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墨書 Inktalez
Arriving at the Second Trench, the number of spiders here was noticeably greater than in the first Trench.
As they delved deeper into the scene, Freyr found himself stunned. He had thought that his experiences during the so-called Insect War had prepared him for anything, but this battlefield was almost as large-scale as that war. He couldn't help but wonder how he had managed to survive in such an era.
Conservatively estimating, a war of this scale would claim at least three thousand soldiers, with some areas suffering losses in the tens of thousands. This included veterans who had served for over two years; new recruits would never be sent into such battles. The conflict with the Zerg was one of humanity's most painful wars in history, and they could only be described as a brutal race of slaughter machines on the battlefield.
The Hunters each possessed their own unique abilities. Soldiers relied on their damaged submachine guns and protective gear to repeatedly hold back the Zerg within the Trench. Freyr, still somewhat naive, jumped into the Trench but was immediately grabbed by a muscular man in armor by the collar. "Newbie, you don't need to go in there. Stay to the side and observe as an intern."
"I can kill enemies!" Freyr shouted.
"Hahaha, that's not happening. Medusa Boss's orders are clear; we can't let a rookie like you run wild. Just watch from the side, and if you have nothing to do, go fetch some bottled water and bandages. Leave the killing to us," the muscular man said dismissively, pushing Freyr away from the Trench.
The situation in the Trench was grim. Although the Muscular Hunter had a moment to rest, no one knew where the next deadly threat would come from. Suddenly, a dark figure lunged forward at high speed. The muscular man struggled but was knocked to the ground as sharp, tentacle-like appendages sliced off a large chunk of flesh from his shoulder.
Freyr picked up a slightly larger stone from the ground and smashed it toward the spider's vital spot. The stone landed directly in its mouth, which promptly dissolved it with a thick acid that dripped onto the ground with sizzling sounds. Fortunately, the Muscular Hunter turned his head just in time to avoid having the corrosive liquid splash onto his face.
Startled, the spider released its grip on the Muscular Hunter and turned its multifaceted eyes toward Freyr. Its powerful front limbs plunged into the ground with intent; Zerg attacks were designed for lethal precision aimed at critical points like the head. It was astonishing that a spider born less than a week ago could possess such intelligence.
Sweating profusely, Freyr managed to evade two of its front limbs, but its tooth-filled mouth slowly opened wide and lunged toward him just as he found himself unable to turn his neck to escape.
The Muscular Hunter rushed forward with a loud shout, swinging a heavy iron hammer awkwardly yet forcefully. With a resounding crack, dents appeared all over the juvenile spider's fragile shell as cracks formed along its edges. The impact left it severely injured; half of its body slumped down as several of its legs broke off.
Freyr finally caught his breath while the Muscular Hunter took another few steps forward. With powerful knees bent, he leaped up and brought down his ancient black iron hammer again with tremendous force. Another loud thud echoed as it struck the ground, creating a deep pit; the juvenile spider immediately ceased moving, its rear half completely mangled.
Only then did the muscular man touch his shoulder wound and mix some dirt with water to apply it directly onto his exposed flesh before glancing at Freyr and giving him a thumbs-up.
"Well done! I underestimated you; it turns out you have some use after all," he laughed heartily as he slowly set down his hammer and pulled out a sharp copper sword from his chest pocket. He tossed it toward Freyr. "You saved my life; this is yours now. This sword is very tough—made from alien meteorite—three times harder than steel and sharp enough to cut through gold."
"What do you mean by 'a bit useful'?" Freya muttered under her breath. However, the other party immediately sent over a sword, a fine weapon that would indeed prove useful in battle.
He began to reminisce about a dagger he had used in his past life, known as the Demon Blade, the Atakan Dagger. That blade was also something he had purchased from someone else, stained with the blood of the Zerg. No matter how much he cleaned it, the intricate patterns on the blade still bore remnants of that blood, unable to return to its original state.
Later on, the owner of that dagger faced defeat in battle. Shortly after acquiring it, Freyr's prowess on the battlefield became particularly notable, and thus the name Demon Blade came to be.
"Let’s call it Crimson Sun," Freyr murmured symbolically.
Wielding the dark red patterned steel sword in the air felt like targeting each Insectoid body, slicing them in half.
"Alright, I'll take care of you, Buck. From now on, you're my brother. Even if I die, I won't let you die," Muscular Hunter Buck said as he approached and patted Freyr's shoulder firmly. He then tore a strip of cloth from his pants and wrapped it around Freyr's wound.
"Good, go kill some enemies!" After finishing these tasks, Buck hurriedly returned to his original position. He lifted a large iron hammer from the ground and rested it on his shoulder as if waiting for something.
Most of Medusa's hunters occupied the area of the Second Trench, primarily because their close combat abilities were particularly outstanding. With Medusa's Shield providing cover, they could withstand light injuries without retreating.
However, Medusa's Shield was merely an illusionary shield conjured by her mind; while it could turn opponents to stone, its effectiveness had diminished significantly. The defensive capabilities appeared weaker over time; ultimately, a powerful ability-based shield could not compare to a real physical shield.
As the shield faded away, casualties began to emerge among the Hunters in the Trench area.
Two-Star Hunter Menechdar swung his arms, summoning a three-meter-tall stone golem nearby. He continued shouting, "Don't act recklessly! Minimize casualties! Medusa's legion, if you're tired, switch out for cover and rest. The attack point is now Zaleth—attack!" As he spoke, the stone golems swung their stone arms, smashing any Juvenile Spiders that appeared into bloody pulp.
Zaleth commanded, "Charge! Don't let them through."
"Understood."
Medusa turned her head to look at her comrades beside her and waved her hand, saying, "Retreat. We were too careless. Cross-cover, don't let your guard down. Keep your focus on the battlefield and remember to rest; we still have a chance."
War changes in an instant, and even hunters are ultimately human, limited by their physical stamina. Overusing their abilities can accelerate the depletion of their energy. More often than not, they didn't want the Hunters they had personally trained to fall in a single battle.
An aura swirled around them as Zaleth's legion activated their abilities. In the next moment, some could create Mind Bombs while others could shoot arrows infused with their abilities. Suddenly, the sounds of explosions and roars echoed once more.
These individuals possessed release-type Ability Hunters, turning a three-meter radius into an offensive zone. At the slightest movement, artillery would swiftly provide support, feathers flying in unison.
At this moment, the soldiers stationed on one side could only stare blankly; their line of sight was limited. However, the training methods of hunters differed from those of ordinary people; no rustle of grass or whisper of wind escaped their ears. Within the area, screams occasionally pierced through the air.
The retreating Medusa legion did not slack off; they seized the moment to rest. Medusa was desperately drinking water when she noticed Freyr had also joined the battle. She refrained from greeting him immediately; her status did not permit such actions at this moment.
The battle was tense. The release-type Ability Masters of Zaleth's hunter legion did not allow any insects to approach. The number of bugs that could survive such extensive bombardment was truly minimal. At this rate, no spiders would pass through the second trench.
Just then, a figure rapidly emerged from the rear trench.
"Is it already over?"
A man clad in samurai armor realized within just a few breaths that victory seemed imminent. The insects no longer dared to come close; the area ahead had become remarkably clean. Perhaps it was time to change the battlefield's layout. Half a kilometer away, in Trench Three, the sounds of artillery continued unabated. Good looked up at the dark clouds looming in the distance; it seemed that a heavy rain was about to fall in this area.
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