One of them even threw away the sword in his hand, just to run a bit faster.
From ti to ti, they turned their heads to look back, to see if they had successfully shaken off that "monster."
But each ti they turned, the fear on their faces intensified.
What was hunting them down, tearing their courage to shreds, was not so fierce beast nor a terrifying army of enemies.
Instead, it was an old man whose hair had turned gray, at least 90 years old.
Kiryu held a tachi he casually picked up from the ground, lowered his center of gravity, and tightly pursued the four.
Kiryu moved incredibly fast, faster than those four young n!
The distance between them closed rapidly.
In just a mont, Kiryu caught up with the one running the slowest.
The blade flashed——the slowest one fell silent imdiately.
Following that, Kiryu caught up with two more, and without exception, took them down one by one.
The last person, realizing he couldn’t outrun Kiryu, stopped and turned around, resigned to his fate.
"Co on! You old geezer! I’ll fight you..."
Psh.
Kiryu didn’t even respond.
With a sideways swing of his blade, he directly cut open the man’s throat.
Kiryu’s slash was incredibly precise.
It just grazed the man’s throat artery, with perfect force.
Using the smallest movent and lightest force, he delivered a fatal blow then and there.
"Mr. Kiryu!"
After Kiryu fiercely chopped down the fleeing enemies, Mukiwa’s urgent shout echoed from behind.
Mukiwa, clutching a long object wrapped in white cloth, quickly caught up.
"Finally cleared those blocking our way," Kiryu lifted his left hand and wiped the enemy’s blood off his cheek with its back, "Young Master, stay close! Let’s go find Anthony and the others!"
Mukiwa nodded vigorously, then followed closely behind Kiryu, rushing toward the southwest side of the camp, following the sound of battle cries.
Faced with the growing cries of battle, Kiryu remained calm, yet Mukiwa’s expression beca increasingly strained.
She worried about Elodie’s situation.
Her inner worry made Mukiwa pick up her pace slightly—but she still couldn’t catch up with Kiryu, maintaining a fixed distance.
At this ti, while running ahead of Mukiwa, Kiryu suddenly tossed aside the tachi he had picked up earlier and reached out to Mukiwa:
"Young Master, give the cloth bundle."
"Mr. Kiryu, do you need the cloth bundle?" Mukiwa’s eyes widened slightly, clutching the wrapped object tightly.
"The attacking enemies are about 200 in number," Kiryu said casually, "To deal with such numbers, using ordinary swords is too taxing; it would take at least ten to defeat them.
"...I understand." Mukiwa nodded vigorously, then handed the cloth bundle to Kiryu.
Taking the bundle from Mukiwa, the pair ran toward the "main battlefield" at the camp’s southwestern corner.
"...Hmm?" Arriving at the source of the battle cries, Kiryu, who had been calm, was suddenly taken aback.
Kiryu had envisioned various situations for the "main battlefield."
He thought Anthony and the others might be completely suppressed by a superior force.
He considered they might be in mortal danger.
He even thought Anthony and the others might be dead.
But he hadn’t imagined...the scene now before him...
Mukiwa, seeing the battlefield before her eyes, was left stunned too: "Are we...winning?"
...
...
The defense line didn’t retreat again.
The defense held firm, like an impregnable fortress.
The loathso "Anti-foreigner Warriors" could no longer kill any of them, nor break and suppress their defense line.
This greatly encouraged Oomura and the others, boosting their morale and fighting spirit.
On the other hand, the Anti-foreigner Group’s morale and fighting spirit were rapidly declining.
Thinking they were about to annihilate Aoto and the others, they launched an attack, only to achieve nothing.
No matter how they attacked, they couldn’t break through any part of the defense line.
At first triumphant, then defeated, and finally exhausted—to describe the Anti-foreigner Group’s state couldn’t be more fitting.
The attack suddenly had no effect...which inevitably damaged the group’s montum.
Their earlier success relied solely on two things: montum and numbers.
These two advantages complented each other.
Now, with their montum blocked, the disadvantage of their numbers began to show.
"Hey! You’re stepping on my foot!"
"Ahhh—! Bastard! Your sword just cut !"
"Those in the back, stop pushing! Stop pushing! Soone’s fallen over! You’re going to trample them to death!"
...
Previously, relying on high spirit barely masked their chaotic organization.
User Comments
0 comments from readers