Caught off guard, a guard took an arrow to the chest and collapsed with a muffled groan.
Another guard's thigh was pierced by an arrow, sending him to his knees in agonizing pain as he let out a piercing shriek.
At the same time, fireballs and ice spikes flew out from behind the trees one after another, crashing around the carriages. Debris and dirt sprayed in all directions as the startled horses whinnied and bolted, throwing the scene into instant chaos.
“Ambush!” Peter's voice cracked with urgency.
“Shield Warriors, forward! Archers, return fire immediately! Mage, protect the carriages!”
The Shield Warriors quickly gathered, raising their shields to form a solid defensive line against the incoming arrows. The metallic clanging of arrows striking iron shields instantly echoed through the forest.
The archers returned fire toward the source of the attack. Soon, a scream echoed from the woods as a figure plummeted straight down from a tree.
The Mage quickly conjured a translucent shield in front of the carriages. Fireballs collided with the barrier, exploding into showers of sparks. The shield shuddered slightly but ultimately held.
The slave trader had already rolled off his carriage in terror, shrinking behind a wheel with a face pale as death.
He watched helplessly as a guard was tackled by a monster. A nearby companion hastily swung his blade, severing the monster's head, but its headless body continued to twitch on the ground, its claws scratching wildly.
The clashing of weapons and the agonizing screams of men filled the air, yet he was too paralyzed with fear to even move.
Peter unsheathed his sword, slashing down a monster that lunged at him with a backhand strike. He bellowed to the Shield Warriors, “Hold the line! Do not retreat!”
Then he spun toward the archers and shouted, “Shoot into the woods on the left! They're ambushing us from there!” Finally, he looked at the Mage, his voice frantic.
“Blast those monsters away! Don't let them tie down the Shield Warriors!”
The Mage's staff instantly lit up, and a wall of blazing fire erupted from the ground, separating the monsters from the guards.
The frenzied monsters caught fire, black smoke billowing from their bodies as they shrieked in pain. Yet they refused to back down, continuing their mad charge forward.
Unable to dodge in time, one guard was knocked to the ground by a monster. Its sharp claws dug deep into his chest, and blood instantly sprayed out, staining the earth red.
Fortunately, an archer fired just in time. The arrow pierced the monster's skull, and it finally went limp, completely motionless.
In the opposite woods, a grey-robed figure peeked out from behind a tree, drew his bow, and shot a guard in the shoulder.
The guard cried out, his shield slipping from his grasp.
Their own archers retaliated immediately, hitting the grey-robed man in the arm. He grunted, quickly ducking back behind the tree, not daring to show his face again.
Deeper in the forest, another enemy mage was chanting a spell under his breath, an icy blue light gathering in his palm. He was clearly preparing a powerful spell.
Detecting the threat instantly, their own Mage pointed his staff, sending a stream of fire shooting forward that cleanly interrupted the enemy's casting.
The enemy mage shrieked, clutching his face as blood seeped through his fingers. He had clearly sustained a severe injury.
“They're over there!” Peter yelled to the archers, pointing in the direction of the enemy mage.
“Fire!”
Two arrows flew in response. A muffled groan echoed from the woods, followed by the heavy thud of something collapsing to the ground.
Peter cut down another lunging monster, wiped the blood and grime from his face, and looked deep into the forest.
By now, several of the ambushers in the woods had been shot down. Their own Shield Warriors had stabilized their defense, and the Mage's shield remained intact. The tide was slowly turning in their favor.
“Warriors, charge in! Archers, cover them! Mage, charge your spell!” Peter dared not delay. If the enemy had reinforcements, being trapped here would be disastrous.
They had to end this quickly, eliminate the ambushers in the woods, and leave this dangerous area as soon as possible.
Several sword-wielding guards rushed forward at the command, and the Shield Warriors stepped aside to open a path.
The archers drew their bows to the limit, aiming at the edge of the forest, ready to suppress any enemy counterattack.
The Mage held his staff high. Mana gathered at its tip, gradually glowing with a pale blue light as he prepared to strike.
But just then, strange golden flashes suddenly flickered through the forest.
The light was not offensive; it merely flickered through the shadows of the trees, casting brief glows on the forest floor like someone repeatedly striking matches in the dark.
Immediately after, a chorus of shouts erupted from the woods.
They did not sound like battle cries, but rather heart-wrenching screams of agony. People were weeping and groaning, their voices rising in a chaotic din from several directions at once.
Peter gripped his sword tightly, staring into the pitch-black woods as a profound sense of unease welled up inside him.
Something was wrong. They hadn't even charged in yet, so why were there such agonizing screams coming from the other side?
Was it an act? Were they faking it to lure them into a reckless charge?
“Stop!” Peter raised his hand abruptly, sharply halting the guards who were about to charge.
“Don't go in! It might be a trap!”
The guards stopped at the edge of the forest, turning back to look at Peter with bewildered expressions.
Peter's gaze remained locked on the darkness, trying to make sense of the chaotic screams.
But the sounds were too chaotic, rising and falling in a way that truly sounded like people undergoing extreme torture. It didn't seem faked.
Before Peter could figure out the mystery, the forest suddenly fell into a dead silence. All the screams vanished instantly, leaving only the clear rustling of leaves in the wind.
A second later, the counterattack arrived as expected.
The volley of arrows was even denser than before, raining down from all directions without a single blind spot.
One Shield Warrior was unfortunately struck in the shoulder. He grunted as his shield tilted slightly, creating a gap in the defense.
Another guard's thigh was pierced by an arrow once more, sending him to his knees with a shriek even more agonizing than before.
Fireballs and ice spikes rained down on the carriages with even greater ferocity. Hit repeatedly, the surface of their Mage's shield began to crack, on the verge of shattering at any moment.
“They have reinforcements!” some guard screamed in panic, his voice thick with terror.
Peter's face turned instantly pale.
They had clearly taken down several ambushers just moments ago, so how could so many enemies suddenly appear?
Or were those screams a complete illusion? Perhaps those people hadn't died at all and were merely baiting them to lower their guard.
He had no time to think. The current situation left no room for hesitation.
“Abandon those two carriages!” Peter gritted his teeth, hardening his heart.
“We take only the most important one and break through!”
The guards froze for a fraction of a second before immediately springing into action to execute the order.
They cut the ropes connecting the carriages, brought the one carrying the small cage to the front, and mounted their horses.
Meanwhile, the other two carriages carrying ordinary slaves were left behind.
The people inside the cages were lost and helpless. Some screamed in panic, others reached out to grip the bars tightly, but they could only watch as the caravan's silhouette gradually receded, abandoned in the dark behind them.
Just then, the monsters that had been relentlessly pursuing the guards suddenly seemed to have all their strength drained, collapsing to the ground one by one.
One of them struggled on the ground for a few moments, its claws scraping uselessly at the dirt.
Peter had no time to ponder the reason, chalking it up to sheer luck as he barked, “Go! Hurry! Don't stop!”
The carriage sped forward, guards keeping close pace on both sides. The archers fired back over their shoulders as they ran, slowing down the pursuers behind them.
The path ahead was extremely narrow, barely wide enough for a single carriage to pass.
Peter rode at the very front, his heart pounding relentlessly.
He told himself over and over that as long as they could break out, the pursuers would never catch up.
But when they had only run a dozen meters, the ground suddenly swelled violently.
It was as if some massive entity was thrusting upward from beneath the earth. Chunks of dirt and gravel exploded outward, instantly forming a half-man-high earth wall across the road, completely blocking their path.
Startled, the horses neighed wildly, their front hooves rearing high into the air, nearly throwing Peter from his saddle.
He pulled back hard on the reins, struggling to steady himself. His horse paced anxiously in place, only calming down after a good while.
Peter looked up, his brow furrowed. The road was completely blocked. While a person might scale it, the crucial carriage had no way of passing.
“An Earth Mage...” Peter gritted his teeth, understanding everything in an instant.
This wasn't bad luck; the enemy had never intended to let them leave alive from the very start.
From the tampered monsters to the ambush in the woods, and now this sudden earth wall—every single step was calculated with absolute precision.
Their goal was never to plunder goods, but to pin this entire group down in the forest forever.
He glanced back. The footsteps of their pursuers were drawing closer. Though they had not yet come into view, they weren't far behind.
The vital carriage was stuck before the earth wall. The driver tugged frantically at the reins, but the horse remained anxious, whinnying and refusing to take a single step forward.
Most of the guards were wounded, gasping for breath, yet they still gripped their weapons, ready to fight at any second.
Peter dismounted, his heavy boots crunching loudly on the gravel, a sound that felt exceptionally harsh in the silence.
Drawing his sword once more, Peter turned and stood at the very rear of the group, facing the direction they had come from.
He did not know how long he could hold out, but he knew in his heart that today, they would either fight with everything they had to break out, or they would all die here.
There was no third option.
Just then, a rod-like object suddenly shot out of the woods, tearing through the air with a sharp whistle before slamming into the carriage's hitch.
With a loud crack, the wood snapped. The carriage tilted violently, its wheel wedged firmly into the roadside gravel, leaving the entire vehicle stranded.
The object drove straight into the soil ahead, shuddering briefly before falling still.
Peter focused his gaze and realized it was an oddly shaped staff. Its head was thick and heavy, while its tail was as sharp as a spike.
Rather than a standard staff used by mages, it looked more like a deadly, honed weapon.
Before he could recover from his shock, the staff pulled itself out of the ground with a sharp whoosh.
As if pulled by an invisible thread, it flew back into the woods, vanishing into the heavy darkness in the blink of an eye.
Peter's heart sank straight to the bottom. He recognized the owner of that staff instantly.
“Scatter! Prepare for battle!” he roared in a hushed, urgent voice.
The guards quickly gathered, raising their shields outward to form a defensive ring around the crippled carriage.
The archers quickly nocked their arrows, aiming at the forest edge, while the Mage ignored his old arm injury, gritting his teeth to conjure another pale blue magic shield.
Yet perplexingly, even after waiting for a dozen seconds, the forest remained terrifyingly quiet, devoid of any movement.
Something was wrong. Extremely wrong.
Peter stared intently at the dark woods, his right eyelid twitching anxiously.
That previous strike had possessed incredible force. The attacker could have easily taken a life, yet they had only disabled the carriage.
Since they had laid an ambush, why were they hesitating to charge?
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, but he couldn't grasp a single clue.
As if in response to Peter's confusion, a barrage of attacks suddenly erupted from the forest once more.
Time ticked away, and their numbers steadily dwindled.
Another guard fell to an arrow, blood pouring from a wound in his thigh.
Peter quickly ordered someone to drag him behind the carriage for first aid, stepping up to take his place in the line.
But the attackers seemed endless. Even though they had shot down several, arrows continued to rain from the shadows without pause.
Even though screams of pain could be heard coming from the woods, the enemy's offensive did not weaken in the slightest.
The more Peter fought, the more alarmed he became, a thick shroud of doubt settling over his mind.
Just how many people were on the other side? Why couldn't they repel them no matter how hard they fought back?
Beside him, the slave trader huddled behind the carriage, his face pale as paper.
He looked around, seeing several guards already down and the remaining ones all injured.
The archers' quivers were nearly empty, and the Mage's shield was growing thinner, on the verge of shattering.
Gritting his teeth, he finally pulled a delicate small box from his chest. Upon opening it, a dark stone lay quietly inside.
This was his ultimate trump card. Had he not been pushed to a dead end, he would never have used it.
Biting his fingertip hard, he let his blood drip onto the stone.
The stone instantly flashed with a crimson glow, which quickly expanded into a dense red light.
The light poured out of the box like flowing water, washing over the carriage, the guards, and the wounded on the ground.
Finally, it formed a translucent barrier, shielding everyone securely within.
An arrow shot out of the woods immediately after, slamming into the barrier. As if hitting a solid wall, it was instantly deflected away.
Another arrow followed, but the result was the same. The barrier did not budge, not even showing a single ripple.
“This is...” A guard stared in a daze, muttering subconsciously.
“Stop talking!” the slave trader's voice cracked, thick with unmistakable panic.
“Clear the path ahead, quickly! This barrier won't last long!”
Peter's eyes lit up, and he immediately turned to shout to the Mage, “Mage! Blast open that earth wall ahead!”
Forcing himself to stand, the Mage shakily aimed his staff at the blocking gravel and earth.
A fireball roared forth, slamming into the earth wall. Debris sprayed as a gap was instantly blasted open.
Gritting his teeth, he fired another blast, widening the gap further.
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