Traitor Of Humanity 37 A Warm Welcome For The Scum Of Humanity!

Meanwhile, the total number of bandits remaining is close to 1000. The bandits charging in through the western gate number half that, at around 500.

150 soldiers against 500 bandits, with a 3rd stage martial artist leading the invasion... Haradur city's soldier were forced into a constant retreat.

The bandits that have their hands free are already barging into the citizens' houses, ready to slaughter the poor defenseless citizens. Unfortunately, the citizens that lived close to the city walls, have already evacuated, leaving no prey for the bandits to enjoy hunting.

Since yesterday, the city lord has sent his men to order the citizens to evacuate to the center of the city, as he had expected the possibility that, on the fifth day, the bandits would break in. If all the citizens are gathered at the center, then at least it will be easier to defend them. A makes.h.i.+ft fort, one made out of wood and rocks, was even built at the city square.

The citizen were not hopeful enough to believe that the city walls cannot fall, but none of them wanted to leave their houses behind for bandits to ransack. Many of them took whatever valuables they could carry on their persons with them as they retreated to the city square.

The male citizens were told to pick up whatever they could, to use as a weapon in the worst case scenario that the citizens would be forced to fight.

By the time the city's western gate was broken down, all of the citizens have already gathered at the center of the city.

The bandits took whatever valuables they could spot in the vacated houses. Those houses that did not have have anything valuable left behind were thrashed by them. They did not spend much time searching each house though. The main prize, those defenseless citizens trapped in the city, are surely awaiting them right ahead!

As the bandits marched towards the city square, it was as if they could see a large amount of colorful confetti littered all over the main street, 2 long rows of welcomers guiding them in, and a large red banner hung over the entrance to the city square, painted with the words, "Welcome, you sc.u.m of humanity, your prize awaits in here!", in bold black ink.

"...Huh?" One of the bandits rubbed his eyes. He thought he was seeing wrong. How could something like this appear here? Where and when have you ever heard of people giving a warm welcome to the invaders that would rob and r*** them?

Ronold Wolf also felt very confused. There was a frown on his face as he observed this "welcome". In any case, these welcomers are obviously all male, and they are just standing stiffly along the sides of the street, pointing the way in. Some of them even look like they are maintaining dance moves, as if they are making fun of him. ...Let's kill them. He was about to give the order when a bandit suddenly shrieked.

"Ahhh!!!" A bandit that had approached one of the "welcomers" backed away in a panic, causing him to fall on his b.u.t.t.

"What!? What's wrong?" A bandit officer asked.

The bandit who had screamed earlier, pointed at that welcomer. He said, "I... I recognize him! That's Rouch, one of us!"

"Thas.h.!.+ Isn't that Thas.h.!.+?" Another bandit shouted, having recognized another one of the welcomers. "I remember him going up the wall, but he never came back down..."

"They... They are all dead! These are corpses! Rotting corpses!"

"They died. Then, our enemies, those d*mn f***ers, stabbed them through and used their bodies like ornaments!"

Seeing this scene where the corpses of their comrades are defiled, stabbed through from the bottom to the top with wooden poles, and displayed in public, caused the previously high spirit of the bandits to disappear. That spirit disappeared and was replaced with fear and unease.

It was not like they had never toyed with the corpses of their victims before. Many times, they would kill the women they have kidnap, and then screw their dead bodies... But when they saw the corpses of their fellow men, their fellow bandits, end up defiled as well, they could not help but feel a terrifying sense of sympathy.

That sympathy was what raised their fear.

That fear, caused them to see the entrance before them as if one into h.e.l.l, making them hesitate to take even one step forward.

Suddenly, a loud voice snapped them out of their nervousness.

"If they defile your corpses, then you defile theirs! What are you cowards getting scared about!" It was the voice of Ronold Wolf.

Compared to his terror-stricken subordinates, this man felt not one grain of fear, nor one speck of nervousness. It was the opposite in fact. He licked his lips, as he felt that his opponent this time around could very well be someone that shares hobbies similar to his own.

This caused him to felt an slight sense of antic.i.p.ation. He could not wait to string up the bodies of all of the city's men in a similar fas.h.i.+on to compete in who has the better taste in abusing their fellow man.

"CHARGE!!!" With the raise of his greatsword, Ronold Wolf led the members of the Wolfing gang through the entrance.

A low voice echoed out at that time. "Welcome to my city... Now, die!"

From the makes.h.i.+ft fort in the city square, from atop wooden platforms and behind a wall built of logs, ballista bolts, and a hail of arrows, flew out at the bandits.

...

Explosions rocked the land, as pineapples landed inside the city square. Fires spread, starting from the center of the city. The fires spread outwards, being caught by the surrounded houses. Smoke billowed into the clear blue sky.

The walls that were built out of logs did not take more that 2 grenades at any particular place to knock down. The wooden platforms did provide some hindrance against the bandits, but not much. They only gave the defenders of the city a slightly higher position to fight on, one that the bandits themselves could climb up to, or pull them down from.

The ballistae were destroyed by grenades, after just one or two rounds of firing. They were not as effective as when they were used the last time, as the bandits had learned their lesson and decided not to bunch up as much as they had before.

The soldiers and the men of the city entered into a b.l.o.o.d.y battle with the bandits. Those men whom were ordinary citizens just the day before, had practically no combat experience, causing them to now die in droves. Meanwhile, the women could only cower behind the backs of the men, hoping that the bandits would never reach them, and that the men of their families could survive. The children are even more helpless. The youngest ones are only able to cry and hug their mothers, while older ones all look nervous.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

The fieriest battle occurred between the 2 leaders of the opposing sides, the chief of the Wolfing gang, Ronold Wolf, and the city lord of Haradur city, Merab Zefer.

Sparks flew in the streets of the city as a saber clashed against a greatsword.

Ronold Wolf is at 4th level of the escaping fatality stage, otherwise known as the lesser immortal stage, while Merab Zefer is at the peak of the heroic bearings stage, the greater mortal stage. That makes a whole 4 levels of difference between them. There is even a near fatal destiny tribulation separating their two respective stages, as if a barrier between 2 different n.o.ble cla.s.ses, one higher, and one lower.

But surprisingly, the battle between these two men is going quite evenly. The both of them fought seriously, and the both of them risked death!

Merab Zefer is a tall man nearly 190 cm in height.

Ronold Wolf is even taller, being around 230 cm. Compared to Merab Zefer, this bandit chief is even burlier, looking almost as if he can pick up an elephant with his bare hands.

The reason the Merab Zefer could fight on par with this man who is able to send him soaring with a single punch, is because of his speed.

When Merab Zefer moved, he would move so fast that it would seem to the surrounding mortals, like he had disappeared, like a ghost that had melted into the nothingness. Then, he would reappear, either besides or behind Ronold Wolf, in a blind spot where he could catch his opponent off-guard.

Unfortunately, Ronold Wolf is no pushover. Having achieve his cultivation level of today, and having built as big a gang as his, he has more than enough battle experience. Although he could only notice his opponent appearing near him at the last moment, he was still able to accurately respond by swinging his greatsword.

CLANG!

Ronold Wolf blocked another slash. But it wasn't just the saber itself that he had to block. There was also a blade of light that flew off of the saber from its swing. That blade of light went past his greatsword, and cut at his body!

The blade was targeted at the gaps of his armor. Ronold Wolf had to move to avoid getting his limbs cut. But his armor wasn't invulnerable either. It would weaken the attack, but he would still suffer a cut, causing him to bleed.

Ronold Wolf put strength into his greatsword, and pushed Merab Zefer back with enough force to send him flying and cras.h.i.+ng through the wall of a house. The bandit chief followed up by rus.h.i.+ng forth and chopping down a heavy slas.h.!.+

Merab Zefer quickly got up from his fallen position. Before Ronold Wolf's greatsword could reach him, he flipped backwards, as if he was doing a somersault. His body coiled like that of a dragon's as he disappeared from the rubble-filled area that he was just at. The greatsword had barely missed him.

A window was smashed, as if something had slammed through it, and Merab Zefer reappeared outside the house. Then, he jumped atop a roof of another building to get a better view of the combat situation, and to avoid getting caught off-guard.

Ronold Wolf also climbed onto a roof. Atop the two separate buildings, the two foes stared across at each other. A menacing grin appeared on Ronold Wolf's face, and he began to speak. "You unexpectedly have 2, no, 3, of those martial skills capable of bridging the gap between martial cultivators of different levels. I have heard of them, but I was never given a chance to learn one. Now, I do not want to kill you. I want to drag you back to slowly torture the moves out of you!"

Hearing that, Merab Zefer harrumphed. "Hmph! That is if you can make it back alive."

Considering the current wounds that the two men had suffered, Merab Zefer did indeed have the right to say what he said. While he had suffered several bruises, his opponent, Ronold Wolf, had suffered several cuts. Although none of those cuts are fatal, they will acc.u.mulate, and when the amount adds up, the damage done, and the blood lost, will be significant enough to affect the fate of the battle.

Ronold Wolf laughed. "You overestimate yourself."

Then, he looked at Merab Zefer with a doubtful look. "I am curious about where you got those martial skills. What are their names? Who gave them to you? Why would someone in a mere mortal city like you have them?"

"I don't have to tell you." Merab Zefer said expressionlessly.

In his mind though, he thought back to when he had first received these 3 martial skills from Seth.

Those skill names on those pages... made him wish it were a joke.

Offensive blade skill: Reaching your heart from a mile away, my love is ethereal!

Stealth-type movement skill: Stalking at your bedside, gazing at your jewels...

Escape-type movement skill: Having stolen your peach, this monkey flees from the heavens!

"You should shout out these skill names when you use them. It'll be cooler that way." When he heard his third son say this, for the first time in his life, he smacked that d*mned boy's head.

These names... he would not say them even if the one who asked him was his long departed mother.