The Barta Tribe
Arthur had reached his conclusion.
The knights were beginning to clash with the ogres.
Truth be told, they weren't all that exceptional for knights.
You could call it fortunate if they managed to take down even one ogre.
But the ogres were falling with surprising ease.
Even though one knight had just been sent flying by a punch moments ago, he got right back up and charged at the ogre again.
Ogres were defined by their strength, above all else.
Yet this knight could stand immediately after a hit like that.
And seeing the beasts scatter into illusions after just a few slashes confirmed it.
All of Carman's stats had been boosted.
In other words, he had regained a portion of his power.
Carman's abilities enhanced.
"Urk!"
Just then, one knight's foot sank deep into the ground mid-stride.
'...He drew the earth.'
Arthur had seen it clearly.
There had been no pit in the ground.
But the moment the knight's foot touched down, it plunged in, throwing off his balance.
And the flat terrain that had been there just before was now deeply indented on one side.
He had drawn the ground flat to disrupt his equilibrium.
At that moment, the ogre swung down to crush the knight's skull.
Thuk!
Kraaaah!
An arrow slammed into the ogre's right eye.
Turning around, Arthur saw Aleo pulling another arrow from the quiver on his back as he charged toward the ogre.
Thuk!
Kraaaah!
Another of Aleo's arrows struck precisely into the ogre's throat.
'Impressive accuracy even while running.'
When they fought the goblins, he hadn't fully grasped their potential.
Goblins were easy prey for anyone.
But this ogre seemed to manifest about 40% of its original power, in Arthur's estimation.
And even that was no pushover.
Tatata!
The ogre smashed a heavy fist toward the swiftly advancing Aleo.
Kwajik!
The ground cratered, stones flying.
Aleo dodged as lightly as a feather, kicked off a tree, and soared into the air.
His drawn bowstring was aimed squarely at the ogre's head.
Thuk!
Sarrr!
The ogre vanished into mist.
Aleo and the other prisoners were hunting down the surrounding ogres at a blistering pace.
'These guys surpass even the Ironblood Legion.'
The Ironblood Legion.
Ten thousand soldiers and five hundred knights raised by the Kyle Empire on the Asgard Continent.
The legion's soldiers trained with weapons from birth, enduring brutal drills except for mealtimes.
Yet these prisoners, with the strength of mere foot soldiers, were outperforming the Ironblood Legion's troops.
Kraaaah!
"...!"
Then Arthur heard a deafening roar.
'This voice...'
Twin-Head Ogre.
Arthur didn't know the full extent of the novice Carman's power.
But he suspected it was a summon.
Some drawings were illusions, others real.
The real ones were likely summons.
Even downgraded, the Twin-Head Ogre was formidable.
Of course, it might be an illusion.
And Arthur could handle this mess.
But pushing to take down Carman would cost him heavy losses in soldiers and knights.
Not a perfect victory by his standards.
"Retreat! Fall back!"
In the end, Arthur made his call.
'I'll enlist the Barta tribe's aid.'
A tough path, but smooth sailing if he pulled it off.
He chose it.
Watching Arthur's forces retreat, Carman clutched his belly, cackling uncontrollably.
That arrogant little brat was pulling back with his knights.
"Trying to preserve his troops? What an idiot!"
If Arthur had charged in with all thousand soldiers and knights, Carman would've lost half his forces—but he'd have been caught.
"Are those worthless soldiers' lives that precious?"
Mere NPCs to him!
To Carman, who saw them as fabricated trash, it was pathetic.
Retreating for their sake?
"Dragging it out only benefits me!"
He glanced at the timer in the upper left.
When his gold dipped below 10% and he despaired at his troops dragging him down, the Dungeon Nurturing Device chimed—Akhan refilled his gold and boosted his stats.
In two hours, it'd happen again.
The side controlling the mountain had the edge anyway.
Stalling would doom the little twerp.
"If he'd just given up and returned to his territory sooner..."
It would've been an easier massacre.
Capture 30% of his forces, and Carman got a quest slashing 70 years off his 120-year sentence.
Snag the commander first, and he'd devour the leaderless troops.
Maybe wipe his sentence clean entirely.
His scout hawk soared high, eyeing the retreating forces.
"Where's that brat?"
His silver armor gleamed, easy to spot.
But he was gone.
"Fled?"
That was as far as his thoughts went.
Ditched his troops out of fear and bolted home.
Whatever—without the brat, he'd just wipe the forces and cut his sentence.
Presence irrelevant.
"Once my stats boost, I'll sweep them."
A bit short now.
Two hours from now, total annihilation.
After dropping 1,000 cash in the Cash Shop on troop teleportation and warping in, Arthur wasted no time crossing the transparent barrier.
The Barta tribe.
Noble folk, wielding bows primarily, riding wolves for transport.
A race as specialized in archery as the elves.
'Carman grows stronger with time.'
Carman gradually regains power over time.
Gold reserves will be replenished.
His current forces couldn't wipe Arthur's troops.
He had two hours to negotiate with the Barta.
His past life proved invaluable for intel like this.
Who would've guessed?
Beyond the subjugation force's invisible wall lay Barta territory.
But the Barta were noble isolationists.
They rarely crossed the wall.
Once, a young Barta had.
The tale spread among lords.
They confirmed Barta lived beyond—and could cross freely.
Barta never abandoned settlements, even unto death.
A young one's sighting proved their presence.
Deep in, Arthur halted.
Krrrar.
Kraaa!
Krrrar!
Dozens of wolves howled.
The savage roars signaled an intruder to the Barta.
Soon, Arthur felt the thick killing intent surrounding him.
Aimed solely at him.
Glancing around, hundreds of Barta had bows trained on him alone.
Blue-skinned giants averaging 2.4 meters, with a third eye on their foreheads.
Most rode ash-gray wolves larger than troll wolves, fur gleaming.
Ash Wolves.
No regeneration like troll wolves, but 3-star beasts.
Equal or superior to 2-star boss troll wolves.
Dismounted Barta emerged from brush, bows drawn.
One wrong word, and he'd be a pincushion.
Arthur tensed.
Barta shunned outsiders.
"Go back."
The lead, great warrior Kultu, spoke.
He noted Arthur's youth.
They avoided needless killing.
Especially unripe whelps.
To them, Arthur was a whelp human.
"Leave now, and we spare you."
Kultu warned firmly.
Arthur lowered his raised hands slowly, showing no threat.
"I have business..."
"Go back!"
Thuk!
No need for more—Kultu loosed an arrow.
It grazed strands of Arthur's shoulder-length silver hair, embedding in a tree.
Arthur saw his locks fall.
Krrar!
Kultu's ash wolf advanced slowly, growling from its massive maw.
Leave, or I'll chew you alive.
Kultu turned away with his wolf.
No tension for a mere boy.
Scared now, he'd flee.
But soon, Kultu's eyes widened.
A voice from behind.
"What if I can cure the Rukelmas plague?"
"...?"
The ash wolf, reading his mind, turned.
Barta grew with wolves from birth.
Each bonded to one lifelong, sharing death.
Synchronization.
Wolves acted on their Barta's thoughts.
"How do you...?"
Kultu looked stunned.
The other Barta murmured.
A guarded secret.
The Barta faced peril from the Rukelmas plague.
It started like a cold—cough, fever.
Mild at first, then horrific.
Blood refluxed, hair fell out.
One day, two... death in days.
Massive losses, no known cure.
'But I know.'
In two months, after 2/5 perished, a cure emerges.
"I..."
Arthur scanned them.
The plague was unknown outside.
They lived in shadows.
His knowledge alone was shocking.
"I've come to make a deal."
'I'll return within two hours. If not, avoid combat as much as possible. Better for the two split forces to link up. Need strength to break through monsters.'
Aleo recalled Arthur's words.
Prisoners dispersed into twenty squads.
Absurdly, Arthur made them squad leaders.
Knights protested; Arthur shut them down: 'They fought better than you.'
They'd seen it against the ogres.
'Two hours thirty minutes...'
Over two hours past.
Aleo held his breath.
Enemy could strike anytime.
Worse: Dungeon Master foe.
Unlike them, he summoned anywhere with gold.
Kwaaaah!
Aleo flinched at the massive roar.