"Enemy attack."
"Ah!"
The mercenaries on both sides reacted almost simultaneously, yet the arrows that flew from the darkness were faster.
"Thud, thud."
Two bodies fell, with only a third of the arrow feathers sticking out of the back of their heads, which on closer inspection, had pierced directly through their skulls.
"How is this possible..."
Such powerful bows, and nearly simultaneous hits.
"Who are you?"
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
All the mercenaries who witnessed this scene were chilled to the bone. They wanted to strike back but were met with Nors's whirlwind of long spear moves.
His gaze sharpened immensely, and within his spear's movements, there was a thick air of loathing and hatred.
"Swoosh!"
The spearhead swept past the mercenaries' necks, and in an instant, blood spurted as four men fell backward at the same time.
"Hahaha, that's five for me, am I the leader now?"
As the words fell, Nors gripped his long spear and, like a silver White Wolf, pounced forward fiercely.
He charged into the crowd, not caring if they were mercenaries or merchants, killing everyone in sight without mercy.
"Humph, idiot."
Jiera's dissatisfied voice rang out as she reached for her quiver and took out three arrows at once.
"How can this fellow be so strong! Archers, where are you? Shoot, shoot now!"
The mercenary leader named Ouke had joined a mercenary group at fourteen, became independent at twenty-four, and then started from scratch to build this hundred-man mercenary band over twenty years.
But in just a single encounter, more than ten of his men were dead.
How long had it been?
"What are the archers doing? Why aren't they shooting..."
Ouke turned around only to see not the attacking archers but a scene of bodies on the ground.
The exposed parts of their heads and necks were pierced with arrows sunk halfway in. Ouke finally realized the problem.
These enemies were exceptional; they were...
"People of Yatun!"
There was only one possibility, other than the People of Yatun, Ouke couldn't think of any other strange enemies in the lands of the Iron Eagle Kingdom.
"Retreat, quick, retreat!"
When People of Yatun were not yet of age, or when there was only one, the mercenaries could boldly capture them.
Chained by shackles, People of Yatun were no more than caged beasts, unthreatening.
However, if you let the People of Yatun arm themselves and have enough food to grow, even just one could make slave traders pay dearly.
Not to mention two People of Yatun working together here.
The night, the forest—whether it was the timing or the terrain, they were at a disadvantage.
"Why retreat?! Have you gone mad?"
"Just kill those two maniacs!"
Merchant Piers, infuriated, rushed to the face of the mercenary leader Ouke and shouted, "I order you to kill..."
"Thwack!!"
Piers's words were cut off as a one-handed sword pierced through his unprotected chest from behind.
Ouke's expression changed dramatically; he retreated frantically, his face filled with terror.
"Haha, I've scored the first kill!"
Inya swung her one-handed sword and effortlessly beheaded Piers. She didn't know who Piers was, but anyone who could give orders must be an important figure.
Saros had taught Inya from a young age that killing a hundred soldiers was not as commendable as decapitating a general.
"You're dressed so well, must also be a big fish, right?"
Inya paid no attention to the head that had fallen to the ground; without giving Ouke a chance to react, she struck with her hand.
"Clang!"
Ouke instinctively chose to block, and although he barely managed, it put a huge strain on the mercenary leader's right arm.
'What monstrous strength?!'
His arm trembled uncontrollably, aching, as Ouke hastily retreated, but Inya was even faster.
She was using a one-handed sword, which was known for agility.
Among the People of Yatun, Inya's strength was merely above average, but compared to outsiders, she was a master among masters.
"Clang, clang!"
"Bam!"
Ouke managed to block Inya's attacks twice in a row, but was caught off-guard by a sudden kick to the abdomen and went flying, smashing into a tree.
"Are you really a big fish?"
Inya toyed with her one-handed sword, spinning it into a series of sword flowers: "But you're much weaker than the Tin-toothed Boar, and you call yourself a boss? You can't be serious, right?"
It was a joke Bailuo had once made, which Inya was now mimicking. The mockery in her tone nearly made Ouke spit blood.
"You damn woman!"
Three People of Yatun; they were honestly seeing ghosts tonight!
Had he kicked a hornet's nest?
That village turned out to be a den of People of Yatun!
Ouke now realized the situation; he had been deceived, duped by those damned foolish swindlers.
What harmlessness, this was harmlessness!!!
"Regroup! Surround them, don't engage, block with the shields!"
Ouke knew he had to fight. The ferocity of the People of Yatun was no less than a monster's.
But Ouke knew he was no match for Inya, so he ordered the remaining mercenaries to concentrate and immediately planned to use the overwhelming numbers tactic.
You absolutely can't go one-on-one against a Person of Yatun.
Fighting duels with a Person of Yatun was simply courting death!
Excellent command, superior equipment, a strong battle formation, and planning—that's the undeniable way to defeat the People of Yatun.
"Finish him quickly."
The voice came from behind Inya. Ouke turned to the sound.
But with one look, Ouke was stunned: "How, how is this possible..."
At a glance, he saw that the mercenaries and the servants accompanying the merchant caravan had become nothing but corpses on the ground.