Our Family Has Fallen

Although these were superficial flesh wounds, the more the Barbarian warriors struggled, the more grievous their injuries became. Each movement felt like death by a thousand cuts, a slow dismemberment, and this horrific condition made them scream in agony.

What was even worse was the plight of the white wolves. Under Grendel’s intentional control, grass reaching a man’s leg height completely submerged them.

Many people misunderstood Grendel’s strength. She was an heir to a tribe; her upbringing in the environment of the Mountain Barbarian Tribe proved her strength could not be weak. Otherwise, she would not have held out for so long against the Witch.

Back then, their tribe was slaughtered because Warwolf had mobilized the entire Fang Tribe. This was the culmination of force accumulated by their pack leader over more than a decade of enduring hardship, supplemented by the Priest’s spellcasting, which drew upon the Wolf God’s power to suppress their enemies, catching the unprepared Deerhead Tribe off guard.

But now, there was no absolute disparity in numbers between the two sides, nor was there a Priest channeling the Wolf God’s power to suppress her. Although she couldn’t overpower Warwolf, she demonstrated extraordinary strength when clearing out the foot soldiers.

Seeing this, Warwolf didn’t hesitate and stepped directly into the Domain of the Strangler Vines, charging through the field with remarkable force. The branches and leaves didn’t even need to be controlled to attach themselves to him; only his excessively vigorous and almost inhuman hair withstood most of the damage. Even when the hooked vines sliced at his legs, they failed to break the skin. The Strangler Vines failed to hinder him even slightly and were breached, large swaths casually uprooted with a mere wave of his hand.

”Hmph!”

Grendel had just shown she was not one to be captured without a fight. She waved her Magic Wand, and the Strangler Vines grew even thicker. No longer spreading randomly like seaweed, they intertwined under her control, forming an arm-thick, floral-green Grass Python that lunged straight for Warwolf.

Strangle—Wild Python!

But this display failed to make Warwolf take the situation seriously. He didn’t even bother to swing his Battle Axe, instead reaching out with lightning speed to seize the probing Grass Python.

This secret technique was not so simple. Grendel shifted tactics; the Grass Python began to split and retaliate, wrapping around his fist like a python swallowing prey, even creeping up his arm in an attempt to engulf him completely.

Strangle—Serpent Devour!

”Had enough playing around?!” Warwolf roared, the muscles on his exposed arm instantly tensing as if cast from steel. His fingers, like steel drills, grasped the Strangler Vines and exerted fierce force.

An astonishing scene unfolded: the entire ground heaved under his pull as he single-handedly uprooted the Grass Python. His ferocious demeanor and fierce visage were akin to a wrathful Arhat subduing a naga. Once uprooted and stripped of their empowered strength, the Strangler Vines forming the Grass Python withered and shriveled in his grasp, eventually turning into dried twigs and fallen leaves scattered on the ground.

With a single blow, he destroyed the secret technique Grendel had driven with all her might.

Innate talent, relentless effort, and divine favor had forged Warwolf into the Champion of the Mountains; this was the disparity of absolute strength. Grendel easily slaughtered those Elite warriors, but likewise, Warwolf slaughtered her just as ruthlessly. At times, the disparity in strength between Transcendent individuals was even more severe than class differences. If you couldn’t beat them, you simply couldn’t.

The reason the Deerhead Tribe had nearly faced extinction was their lack of martial prowess. During the clashes between Priests, their Natural Spirit Deer God was suppressed by the Wolf God, severely crippling the tribe’s Priesthood, their spiritual backbone. At that time, without someone of Champion-level strength comparable to Warwolf to hold him back, the common tribespeople’s defenses were effortlessly breached, leading to a swift and widespread defeat.

Grendel seemed to feel the powerlessness of that year again; facing Warwolf, she had no recourse but to watch his massacre unfold.

With one strike, Warwolf had broken through the Strangler Vines and rescued the warriors. They looked battered, their legs a bloody mess, but Warwolf had acted so swiftly they suffered only flesh wounds, no fatal injuries. With their pain receptors dulled, they could still fight!

The white wolves also broke free. They were in somewhat better condition, as their thick fur had blocked most of the damage. However, visible wounds on their faces and limbs made the already ferocious white wolves appear even more terrifying.

The attack commenced. They charged once more, emboldened by Warwolf’s presence. Though numbering just over a dozen, they mustered an indomitable momentum.

Although the time Grendel had bought them gave the soldiers a moment’s respite, now lacking their captain—their backbone—their hearts felt like ash. An atmosphere of desperate heroism began to spread among them.

”Cover the Lord’s retreat...”

These words, similar to ”let the leaders retreat first,” caused no resentment among the other soldiers. They were prepared to die in battle, but their deaths had to mean more—to trade their lives for something of greater value to their Lord. In their eyes, Grendel was a person of great worth; Hamlet could do without them, but not without its Pharmacist.

Facing the invading Barbarian Tribes, they said nothing, merely gripping their weapons tightly. Even the wounded leaned on each other to stand, their eyes, fixed on the enemy, devoid of fear. It was a resolve that transcended death itself, enough to express their intent.

”For Hamlet!”

Just then, a unified cry rose above the clearing. Another squad of soldiers arrived to reinforce them, intercepting from the flank just as Warwolf and his warriors charged.

”Kill!”

The appearance of this squad immediately drew the attention of most of the white wolves and Barbarian warriors. Among these soldiers, one particularly tall figure wielding a Lumber Axe stood out. Frankly, his stature, only a head shorter than Warwolf, made him hard to miss.

A Barbarian warrior and his companion targeted him, knowing that hunting stronger prey would please the Wolf God. The white wolf lunged at him first, only to be caught single-handedly. Without even using his axe, he snapped its neck. The accompanying warrior roared in anger and thrust his Spear at him, but the tall soldier grabbed the white wolf’s carcass and threw it at the attacker. The Spear pierced the white wolf’s body. Before the warrior could withdraw it, an axe fell, stopping squarely before his face.

Just when the warrior thought his end was certain, the axe suddenly stopped. A strange muttering reached his ears: ”The Lord said we can’t kill...”

With the ability to crush a white wolf with his left hand, who else could wield such tremendous strength if not Barin, the lumberjack?

Another patrol had sought out Barin before Grendel’s arrival, intending to investigate what had happened to the severely wounded white wolf. Then, summoned by the beacon smoke, they had rushed back, arriving on the scene and immediately moving to rescue their comrades.

Barin demonstrated powerful combat instincts. But the problem was, he had never killed a man before! He only knew the Lord’s rule against killing and wasn’t sure if it applied to these individuals.

The warrior seized this momentary hesitation, swiftly withdrawing his Spear and attempting to pierce Barin’s body. But Barin caught the Spear with a backhand grip. In the contest of strength, the warrior was instantly overpowered, feeling an irresistible force wrenching the Spear from his hands.

Hearing Barin’s muttered words, and recognizing his hesitation, one of the soldiers shouted, ”They’re enemies! Finish him off!”

Finally understanding, Barin no longer hesitated. He brought his axe down on the warrior’s head, ending his life instantly. These warriors, who had suffered continuous setbacks on their journey, finally met their end. Perhaps only in this moment did they truly find release.

However, the warrior’s death enraged Warwolf. He had no such reluctance to swing his Battle Axe at these men as he’d shown with Grendel.

”Be careful!” Grendel, sensing something amiss with Warwolf, hastily warned. She then swung her Magic Wand, driving the remaining Strangler Vines to entangle Warwolf’s steps.

But the vines were torn apart instantly. Warwolf had already crossed the distance between them in long strides, swinging his Battle Axe towards Barin.

Barin reacted sharply, showing no sign of weakness as he swung his own Lumber Axe in retaliation.