Wretched Seeker of the Absolute

The Journey to South 2 - The Ambush

Another scream of death was heard from the west of Balendon's group. Mercenaries took the formation to protect Balendon and other customers. The team leader had a grin hidden on his face, which said, "I was right." Mo's group was already out of the field but sent half of the mercenaries who had crossed the field back to assist people under attack. In a moment, all-out clashing sounds, along with screams, rose from the crystal field. This wasn't a fight between monsters and people or people against people. It was like a fight between Shou's group and Balendon. Attacking style of wildlings was truly savage. Balendon could see both hatred and jealousy in the eyes of the wildlings, which varied from dwarf-sized to Elisyson-sized. Balendon felt sad, calling these 'people' wildlings. He immediately understood that these were the descendants of those who could not survive the great devastation. Nonetheless, at that moment, it was a fight for survival on both sides.

One wildling managed to penetrate the defenses of the formation and tore the neck of the mercenary with his teeth. Balendon, as the only one who was armed to the teeth among his fellow ten customers of the group, took the empty spot with his shield in the formation. From what he observed, it was pretty basic: circle or square with shields to prevent attacks from the back, stop jumping wildlings with shields, and stab. So far, it had worked on six wildlings out of fifteen, including the wildling who still had the neck of the poor mercenary in his mouth.

Seeing the new guy in the formation, the wildlings thought of him as easy prey but were faced with the cold reality of Balendon's sword, which slashed a wildling open, making him bathe in disgusting intestines and blood. One of the mercenaries, disturbed by the sight, said, "Stop them with the shield, then stab them if you don't want your armor to get dirty. Their blood is acidic." Balendon replied, "Got it." He could not care less because of his regenerative metabolism, yet he cleaned himself with a spell regardless since he didn't want to stand out. Seeing him using magic, the same mercenary got curious and asked, "Can you use more magic than that? Like fireballs or lightning?" As if he tried to place his hope on something. They were already doing well, killing seven out of fifteen so far. To relieve the environment, Balendon said, "No, only enough to cook and clean." The mercenary laughed amidst the chaos. "An ideal husband my wife always wanted." Sour chuckles were heard among the formation. Everybody thought of their beloveds in their homes for a second, but instead of getting distracted, like true professionals, they got more focused.

Wildlings, after their eighth loss, must have realized that they needed to change their strategy and stopped jumping around like frogs. There was a brief moment of silence. Seeing one mercenary loosening his grip on his sword, Balendon said, "It's not over yet; I can sense it," to get him on his guard again. Then it appeared. The first dwarf-like wildling showing the necklace he stole in the blink of an eye from his victim. The necklace had the painting of a woman, probably either the mother or the wife of the poor guy. Considering the mood, the insidious laughter of the wildling was enough to provoke the group. One succumbed to rage and leaped towards the wildling. It was a skill that Balendon did not know how to use since he had no combat training. He did not have time to observe and realize when he was ambushed at the caravan, nor could he learn even if he observed for hours. Skills would cause too much fatigue, thus people wanted to avoid them. Yet, enraged as they were now, mercenaries started unleashing terror on these wildlings, who could only see when they pushed things too far. That agile little rat could not escape nor react. Stabbed in the chest, the mercenary raised the wildling high and snatched the necklace from his hand as he took his last breath.

The formation was broken, and Balendon felt an ominous mana flow. It was a witch, but before he could warn them, an area of effect fear skill was cast. Even though he had strong resistance, Balendon, because of the skill, could feel the fear he had forgotten: fear of losing his beloved, fear of death, fear of failure! On top of the fear spell, this witch cast a confusion spell, making people attack crystals and destroy themselves or swing their swords in mid-air. One mercenary lost his arm trying to shoulder charge at the crystal. Pain would get them to their senses briefly, but they would lose control to hallucinations right away. The last five wildlings, excluding the witch hiding underground, emerged. One had a bulky stature thought to be an ogre; the rest looked like Elisyson. Unlike the previous ones, these were equipped and looking strong.

Since they used their trump cards, it was Balendon's turn to shine. After he staggered due to the confusion skill and received a shallow cut in his leg on the crystal, he fell to his knee and stabbed the soil with his hands. He tried to create fire below the soil by letting his world force pour into the tunnels underground as if it was liquefied, like oil, then ignited it. The pressure caused a small tremor and flames in the underground tunnels, which ended up scorching the witch. Sensing the witch's death, the remaining five wildlings charged towards Balendon but were stopped by mercenaries who regained their sanity.

It was a truly inspiring battle to watch for Balendon. Unlike the caravan ambush, where he ate a meteor in the head and lost consciousness, he could now watch both sides using skills and utilize their mana or life forces efficiently in the art of killing. One mercenary was charging; another wildling was using a skill to appear on the charging mercenary's back. Before it could deal a killing blow, another mercenary used some sort of mana chain to pull him back. One was using a strange skill to leap from one to another, while another used some sort of stance skill that caused the mercenary's sword to bounce back. Balendon was watching and trying to learn the moves. In this narrow place, every skill was used to perfection regardless of the side. He was more excited to go south to learn these from their respective schools now.

Knowing Balendon did something to aggro the wildlings, mercenaries used this situation to their advantage and killed all the wildlings with four mercenary casualties and six civilian casualties. After a short and tense moment, reinforcements arrived, and distant clashing sounds also ceased. After releasing the adrenaline in their bodies, mercenaries let out a big sigh. They were out of breath. An average Elisyson could fight for two days nonstop by utilizing mana into their stamina, but the toll caused by skills was enormous. The mana stored in the body would deplete faster, and replenishing mana was slow. Apparently, life essence didn't have any impact on stamina, only the power of their skills and brute strength, which felt primitive compared to world force, which can be used for anything from turning it into energy that feeds the body to creating a whole new body itself.

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Casualties were average among both mercenaries and customers/passengers. The dead could not seek their rights, so the money paid by customers and the money needed to be paid to mercenaries who had died all went into the captain's pocket. He tried to hide his happiness and said, "What a start to our voyage! Nothing unexpected though! Ladies and gentlemen, now is the best part—our ship! My ship! Behold the Mother Aelin!"

It was a gigantic four-decker with four masts and 30 cannons on each side. It could support more cannons, but to reduce weight and increase speed on this long journey, they had to sacrifice firepower. It took its name from Aelin, the goddess of life and dimensions, who is said to have saved the remaining races from the great devastation by bending dimensions at the cost of her life. She was the main goddess the Elisysons praised, whereas other races could not hold back their respect and gratitude towards her as well.

The survivors of the attack started boarding the ship. Mercenaries, while some were mourning, others were boasting about their deeds during the ambush. One of them said, "That guy over there!"—pointing at Balendon—"If it wasn't for him breaking the curses of the witch wildling, we would have died!" The group of mercenaries looked at Balendon with joy and respect and called him over.

One of them asked, "What did you do to break us free from the spell?" It was the same guy who asked if Balendon could use other spells. Balendon replied, "I cooked the ground where I sensed someone with ominous mana," playing stupid.

"So that's what you meant by cooking and cleaning!" the mercenary said, and the same group who could not laugh previously during combat burst into laughter. Their group was the unluckiest one, as the others did not encounter even an ogre, let alone a witch.

After the laughter ended, the mercenary introduced himself as Albert, and Balendon blended in with the mercenaries as they praised him for how well he stood his ground as a civilian. After a while, when others started settling onto the ship, Albert said, "I noticed that you didn't use any skills despite fighting so well. Could it be that you don't know anything other than household magic?"

Balendon replied, "Yes, I was an orphan at Galenar. We orphans were only taught basic household magic. My fighting experience comes from my adventures." If he took the initiative to tell his story, nobody would be suspicious regardless of how he twisted it. He started telling his life after he left Galenar because he could not find a job and lived off selling wild animal carcasses away from the community, making enough money to go back south to find any relatives, should they exist. For a second, he actually believed his own twist and started making it even more logical. It could be a good idea to do so.

After Balendon's unimpressive made-up story, Albert offered to teach him some basics to shut him up. As for real skills, Balendon needed to look up the skill scrolls in the capital if he had to learn years of experience in a moment of flash. After everyone settled in, the ship was finally ready to set sail for six months. Balendon had booked a premium cabin and got the premium treatment he deserved after his efforts during the ambushes.