Chapter 20 Battle in Poor Land Part 3

From his position, Ar turned his gaze to the other side of the battlefield. Amid the chaos, Baron Bartemus' Channeler forces had anticipated their attack. Several ranged Channelers had taken up strategic positions on towers and rooftops.

Their weapons were more advanced and far more deadly. Arrows and magical bullets were ready to fire. Ar heard small explosions as magical projectiles began to fly, raining down on Ethel's Channeler troops. The wave of attacks forced Ar to think quickly, they had to deal with this threat immediately before the battle turned into a massacre.

"You use tactics and strategies... I can do that too," Ar murmured softly, almost a whisper to himself.

Golden light shimmered around his body, leaving an illusory shadow in its place. Meanwhile, his real body melted into the shimmering light and slowly disappeared. The Astral Step technique he had mastered allowed Ar to move through light manipulation.

In an instant, he appeared atop one of the enemy-held towers.

From his position, Ar observed a level 3 Channeler, a tall man in maroon robes, concentrating on targeting the Floressia District troops.

The longbow in his hand emitted a sharp green light filled with flowing Essential Energy.

Without giving the man a chance to attack, Ar moved in silence. His steps were as light as a shadow as he approached his enemy from behind. Light glimmered along the blade of his sword. In one swift and precise sweep, his sword pierced the man's heart.

The man in the maroon robe staggered, his eyes wide in shock. Even to counterattack, his body had lost control. Ar's attack had struck a vital organ, a crushing blow that ensured instant death. The man's body collapsed to the ground, while the bow in his hand fell to the stone with a slight clatter.

Ar stared at his bloodied sword blade and his trembling hands in the pale moonlight. At such a young age, he had shed blood in many places. But there was no feeling he could express, only silence enveloped his mind.

He turned his red gaze downward, watching the channelers of Ethel, still holding on even as the fatigue began to eat away at them. Some were badly injured, their bodies swaying, but still clinging tenaciously to their weapons.

Then his gaze shifted to the south. There he saw his twin sister leading the children from the orphanage and the district, using the traps they had prepared beforehand.

Clau moved quickly, giving orders with unwavering determination.

On the other side, Baron Bartemus' channeler troops began to disperse, entering the small streets of Floressia District. The roar and chaos echoed through the narrow alleys as screams and clanging metal filled the air.

Ar stood on the roof of one of the two-story houses, his red eyes sharply watching the enemy's movements. Baron Bartemus' channelers spread out, surrounding the district with structured tactics.

In the distance, flashes of light and explosions echoed between the buildings and homes of the residents. The Channelers attacked mercilessly with their powerful Essential Auras, paralyzing several Ethel residents who tried to defend themselves. Ar gripped his staff tighter, his breathing steady, preparing for the next move.

Even though Ar had set traps throughout the Floressia district, the channeler troops Baron Bartemus had brought were still too strong for the Ethel channelers. No matter how carefully his strategy was planned, the imbalance of power remained palpable.

Taking a deep breath, Ar looked down and stared at the blood-stained blade of his sword. Dark red liquid dripped from the blade and merged with the puddle on the ground.

With a single slash, he had taken a life. His sword, originally just a tool, now absorbed the blood of the enemies he had killed. His fingers tightened on the hilt of the weapon, feeling the cold metal contrast with the heat of the blood flowing in his hand.

"I must protect them. Protect Clau, protect everyone who depends on me. Face this cruel world that I have hated all my life," he muttered to himself. His fiery red eyes stared straight at the battlefield without the slightest fear.

Suddenly, a scream from another direction interrupted his reverie.

Ar turned quickly to see Thomas and Elize. His two younger siblings were in danger, surrounded by three enemy Channelers wearing silver armor. Their bodies were large, much stronger than the children from the orphanage.

Their spears glowed with a deep green light, reflecting the flow of Essence embedded in the weapons. The three moved in harmony, raising their spears in unison, preparing to strike at Thomas and Elize.

Without a second thought, Ar jumped from the roof. The wind whistled around him as his body floated lightly in the air before landing smoothly on the stone path below. A faint golden light shimmered around his body, the remnants of the Essential Energy he used to power his movements.

His sharp eyes stared at the three enemies, his body moving quickly, ready to face them.

Ar's body once again melted into the illusion of light. The world around him suddenly changed, bright, silent and fiery. In an instant, he appeared behind one of the armored Channelers, his figure barely audible, like a shadow slipping through the flashes of light.

His sword was raised high, enveloped in a thick Essential aura that pulsed as if it were alive. He knew the weak points of their armor, the back of their necks and the narrow gaps between the metal plates. Though the armor provided almost perfect protection, there were still gaps that could be exploited. However, his hands trembled slightly, a subtle doubt creeping into him.

Ar's lips were pressed tightly together, his expression tense. His heart hesitated, but Thomas' soft voice broke the silence. "Help us!"

Immediately, something inside him hardened. The doubt was shattered. There was no more time for questioning, only for action. His eyes closed for a moment, ignoring the trembling in his hands, then in one swift and unhesitating motion he swung his sword with full force.

Srek!

Srek!

Srek!

The sound of splitting flesh and scraping metal echoed through the air. When Ar opened his eyes, the scene was clear: three heads had been severed from their owners' bodies and were rolling along the rocky road, leaving a trail of slowly flowing blood. The headless bodies collapsed with a heavy sound, creating a thin dust that rose into the air.

Ar stared blankly at the scene. The hand holding the sword still felt warm from the blood of the enemy.

Ar stood still, his body held back by something invisible. The hilt of the sword in his grip trembled, not from fear of the blood he had spilled, but from a strange feeling that slowly crept into his mind.

"Brother..."