Chapter 751: Foolish Fools
Northern reacted instinctively, though he had several fractions of a second to decide. After all, he was closest to the impact point where the same girl had just made her borderline foolish proclamation.
She flew backward as the stone boulder shattered, as if destroyed by an explosion from within. Northern watched her soar past him.
In those crawling moments-as she flew by-he gracefully curved his arms around her stomach, instantly neutralizing the force with minimal movement before casting a squinted glance at the exploded boulder.
The group felt the blast. The last cargo behind hadn't survived unscathed, blasted away by the violent spray of large stones. Several mercenaries managed to dodge the sudden attack, but none could both evade and save the cargo.
The only person who could have, had to save an endearing young lady instead.
Northern set her down, leaving the girl wide-eyed and breathing raggedly.
He stared at the boulder, studying it with narrowed eyes.
Gareon and the young lady rushed back, the captain questioning him:
"White, what's wrong? What was that..."
The cargo had staggered several meters out of their formation. The mounts released bullish, disturbing groans and slammed their hooves against the stone ground.
The explosion's dust obscured whatever lurked behind or inside the stone that had caused it to detonate. But that couldn't deter Northern-he just needed to look deeper.
His eyes widened a moment later, quickly settling into a grim frown. He shot a look at the caravan leader and asked, his voice cold and ruthless:
"Why are we traversing the path of a rift?"
Gareon trembled, shaking with freezing fear as the strange mercenary suddenly seemed more threatening than whatever had exploded beyond those stones.
But it wasn't that alone-the cold words seared into his mind like red-hot metal.
"A rift? There wasn't supposed to be any rift?"
Gareon was a leader and seasoned mercenary. This wasn't his first time under pressure, nor his first time passing this route.
Though the white-masked mercenary's annoyed demeanor made his skin crawl uncomfortably, his composure remained steady, directing his unease toward what the mercenary was addressing instead.
But he couldn't see it. He couldn't see anything the young man was talking about. Where was the rift? And...
"Jazter couldn't possibly have missed the presence of a rift! That's unlikely!"
Northern pointed forward as the cloud of dust slowly dissipated, as if parting way for the grand entry of the disaster beyond.
"Then what the hell is that?"
Gareon squinted into the dissipating dust. The cloud had settled, and anyone with the dullest sight could peer through if they stared long enough.
A crawling creature... no, not quite. Slightly obscured by the dense dust cloud, they resembled crawling abominations. They had two limbs and legs, humanoid in nature, but their bone formations appeared twisted and jagged, forcing them to rely on all appendages for movement.
However... they were unnaturally fast.
The moment one's head twitched and turned toward Gareon's direction, several others farther behind followed suit. They scurried forward like streaks of light and launched into the air, making their dramatic debut.
The first creature leaped, its twisted body straightening midair to increase its velocity. Northern's blade blurred, the motion clean and precise.
The creature was impaled mid-flight, its momentum stopped cold before it could reach Gareon.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, Northern sent the corpse crashing to the ground, his blade slicing free from its neck with a sickening squelch.
A glint of lightless steel marked the blade's passage, even under the bright sun.
Gareon snapped back to life just as Northern impaled another airborne creature. The seasoned mercenary summoned an item and barked orders:
"Everyone! We prioritize movement. Tessa, you, Jezter, and Dizo-lead the way!"
He glanced at Northern, clenching his fist in massive, worn gauntlets that produced sounds like grinding gears.
"White here, and I, and everyone else will guard the cargo's rear, buying time for our retreat." "That's useless!"
"Huh?"
Unfortunately, the hordes of crawling monsters wouldn't grant them such luxury. The dust had settled, revealing a shimmering, cracked tear in the air.
The rift had torn open between a cluster of massive rocks-anyone could have missed the dreadful thing. Their luck soured when they chose to traverse the mountain plain, thinking it their safest bet. The rift's shattering instantly transformed it into their worst possible route.
The monsters burst forth like bats, except they weren't small-each one matched an average teenager in size, composed of disjointed bones.
When they leaped, their bodies briefly straightened, granting them powerful thrust and flight control. Their heads bore two beaded eyes gleaming with menacing darkness, and lipless rows of needle-like teeth ready to sink into flesh with sickening ease.
Northern wove his sword through the air, cleanly dispatching two approaching creatures in succession. Gareon held his own.
He landed a crushing blow that completely pulverized one creature's head.
The girl behind, who had screamed moments ago, brandished her sword. Using her weight to dodge and pivot, she unleashed a barrage of fierce slashes onto the crawling mass of mangled
bones.
She straightened immediately, her thin voice cutting through the chaos while she had the chance:
"It's useless. They're monsters-they'll pursue us relentlessly. Some of us must stay and hold them here."
She spoke truth. This was a rift shatter; countless monsters-hundreds, perhaps thousands if their luck truly failed-would soon flood through.
If they attempted retreat... retreat where? And how long before the abominations overwhelmed those few protecting the rear?
The same principle applied to staying and holding them back, but at least then they could focus on one task: maintaining the line and minimizing breakthrough.
There was a third choice, though.
As much as Northern loathed considering it, he saw no alternative.
He despised playing hero, but none of them seemed likely to survive this situation. It would
be foolish for them to stay when he alone could handle this.
His eyes glinted coldly as he stepped forward with precise movement, guiding his illusion blade through a delicate, nearly invisible arc that ended in a gruesome spray of maroon ichor. After finishing the monster before him, Northern glanced back at the pair and said: "You two should join the caravan... I'm enough to hold the line here." Gareon froze momentarily, moved by the mercenary's compassion. Then he frowned. "Stars damn me if I leave you here to die because of my subordinate's mistake."
The girl moved closer after impaling another monster she'd managed to slam down. "Yeah, right—as if we'd let you sacrifice yourself. Didn't you hear me? No one's dying."
Northern sighed.
'Foolish fools.'