Chapter 9: First Encounter!
The Amol Highlands were a crescent-shaped landmass that enveloped Babylon, as if gently embracing its western border. A huge area with bountiful fields, horses and abundant forests and mountains protecting the terrain, which could assist Babylon’s rise.
’We must not falter.’
Luka sat atop Furia, galloping towards the entrance where his lands t the Amol Highlands, a narrow, well-defended pass.
Iris and Galatea rode their steeds on his left and right, while the fresh recruits split off to the eastern flank, preparing to assault the small town on the border led by Gerard.
The two won insisted on accompanying him on his mission to the central Amol village, which blocked the entrance from the desert and would serve as the first watchtower and bastion of Babylon.
’The battle will be quite arduous.’
Despite trying to explain the situation to Galatea, she refused to listen whenever it ca to Iris and what he said during the eting.
He’d also lost most of his strength, now barely surpassing the average soldier; his only advantage was the unholy sword throbbing against his back as it slowly devoured his desire to gather strength.
Luka flicked his gaze from the plains to the top left corner of his eyes.
[Desire: 45/100]
Each ti it reached one hundred points, he gained a point of sin energy. Sin energy was the power used by the fallen to grow stronger and use magic. Much like humans who used mana, or those blessed by the divine used divine energy.
’It’s mainly been growing using my lust, but I wonder how other sins would fare.’
Da-da-da!
Da-da-da!
Luka sifted through the mories and information stored in his mind of this beautiful, serene land.
Their horses galloped through the beautiful green lands of the Amol people, once a tribe numbering in the thousands, originating in the desert, when the distant lord of Babylon allowed them to settle in this land as a protective buffer.
But all good things co to an end.
An overly greedy Lord and a militant Amol tribesman led to a decade-long war.
The population dwindled in both territories, allowing the monsters from the fallen lands to take advantage.
Since then, neither people have trusted each other, and the Amol tribesn have beco petty bandits and rogues who can only pilfer the land to survive.
"Phew..."
The wide horizon spread as far as the eye could see, with huge mountains forming a natural fortress from the majority of enemies.
"My Lord! The enemy!"
Galatea’s urgent voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Hm?!"
Ahead of them, a makeshift camp with wooden walls, spiked logs rolled on their side, and a group of at least twenty goblins all glared at them from at least a hundred tres distance.
"Halt!" Luka raised his arm, causing the cavalry and archers behind to follow his command as they ground to a halt.
"Zack, ask the hunters how close we need to be for their arrows to hit the enemy."
Though most of the villagers stayed with Gerard and the majority of the knights, just over twenty seasoned hunters chose to follow Luka.
He would never abuse their trust and rush into a battle.
"Furia, stay here, don’t cause trouble."
"Neigh~"
Galatea glanced at the proud horse before dismounting and joining him.
"H-Hey, wait for !"
Iris almost fell face-first as she jumped from her mount, dirt spraying all over her tunic and exposed thighs.
"Brea, have the n keep watch."
"Yes, Boss!"
.
.
.
Luka stood before the hunters, five with greying hair, a few old enough to be his father, while a handful likely only had a few years of experience at most.
"My Lord?"
The townsn began bowing and offering their greetings.
"Stop, this isn’t the ti for that. In tis of battle, you only need to listen to my orders. Drop the worship and show of respect."
"Y-Yes... My Lord."
The leading huntsman with wispy white hair and wrinkled face stepped forward, "Lord Babylon, the most experienced of us can reach them within two hundred tres half the ti. At one hundred, we down them with each shot, as for the rookies, thirty tres would be their limit for accuracy."
"I see, is it a limit of your bows?"
The old man glanced at the crude hunting bows and shortbows with a bitter smile.
"With a good longbow, I could reach three hundred tres at least, My Lord."
"Understood."
With a nod, Luka turned away.
"Prepare to take shots from the safest distance, let the young n get so practise. Whittle their numbers down, and ensure no archers remain. That is your task, from now on, you are the captain of my archers."
"Y-Yes Lord Babylon!"
On his way back, he noticed Galatea’s ice blue eyes watching his every move. "What?"
"Nothing."
She turned away with her ears glowing faintly red.
’What?’
Luka didn’t understand why she was so strange. She would approach him constantly when he first changed bodies. Now, when they ca close, she avoided his gaze or bit her lips before complaining.
"Heeeh~" Iris, who watched from a few tres away, curled her lips into a wide grin.
.
.
.
The goblins gathered more and more after discovering the intruders, though luckily, they lacked a horn or other devices to call for reinforcents.
Luka stood at the front, beside him were the few knights who followed Zack and Galatea, while the people from Amol ford their own, disorderly line of warriors. ’Their weapons are horrible...’ He thought.
A ragtag bunch of swords, stone axes and even a few slings.
The only two with decent weapons were Iris, who wielded a hefty battle axe, and Brea, who held a short spear about one tre seventy long and a round wooden shield on her right forearm, more of a buckler than a true shield.
Behind them, the n clad in black cloth all held their bows.
A few steps ahead was the old man with wispy hair, who called out instructions.
"Nock your arrows."
A dozen bows creaked as their arrows pointed towards the goblins.
"Pick a target, prioritise those with bows, or tools to call others. Leave a handful alive!"
The n all shouted back. "Understood!"
"My Lord, we are ready at any ti!"
After decades of fighting from above, to face them from the front brought a gleeful flutter to Luka’s chest. He held Oblivion’s grip with his left hand, ready to draw it at any mont, excitent growing with his racing pulse.
Luka glanced at the old man, speaking with a deep voice. "Show
your value."
"!!!"
The old man’s eyes suddenly burned with enthusiasm.
"Draw!"
A wave of squeaking horse hair filled the silent air as all twenty archers prepared to fire. Once everyone had fully drawn their bow, the old man himself made a move. He nocked and drew his bow in seconds, with a graceful, fluid motion.
"Give them a volley, loose your arrows!"
Loose being the keyword, for most of the hunters, the rest was the old man’s way of showing off as a silent squall of arrows flew overhead. The cheap iron tips cut through the air almost silently, a faint twang from the bows the only sound.
In panic, the goblin archers drew their crude bows in retaliation.
However, the arrows struck like a rain of death, skewering seven of the goblin archers.
A few seconds after the first volley, the old man called out. "Nock your arrows!" He appeared more confident, his shoulders loose and words more natural, lacking the stiffness from before.
Luka closed his eyes, trying to steady his rapid breaths, a powerful force pumping inside his chest as he spoke to the knight beside him.
"Galatea, my hands won’t stop trembling."
"Loose your Arrows!!"
A second familiar sound, but this ti, Luka snapped his eyes open.
"Attack! Don’t let them recover from this second volley, knights with !" Furia let out a furious cry as she lifted off the floor.
The next mont, they charged into the small goblin camp.
Facing this charge, the remaining goblin archers chuckled, their yellow eyes creepy as they drew their bows with an unsightly squeak.
"Ignore them! Charge!" Luka bellowed as the curtain of arrows fell from the sky, slaughtering the remaining archers.
A handful of goblins remained as Furia leapt over the spiked tree logs and Luka thrust his jet black blade through a panicked goblin’s chest.
[Oblivion Absorbed the Goblin’s soul]
[EXP:
1]
[Desire: 55/100]
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