Like a meteor crashing into the earth, the reckless Major landed in their midst, the impact blasting the ground into rubble. A shockwave of stone shrapnel burst outward, striking the Goblins and forcing them to brace under the hail of projectiles.
The Colonel and the Major locked eyes for a brief instant. No words were spoken, but their understanding was absolute.
Both men unleashed their trump cards at once.
[Magic Bow Manifestation]!
[Crimson Berserk Mode]!
The Colonel’s weapon shifted in his hands, morphing into the manifestation of his Mind’s Bow, a deadly recurve that radiated pure killing intent sharp enough to chill the air.
At the same time, blood from every nearby Wildkin corpse surged through the air, drawn into the Major’s body. His frame grew more monstrous by the second as his aura twisted into something feral, his greatsword gleaming crimson as if thirsting for more blood.
The Major charged without hesitation. His greatsword swept in a wide arc, smashing into all three Goblin Fighters. Though their enchanted shields spared them from lethal wounds, they were flung aside with brutal force.
That was all he needed to achieve. The Colonel’s line of fire was clear.
Almost instantly, a bolt of pure killing intent streaked past the Major, tearing through the night air with unstoppable force.
The Goblin Priest panicked. Its tentacles writhed, desperately trying to hurl one of its hostages into the arrow’s path. But the projectile was far too fast.
The arrow slammed through the Priest’s chest with brutal precision, pinning it against a nearby wall. The impact shook its body violently, forcing its tentacle-like limbs to spasm and release their human captives.
The hostages tumbled free, gasping in shock, while the Priest writhed in pain.
The Goblin Priest did not panic at first. Even as it staggered and struggled to rise, a twisted confidence burned in its eyes.
After all, it had already placed [Stigmata] upon the four civilians. With those extra "lives" in reserve, it believed it could still escape.
It only needed to stand... and flee before the toll became too much to bear.
But the moment that thought crossed its mind, the arrow wound in its chest blazed with a white-gold light.
A runic brand seared into its flesh flared to life, releasing a devastating Light-elemental eruption that tore through its body from the inside.
The cursed [Stigmata] marks branded onto the civilians instantly shattered, dispersing into motes of fading magic.
The curse was broken.
The Goblin Priest’s shrieks rang out across the plaza, its wretched body convulsing violently as light consumed it from within. The sight left the Goblin Fighters frozen in horror.
That single hesitation proved fatal.
One of the Colonel’s arrows found its mark, piercing cleanly through a Goblin Fighter’s skull.
At the same moment, the Crimson Berserker’s greatsword cleaved another Goblin cleanly in half at the waist, spraying gore across the stone street.
The last Goblin Fighter roared in desperation, raising its blade, but the effort was futile. The Major’s relentless strikes overwhelmed it, and moments later, the final guard fell.
With the enemies down, the Colonel moved swiftly to the freed civilians. He knelt to examine them, his stern expression softening when he confirmed they were still alive.
Their condition was poor, but they were still breathing. For now, that was enough.
A sigh of relief escaped him.
His eyes shifted back to the Goblin Priest. The wretch still clung to life. Its unnatural goblin vitality allowing it to resist longer than expected. But still, its body was breaking apart under the radiant runes, and its screams had lost all strength.
The Colonel did not step closer and just watched.
He had no desire to repeat the humiliation of their last encounter, when the Priest had slipped away.
This time, he had prepared in advance.
Before the assault even began, he had secured a special Light-elemental spell scroll from the Division’s Healer Unit—crafted for this exact moment. The scroll had not only incapacitated the Priest but had also purged its vile [Stigmata] curse.
As the Goblin Priest’s body finally crumbled under the holy light, the Colonel straightened. A long-held weight was lifted from his chest.
His shame had been erased, and his unit’s honor reclaimed.
And perhaps, with this death, the Wildkin would think twice before ever again using hostages to hinder human military operations.
Without further hesitation, he quickly guided the freed civilians to a safer spot, keeping them out of sight while the Major stood guard. All they could do now was hope the Healers arrived in time to save them.
But the battle outside still raged.
Not far from the plaza, a Fury cavalryman was suddenly ambushed by a Sand Gecko beast.
The rider was thrown violently from his mount, and before he could recover, the beast lunged, tearing into his throat with savage jaws.
The Gecko reared its head to devour its prey—
A crimson slash of sword light ripped through the air, cleaving the beast clean in half.
The Major stepped forward from the bloody mist, his greatsword dripping crimson. He reached out, catching the reins of the fallen soldier’s horse as it bolted past. With a powerful heave, he vaulted onto its back in one fluid motion.
He turned toward the Colonel, awaiting orders.
The Veteran raised a hand, delivering a single sharp signal. The message was clear:
Support the Fury soldiers... Push forward.
The Major gave a single nod.
With a tug of the reins, he galloped away, charging back into the chaos of battle to carve a path for their comrades.
The Colonel lingered for a moment. His gaze drifted upward toward the smoke-filled skies, where the clash of steel and the cries of men and beasts merged into a storm of violence.
A faint sigh left his lips, the weight of countless battles pressing upon him.
Then his form faded into the smoke and shadows.
The Veteran-ranked Fang resumed his silent hunt.