In the dim wilderness, a group of Heretics was playing a "little ga," which was why their squads were always composed of both n and won.
However, they had all undergone modification through the Flesh Rite. If it was only the initial stages of modification, like the ordinary Heretics Lance had previously ambushed in those camps, they could still derive pleasure through normal "little gas."
But at this stage, the modification had rendered them immune to pain, so the thods they used to seek pleasure were extrely bloody and terrifying.
Their understanding of a "little ga" differed vastly from that of normal people. It went far beyond sadomasochistic practices, involving the crazed ravaging of flesh and reveling in the sensation of skin tearing and then healing, over and over.
This wasn't one-sided; both parties were equally frenzied, seeking pleasure through this thod and, of course, hoping to attract the attention of their god. Perhaps in their view, it was exhilarating, but to any outsider, it induced intense disgust.
Just as they were engrossed in their "play," a fist-sized bomb landed precisely among them.
The Heretics, still lost in their perverse enjoynt, didn't react in ti. The powerful impact of the bomb's explosion only pushed their frenzy to a higher peak; the injuries from the flying shrapnel were even less severe than those they inflicted upon each other during their "gas."
However, seizing this mont, torches were lit. The trusted aides charged forward, taking advantage of the Heretics' daze to unleash a barrage of attacks, finishing them off.
The team led by Geralt displayed the sa caution and ticulousness as he did, typically operating with a complete action plan and various targeted preparations.
anwhile, Tadiff's group didn't bother with such elaborate tactics. Sobray initiated with a bomb for area-of-effect stun and control, then they lit torches and charged in—job done.
They stood out for their daring, hard-hitting efficiency, like veritable killing machines.
In contrast to their smooth operation, Reynard was far less fortunate. While the enemy's position had been well-marked, the Heretics, for so reason, had also decided to launch a harassnt raid that night.
Then, unfortunately, the two groups encountered each other on the way. What was supposed to be a surprise attack turned into an encounter battle.
With both sides montarily confused, the battle erupted instantly!
At night, without the sun's blessing, Reynard's Sunlight Ring could not exert its power.
But his own strength was by no ans weak. He didn't intend to fight personally but held his Longsword, ready to act at any mont.
His trusted aides, though not veterans of a hundred battles, certainly possessed formidable combat abilities. The mont they were engaged, they shouted, "Enemy attack!"
Everyone fought bravely, showing no fear or reluctance despite the surprise of an encounter battle.
Why was the team led by Reynard considered unlucky? It wasn't just the suddenness of the encounter; these Heretics dared to assault the outpost, aning their numbers wouldn't be small.
There was no ti to light torches, but the flickering shadows suggested at least five enemies, all rushing forward.
And at that mont, a deep roar echoed, followed by heavy footsteps that made the earth tremble slightly.
"ROAR!"
One Heretic, initially thrilled by the encounter, only saw a towering black silhouette charge out from the darkness. Before he could react further, he was sent flying by a ferocious impact.
He had been charging the fastest, but in an instant, he was knocked completely out of the action.
It was then that Reynard finally lit a torch, its fla revealing the large figure to be Barin.
Barin, using his reinforced shoulder armor in a sidelong charge, sent a Heretic blocking their path flying.
But just as the other Heretics thought Barin was stopped, a sound like a whirlwind sliced through the air. A nearby Heretic, who was about to attack, was instantly bisected at the waist, gushing blood dyeing half of Barin's Heavy Armor red.
The battle was far from over. Barin swung his Great Axe with one hand, while his left hand shot out and grabbed another Heretic by the head.
"Vermin!" With a roar, Barin's armor clanged as he exerted force with his hand.
Even more terrifying, the black iron helt in his grasp began to creak and deform, accompanied by the Heretic's terrified screams.
What a crazed scene, to actually make these Heretics feel fear!
But he didn't manage to crush the head completely because other Heretics had surged forward.
A fighter's thrusts struck Barin but failed to penetrate his armor. Unwilling to let the attackers reach his unarmored teammates, Barin hurled the Heretic he held aside, using the body to knock back the others, then swung his Great Axe once more.
"For the Lord!"
My Lord had said to slaughter these Heretics coveting Hamlet!
This terrifying talent also put so pressure on Reynard, who was watching. Barin had never received professional training before, yet it had only taken a few days of training for him to master his own power.
However, he also felt a sense of relief; Hamlet's next generation would be stronger than theirs.
The battle soon quieted down. Barin alone had killed five Heretics, nearly drenched in their blood, which still dripped from the crevices in his Heavy Armor.
Although the others' feats weren't as exaggerated, they also ensured that all remaining Heretics were permanently dealt with.
"Let's go, the battle has just begun."
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