The Sword Saint’s Second Life As a Fox Girl

2-50 Midnight

The defence of Quinteburgh persisted into the dark of the night. While the Razor Grizzly was attacking the west gate, thralls and minions of the Necromancer had begun their assault on the other gates. Although the monsters didn’t reach the number of the Undeads assaulting the west gate, it was still a considerable amount considering the defenders of the other gates were less seasoned and skilled than the defenders of the west gate. Such formation was designated since the best was needed to fight against the Razor Grizzly.

The consolation for the defenders of the other gates was that their opponents weren’t something they were unfamiliar with. However, night had descended and tides of the battle were beginning to change. The nocturnal monsters were slowly gaining an edge.

The north gate was faced with waves of Dire Wolves and Serks. Among the defenders, the most prominent ones were the Blackwood Wolf-kin siblings, Siv and Wrev. They were the pillars for this gate’s defense. Their prowess was the only reason the gate had yet to be breached by the monsters. They were the personal guards of Lord Hegan but under their master’s order, they were dispatched as defenders for the north gate. They originally wanted to be stationed at the west gate but since they couldn’t leave the defense for other gates too weak, they were stationed at this gate.

“Weak. Weak. Weak!!” shouted Wrev as he cleaved through the monsters without stopping to catch his breath. He wielded a greatsword, perfect for culling monsters in large quantities. Since the monsters were lunging at him one after another. He did not worry about his accuracy. Wherever he swung, the large blade of his would surely found a target. There were no monsters on the level of the Razor Grizzly so the tension at this side was lower.

“Focus, Wrev!” reprimanded Siv. She was not using a sword by a polearm with an axe blade head.  “They may be weak but don’t underestimate the strength in number. Do you still remember what happened to cousin Rir?”

Wrev clicked his tongue and continued carving through the Dire Wolves and Serks. “Fuck all of this. Why can’t we be at the west gate?”

Siv sighed and gave up on retorting.

Though Wrev acted like the words of his sister were mere wind to his ears, he was actually being more careful with his actions. One of the most common causes for adventurers’ death was underestimating their predicament, namely the monsters. He had an older cousin Rir, had. Strongest of all the youngbloods of his generation but ultimately died to a swarm of Rot-rats. He found the Rot-rats’ nest. Being the strongest, his arrogance took over his reasoning. Wrev remembered it well. No funeral pyre was lit for his cousin for he died in a dishonourable way. “I don’t want that,” Wrev said to himself.

The Dire Wolves and Serks were common foes he faced in his journey. They were monsters that could be found anywhere on the continent. He knew their attack patterns. He knew their behaviors. However, the Dire Wolves and Serks he was fighting were much too different than the ones he knew. Fear, doubts, teamwork, all of those were absent from them. The monsters were just throwing themselves at him. Even if a monster didn’t have much intelligence, the desire to survive was primal, but not for these monsters.

“The Guild Master was right. You all really are nothing but thralls,” Wrev muttered silently to himself.

While Wrev was having an epiphany of his own, Siv was trying to figure out the trepidation she had been feeling ever since the start of the battle. The abnormal behavior of the monsters were well-known rumors and just before the start of the defense preparation, the rumor was confirmed by the Guild Master to be true. Aside from that abnormality, Siv’s instinct as a beast-kin was going off like a bell tower on the stroke of midnight.

“Weird,” she thought. “To assault a town of this scale with only this much of an army, what is the Necromancer thinking? Did he underestimate the town’s fighting force? Or...”

A wave of dreadful aura swept over the siblings and also the other fighters present at the defense lines of the north gate. Some were frozen from the dread and ended up getting mauled by the monsters. Wrev also fell prey to a similar situation but Siv moved fast before the monsters could swarm her brother.

“Damn it!” Siv yelled. “I told you to stay focused.”

“I know!” Wrev shouted back. “What the hell was that anyway?”

“I don’t know but we best be on our toes,” Siv said. She tried using her nose but the monsters’ scent was too overwhelming to tell them apart. However, ever since the evil aura swept past them, the odor had only gotten heavier.

The numbers of Serks and Dire Wolves eventually dwindled to an amount that could be fought off with just a small party. But this was where the circumstances escalated.

“What the fuck is that!?” one of the soldiers shouted as he pointed at the trees.

Siv and Wrev followed the soldier’s finger and found a Wight striding out of the woods while dragging a large battle axe with it. It was wearing metal armor. Siv surmised the Wight might have been a knight or a soldier when it was still alive.

“Siv… that Wight… he’s strong,” Wrev said. After killing all the monsters who were surrounding him, he poured all of his attention at the Wight. “Stronger than the Fox-kin who robbed you of your virtue.”

Siv sighed. “This is no time for jokes, Wrev. But you’re right, this Wight might be stronger than Lady Erinthea.”

“Oh… oh my god...” gasped the only mage at the north gate. He was also the only one with the rare skill, Appraisal. “It’s… level twenty-five...”

“Hmph,” huffed a bulky adventurer who wielded a mace befitting of his size. “I am level twenty-seven. This Wight is nothing.” The bulky adventurer charged ahead after his boast.

The mage wasn’t done talking. “Wait, the Wight has—”

Flame engulfed the blade of the Wight’s axe. It swung at the bulky adventurer who had just raised his mace. The adventurer dodged to the side, avoiding the axe’s blow.

“Such an obvious move!” the adventurer mocked and smashed his mace against the Wight’s head. The head flew off its shoulder with just that one swing. “What a joke. And I expected more!” the adventurer guffawed.

“Get away from that Wight now!” Siv shouted.

Having let his guard down, the bulky adventurer was too late to respond. Headless, the Wight still moved. Its axe pulverized the bulky adventurer with a single swing. The flames spread to the adventurers’ mangled corpse and set it alight. What remained of the bulky adventurer was only ashes.

Siv watched in horror at the Wight’s abilities. A decapitation did not kill it and its flaming axe incinerated its victim to ashes. It was not an ordinary Wight like she was informed. The Guild Master did warn them of expecting the unordinary but their imagination was too feeble. Siv had wanted to help but her instincts had forced her to stay. She wondered what would happen if she had tried to help but immediately, she banished the thought. There was no use pondering about the past when the present was heralding a bleak future.

“Can we even beat this thing?” Wrev asked.

“We have to,” Siv answered as she activated her Beast Form. “Or the townsfolk suffer.”

Seeing his sister’s decision, Wrev too activated his Beast Form.

****

Goblins and Kobolds swarmed the east gate. They were weaker and slower than most monsters around these parts but their opposable thumbs allow them to utilize tools to their advantage. Their intelligence wasn’t great but they were no fools either. Tools weren’t the only things they had, there was also poison. Their weapons were laced with poison, oftentimes lethal.

“What the fuck is this shit!? Why don’t they just die!?” Edmund screamed as a Hobgoblin missed its swing with its wooden club. The Hobgoblin had received multiple arrows to its body but it was still standing. The same went for the other monsters. The Goblins and Kobolds were more tenacious than usual. They were fragile creatures but not at present.

Velrin Corvas sighed and kept her eyes on her foes. With two swords in hand, she slashed at all of the monsters in her vicinity. Though she found Edmund’s complaint a headache, his words couldn’t be denied. She was having some trouble herself too. She was only able to kill a Goblin by decapitation. She had cut its throat at first, stabbed its heart when it was still walking. Finally, she lopped its head off. Only then, the Goblin fell. 

“Since when are Goblins so goddamn strong!”

“They’re not immortal, Edmund,” Velrin responded. “They’re just a little stubborn to die. Cool ya head and keep swinging.”

The east gate was the only gate without soldiers. Adventurers were also only a few. The main force of the east gate was criminals. These criminals were promised a pardon if they succeeded in defending the gate. However, the pardon had a catch. They were to leave the town after their pardon. They would no longer be branded as criminals but it was impossible for the town to trust them just because they were pardoned. The reasoning was valid and the criminals accepted since this was the only chance they have. 

The pardon was even possible in the first place thanks to Erinthea. Although the person in question wasn’t present at the discussion, Iris and Rosemary understood Erin’s will and wishes well. This was the suggestion put forth to fulfil Erin’s wishes. Of course, the pardon was only limited to the twelve individuals Erin had met. There were other criminals but their pardon wasn’t assured unlike the twelve. Still, they rather take the chance than miss it. If they weren’t pardoned, they would not be executed due to their contributions. It was better than their current lifestyle. 

Be that as it may, that kind of future was beginning to look more like a mere dream. The Goblins and Kobolds had numbers but nowhere near the amount of the Serks and Dire Wolves. Still, their unexpected tenacity was pushing the defenders back. They were almost halfway to the second line of defense.

Spears of darkness impaled the tenacious monsters. Vines of shadows bound their movements. Velrin moved like the wind and fell the monsters before the binding could fade. While the north gate had the Blackwood siblings, the east gate had Velrin. She was the pillar of strength for this gate. Though her Abyss Magic was only level two, she wielded it like an adept. If she had the training a noble would have, no doubt her Abyss Magic would be higher than level five at this point.

“Rumulo!” Edmund shouted.

Hearing the name of their mutual friend, Velrin turned around just in time to see a Goblin Assassin emerging from the Goblin crowd, aiming for the one named Rumulo.

Velrin cast her Abyss Magic but before the spells could reach, the Goblin Assassin had claimed its target before retreating into the crowd.

“Rumulo!!” Velrin cried. She wanted to rush over immediately but monsters took advantage of her momentarily loss of focus and swarmed her. “Move!” she uttered the word like an order as she unleashed Abyss Magic around her. It expended a lot of her Mana but it cleared her surroundings. 

But before she could reach her fallen friend, her path was obstructed by a sudden fireball that came out of nowhere. The fireball was huge. It couldn’t be a fireball cast by anyone from her side. Realization dawned and she turned to face the caster.

“What the fuck…? Is that a Goblin?” Edmund asked in a stutter.

What appeared before them was a Goblin, or at least it looked like a Goblin. It was as tall as the average human. The features that made Edmund question the monster of its kind were due to its pair of large claws. They were as big as its head. The strange marks covering its body were also a foreboding sign of its deviant nature.

No one on this side had Appraisal but they all could feel the difference in strength.

“Is that a Hobgoblin?”

“You idiot. How does that look anything like a Hobgoblin?”

“Oi oi! Can we even fight that thing…?”

The adventurers began to break down at the sight of the new foe.

“A Goblin Warlock...” Velrin muttered with a gulp.

A Goblin Warlock was as rare as finding diamonds randomly in a cave. It was an evolution path that couldn't be achieved naturally. One of the requirements to become a Goblin Warlock was to devour the hearts of ten mages and spend its time in a mana dense environment, or so the scholars had said. Aside from the ability to cast spells, it was a formidable fighter in its own right. It was also seen as a leader by the other Goblins.

“A Goblin Warlock?! Are you fucking me!?” Edmund yelled as he lopped Kobold’s head off. “A pardon ain’t enough for this. We should have demanded more.”

“Yeah...” Velrin muttered. “Much more…” She swallowed another gulp as she prepared for the toughest fight of her life.