs.
They smashed through the shield men, knocking them out of formation. The myriad who had been watching from the beginning was shocked and froze in place. He could not believe it; he did not want to—alas, reality hits hard.
He snapped awake as the scholar started barking out orders for them in order for the situation to be salvaged. They were all in fear; after all, the worst-case scenario had just transpired, and they could only curse their own luck and fate.
He stood his ground and held his blade forward.