Authors Notes: Apologies for the irregular chapter uploads recently. The weather has taken a turn for the worse in the last week with constant rain and snow while the temperature barely goes above 7 centigrade even during the day.
This is causing a lot of issues with infrastructure like power, gas, and the internet and things keep shutting down every so often. Not to mention even sitting outside of a blanket is torture.
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Viscous red liquid dripped down from its clenched maw that by itself was not harmful but the moment it came into contact with anything organic it caught fire.
It growled threateningly while swinging the front paws in several meter wide sweeps, clearing out entire patches of land that were teeming with the grunts.
Once pinned under its weight the grunts tried to break free but with their incomplete transformations, there was no way they could overpower an Ether Level beast.
The Mastiff opened his mouth and sprayed the same red liquid in a cone in front of it. Its fangs rubbed against one another to create sparks that lit the entire stream on fire.
*WOOOSH*
The surroundings were lit up like a haystack.
Rhisiat extended his left arm over the flame which was covered in batches of thin red hair, exactly the same as that of the Mastiff. He made a grasping motion and "picked" up a fireball in his hand as if it was physical matter before throwing it into the enemy ranks.
The centipede would vomit the tar-like substance that caught any that touched it while the mastiff lit them up.
It was a slaughter in every meaning of the word. The grunts could not do anything against the overpowering physical strength up close while they didn't have any long-range attacks to do anything to them from afar.
But even with all that, Rhisiat and his beast companion's presence was like a boulder in the path of a river. They could take care of one direction by themselves but the sheer quantity of the grunts was astronomically high and it was only getting worse with every passing second.
The other cultivators aside from him were all melee fighters but most did not have anything to take care of such numbers either.
Like Fulke for example, with his massive build and long reach could kill at least 2-3 grunts with every swing but using Qi based attacks that could deal damage in a wide area would leave him tired and exhausted within half an hour, if not less.
Most of the others carried swords, spears, hammers, or even dagger-type weapons which were best suited for one-on-one combat so there was a very real limit to how many enemies they could realistically contend with.
About 15 meters behind them was the barrier protecting the city of Argham and right on the other side were the cultivators capable of long-range attacks.
They had yet to take action since not only did they need actual munition in the form of either arrows or supplements and ingredients for their spells or elemental abilities, but the time they could stay active was much shorter.
Not to mention they were far fewer in number.
Were the melee fighters made up of almost 70% of the total forces, the long-range warriors only made up about 25% while the remaining 5% were the ones with support-type abilities and powers.
Converted to real numbers, 19 cultivators were capable of long-range attacks and only 4 had support-type abilities.
Henrik who was the one leading the defensive effort was among these four people.
He had stationed himself at the very back and was currently making the finishing touches on the Beast Slaying formation when Hazel came up the steps, stopping just outside the outer boundary of the stone platform.
She waited silently until Henrik finished the inscription he was working on. He wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt, pulled back his long hair, and peered upwards gloomily.
"What's the update?"
"It's not looking good. It has only been less than ten minutes and some of the front line fighters are complaining that there is no end to them. They are relatively easy to kill but there is just too many."
Henrik didn't seem surprised at all.
"Of course they are. These kids are future kings and queens of their respective kingdoms, I doubt they have ever fought on the front lines. Tell them this is how it goes, shut up and deal with it."
He was about to get back to working on the formation when he noticed Hazel's troubled expression.
"What's wrong? Is there something else?"
She hesitated at first but seeing the look of concern in Henrik's gaze she could not help but say what she was really thinking.
"It will be a battle of attrition. Whoever can last longer wins."
"I understand-"
"No, you don't. There really are too many of them. Not these ones but I can sense a different kind of creature not too far away. They feel…wrong, like there is an emptiness about them. And they are hungry and strong. They don't understand the meaning of defeat."
"But the worst part is that I can't see an end to their numbers. No matter how far I look all I see is this black sludge drowning everything. We cannot content against something like that…"
