The siege of the city didn't diminish at all. In fact, more mages came to lend a hand even, as now groups of Hobgoblins and Goblin Shamans were shooting at the defenders from afar.
Arrows and Fireballs were being exchanged in spectacular bursts of magic and matter, and sounds of explosions and screams filled the air.
The human combatants held an edge at first, but as the hordes of interlopers pushed at their shields as an unending tide, cracks started to form.
And where better to concentrate an attack than where they once succeeded before. And they were doing it. The defenders on the wall were exhausted from constant fighting and killing and it seemed like they would break down at any moment.
"God damn it!" Gerald cursed as he looked down at the horde. "What is so good there that you have to attack right where my warehouse is?!" It was unacceptable! How dare they test his patience!
He released the invisibility as a spear appeared in his left hand and a sword in his right. Holding the Toothpick and Orc Slayer, and having the Black Onyx cloak draped over himself, he fell from the sky.
"Elemental Avatar!"
Boom!
A sudden impact crushed many under his feet, as dirt and ash and stones rose from the ground, obstructing his magnificent form.
Scorching flames of the battlefield licked his body, igniting his shirt in a ball of flames.
"Hmph!" Gerald snorted and stabbed the sword in the ground. A sudden gust of explosive wind tore the clothes off his body, revealing the black gem in his chest. Those that could see Mana would see him glowing at the moment.
A glow of power only seen in those beasts of the Gold Rank.
The Goblins around him warily approached as they felt the waves of Mana surging around him. Each breath filled him with energy, and his muscled hardened and bulged under the weight of the enchantments.
With Magic Eyes active, his orbs appeared to be glowing in the color of blood, and his Life Aura grew as magic filled his bones.
Nobody could see the changes though, as only the closest monsters could feel themselves shudder in fear as an ancient instinct kicked in, warning them of a predator.
"None of you are going to survive this!" Gerald growled in a low voice and gripped the blade.
Stab!
With a quick jerk, the Toothpick penetrated the skull of a Hobgoblin to his left, and as he pulled the spear back, the monster fell to the ground, dead.
Blood splashed.
Heyaaaaaa!
Demonic screeches erupted all-around after a moment of silence. The waves of flesh collapsed on him all at once.
From afar it seemed like a meteor struck the lake and was then covered by the returning tide.
Blood sprayed into the sky.
Limbs flew and were diced and sliced among the flurry of blades. A wild, iron tornado, created a meat grinder where Gerald stood.
He was an example of a benevolent saint, helping liberate the monsters of their vile form, releasing their souls from imprisonment.
They thanked him with songs and gifts, jumping towards him with smiles, and wide-open arms. He smiled gently and laughed, dancing among them and gently stroking their fur.
Each movement of his arms drew mist into the air, and glorious rainbows formed all around him.
It was beautiful!
***
It was horrible!
The soldiers and warriors watched in horror as the monsters were almost disintegrated in a storm of blood. Even though they were deadly and cruel monsters, the sight of their death was so much worse!
Heavy blades from a single human whistled as they cut the air, and only quiet splats were heard as they dissected and disemboweled the invaders.
Blood filled the air and turned into crimson mist. Rings of fire were blasted outward with each step the human made, and where his sword slashed, a line of Thorns formed.
Stone thorns, growing straight from the ground, razor-sharp, and deadly! Many of the interlopers were impaled before they even knew what was going on, and their entrails spilled on the ground at the slightest tug.
The onlookers stood in a daze. The monsters they so desperately fought just seconds before were now dropping like flies.
The sudden void of danger left them stunned and helpless as they could only watch, as someone else slaughtered their opponents without sparing them a single thought.
"Does anyone know him?" One of the warriors shouted, but not expecting to get an answer.
And indeed, apart from a few unrecognizable groans and whispers, most fighters simply shook their head.
Even the observer, who was counting the kills from the Guild's warriors and knew basically everyone, was unfamiliar with the man. Not like he could see his face at such a distance and under the cloak he was wearing, but still.
The mark in the shape of a crystal on his back was entirely unfamiliar. It was the first time he saw it. Or was it?
The man scratched his stubble and strained his brain thinking, but he just couldn't remember.
"Oh, no! He's at it again!"
The man suddenly recognized the voice and turned his head. It was a group of three young ladies, one of which was a Dark Elf, and two men. However the cloaks they wore attracted much more attention than the people themselves.
"It's them! That's where I saw it!"
He was not the only one who noticed the newcomers. The defenders all gathered around them like curious children and showered them with questions.
"Are you with that crazy guy?"
"What's your group's name?"
"Where did you come from?"
"I want to join you!"
"Are you going to help him?"
"Tell him to stop, I need some money too!"
"Is he single, does he have a girlfriend? I can still be his mistress if he already has one!"