Bear School Astartes

Chapter 1090 - 1071: Curse Technique: Fireball

"Get inside! Get inside, meow!"

In front of the shield formation opened by the guards, Rong Buqiu wielded the Thunder Cat Sword in one hand while ushering a few non-combatants behind him inside.

The soldiers holding their shields in front of them were already exhausted, looking dumbfounded at the small cat who wore clothes, wielded a sword, talked, and had just slain three or four beastmen before their eyes.

"What exactly is happening today? Am I having a nightmare?"

The guard mumbled to himself.

But Bard, seeing the battlefield become slightly clearer and calmer, hugged his three children as if he had survived a disaster.

He closed his eyes, his face full of relief.

"Thank you." Bard said to Rong Buqiu and Philipp with a deep voice, "Thank you for saving my children."

"No problem, meow!"

The small cat replied warmly and cheerfully, feeling very happy to help others.

But Philipp had no time to respond to Bard; he threw the blacksmith hammer-turned-weapon in his hand to the ground, even spat on it for good measure.

Along the way, he had been carrying a sack of crude modified weapons, which mostly broke after a few clashes with beastmen or were simply bent out of shape during battle, changing the weapon’s center of gravity, making them unusable.

By the time they got here, only a hammer remained in the sack.

There were plenty more weapons on the ground, so Philipp immediately walked over, picking up and equipping himself with several swords and knives to feel a bit more secure.

However, in such circumstances, moments of respite were rare and short-lived.

It seemed that when Rong Buqiu, Philipp, and their group were moving on the street, the beastmen had spotted them.

With their target confirmed, the beastmen naturally began to gather strength, aiming to break through the square, and ruthlessly eliminate both the target and the townsfolk in one fell swoop.

This was not good news.

Up to now, the number of beastmen was uncertain; Bard and the others only knew these ugly creatures seemed to be indulging their desires for destruction and slaughter throughout the town.

Moreover, if they simply intended to kill, employing a fire attack on this square... They had occupied almost the entire Long Lake Town excluding the square. Combustibles, if they wished to find them, shouldn’t be hard to come by.

And the guards’ shields were merely ordinary wooden shields covered in iron, lacking any power to resist flames.

But to Bard and the dwarves’ bewilderment, the beastmen didn’t seem inclined, or perhaps lacked the ability to execute a fire attack.

Though uncertain why, the number charging in during melee was much lesser than estimated.

But even so, for a group who moments ago were fishermen, commoners, or merely guards for maintaining order and safety, the beastmen were still ferocious and terrifying professional killers and criminals.

The beastmen’s deformed mouths or throats emitted the unpleasant sound of ’how-lo how-lo,’ and their foul-smelling, grayish-white limbs wielded short knives or bizarre longswords, pressing like mad dogs against the Shield Guards defending the three entrances to the square.

From within the beastmen’s roars, saliva dripping from excitement due to blood was sprayed onto the faces of the opposing soldiers.

Making humans feel disgusted and terrified.

And in shield confrontation, fear and disgust, these psychological issues could weaken the strength on their arms.

"Whoosh!"

An arrow shot forth from behind the Shield Guards!

This arrow precisely grazed past the bodies of the guards, and the shields placed before them blocked most of the area, delivering a fatal strike through the gaps!

Embedding itself into the eye socket of the beastman pushing forward!

"Hold firm!" Bard kept his hands moving, drawing another arrow from the quiver on his back, shooting it out, "Press forward! Press forward! If you retreat again, you’ll make way for them!"

During those previous waves of beastmen’s attacks, Bard had naturally been recognized on the battlefield as the commander.

He already enjoyed prestige among the townsfolk, he was the descendant of Jirian, the Lord of River Valley City, and the refugees who fled from River Valley City acknowledged him.

Thus, he was seen as a threat to the mayor of Long Lake Town.

And with the mayor turning into the manor, seemingly vanished since then, everyone knew he was likely hiding.

Hence, power naturally shifted away from those who dared not embrace it to find a new bearer.

Bard became that bearer.

Additionally, Bard’s archery was widely known to be excellent.

Though there were other hunters among the townsfolk skilled in using bows and arrows, the guards dared not let these people stand behind them on the same level to shoot arrows.

Who knows whether they’d perish from the beastmen or an arrow in the back?

Only Bard, whose archery skills the townsfolk claimed could compare to elves... though no one among them had likely seen elves.

"All elderly and children coming in afterward! Get into the manor behind! Men go and grab weapons from the ground to fight! Hurry!"

Bard shouted while shooting arrows, managing to achieve perfect accuracy even when his breath was unstable.

"Go in?" An elderly man who had just walked in asked, trembling, "But, but that’s the mayor’s manor."

"Who cares about some damn mayor at this moment? Just go in! Plenty are already inside!"

The elderly and children newly entering the square’s defense circle supported each other, panicked running towards the manor amidst lingering terror.

Bard’s three children were very understanding; even the youngest girl helped a child of her age, nodding towards their father before sending the child into the manor.

The children’s actions filled Bard with pride and satisfaction, but simultaneously... the gaze of this human archer at the beastmen outside squeezing inward grew ever more dangerous.

For his children and everyone’s lives here, between these beastmen and him, only one side could live!

For survival, for their families’ survival, both sides were pushing forward, gritting their teeth, as if trying to squeeze out the other’s blood and guts in the process.

Bard kept shooting arrows from the back of the line with his archery skills.

Meanwhile, Sorlin, his face smeared with blood, strode toward Bard with his Beastman Bite Sword.

A dwarf tugged on Bard’s belt and spoke to him in a deep voice.

"We have to move, Bard!"

"You’re thinking of running away? Has the mighty King Under the Mountain lost the courage to enter the battlefield?!"

Amidst the tense and anxious situation, Bard’s first reaction was like this.

The entire town was burning now, the flames casting upward black smoke into the night, which mingled with the darkness outside the range of the firelight, indistinguishable.

The cold weather and the heat of the fire swept intermittently over the air in waves, chaotically interweaving, combining with the dazzling flames to make people’s heads spin.

Bard’s mind was also getting a bit muddled.

But Sorlin yanked Bard’s upper body down, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Calm down, Archer!"

"Think of the plan Lann mentioned at your place!"

Sorlin spoke steadily, while tapping his own chest with his fingers.

"In the eyes of the Beastmen, we dwarves are far more important than you! As long as we leave right in front of them, they won’t stay in Long Lake Town a single minute longer."

Indeed, with Sorlin’s reminder, Bard recalled Lann’s statement.

But... letting the dwarves leave?

Where would the dwarves go after leaving, wasn’t it clear to him? These dwarves had already played their cards—they were going to Lonely Mountain to reclaim their kingdom.

If the dwarves left today, it could avert a disaster. But what about tomorrow?

When the dwarves reached Lonely Mountain and awakened that evil dragon, prophecies foretold, Long Lake would ignite with war and destroy everything!

"What are you hesitating for, Bard!"

Sorlin demanded sharply.

"Your people are dying!"

"They’re not my people!"

"My God! Come on! They trust you, have elected you, gathered around you in chaos, fighting alongside you, and now you say they’re not your people? Are you not ashamed?"

"Are you just going to stand by and watch the Beastmen continue their massacre?"

Bard’s eyes flickered, his lips pressed tight, his gaze quickly shifting over the guards, the armed male townsfolk, the dwarves, and the distant silhouette of Lonely Mountain.

The emotions of a difficult choice were almost palpable.

The current Beastmen, or the impending dragon threat?

"Whew~"

Bard exhaled a difficult breath, prompting Sorlin to nod and release the grip on Bard’s collar, stepping back.

Actually, there’s no choice now.

Human beings always prefer to live one more day, after all.

And just as Bard was about to make arrangements...

"Boom!!!"

A loud explosion sounded, along with the corner extending from the pathway before the square entrance.

An explosive wave and surging flames erupted!

Many fractured, unidentifiable Beastman limbs were blown out with the shockwave, finally landing with a thud in the wooden houses across the waterway.

"Meow?"

Rong Buqiu, small and lightweight, had been leaping overhead through the crowd, attacking with the Thunder Cat Sword. Its sword was stuck atop a Beastman’s head, and then the Elu Cat holding onto the sword handle looked toward the direction of the explosion.

Heavy, steady footsteps came from the origin of the corner explosion.

In the flickering firelight, a gigantic shadow was cast.

Lann emerged from that corner.

Although his Aron Dite in his right hand didn’t allow blood to stick on its surface, after cutting down Beastmen, it still had a trickle of blood rolling down its blade, finally flowing clean.

And in his left palm, a fist-sized Fireball hovered.

The Fireball’s surface was constantly rolling; just looking at it conveyed its power.

This world might possess many magics and mysterious wonders, yet often lacked impressive audiovisual effects.

Like the tomb sealing the Angmar Witch King, apart from being a bit eerie, it barely betrayed the potent magic set by the Northern Kingdom.

Wizards’ magic often manifested as uniformly flickering white light.

The appearance of [Curse Technique·Fireball] was a spectacle of both power and visual impact.

The humans holding shields upfront opened their mouths wide behind their shields, and those Beastmen squeezing forward from behind turned their heads in alarm.