Nesterin climbed the ash-covered mountain as sweat drenched his body. The flowing, boiling lava around him made it hard to maneuver in this place.
"Nesterin, are you sure we should attack them at their temple?" Jharteel asked.
The others also looked at him with doubts. It seemed the environment here made them realize that the fight would not be easy.
"We cannot back down now. We have climbed this far, and only in this way can we prove that norms are brave and strong."
"I'm not sure," Jharteel replied. "I don't think fighting the cultivator in their home ground is a good idea."
"That doubt will kill you, Jharteel. Listen to me and be sure of our weapons."
Jharteel nodded and kept silent. The others said nothing and continued to climb the mountain, looking at their steps to avoid stepping on the hot, flowing liquid.
Smoke billowed out of the distance crater. Ash fell, making Nesterin and the men around him cough and struggled to breathe.
Nesterin narrowed his eyes towards a distance. A group of tiny shadows ran down the slope and seemed to go towards them.
"Those are not shadows! They're cultivators! Prepare your weapon!"
His men hastily drew their guns, sweating as they cocked their pistols.
"Steady your aim! Remember our training!" Nesterin said.
The ground rumbled as the group of shadows got closer. Their sword gleamed and their steps fluttered.
"Attack! Kill those mortals who forgot their place!"
"Fire!"
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Dozens of bullets flew across the landscape and rained the earth with dust and dirt as they failed to hit their target. They flew rapidly and wildly. They didn't come in waves, but like rain, instead.
"Steady your aim!"
His pulse raced as he pulled the trigger. The recoil knocked his arm, but he held tight. Arrows sliced through the skin of the cultivators. They bleed just like every mortal they looked down upon.
As they got closer, the swordsmen moved in a weird way. They rolled left and right, ran on all four, or leap around in the air. They dodged between bullets, then charged forward.
"They're dodging our bullets!" One of the men said.
"We bring a lot of ammunition for this, don't be afraid to spend it!" Nesterin shouted.
After a few minutes of shooting, one of the cultivators got hit in the head and fell. The fall of one of their friend didn't discourage the rest of them to back down. They lifted their swords and charged forward with renewed vigor.
The closing distance, let the gunner aim better. Their shots fell more enemy. Dozens of them fell as they failed to block or dodged the bullets.
"Their numbers are decreasing!"
The Black Wolves gained some confidence. They fired their pistols with certainty that it would hit someone. Though the cultivators still had enough men to threaten them, the sight of them falling by the dozens made the gunner stand their ground.
The rise in morale made them think that they would win in no time. But cultivators weren't so easy to defeat.
Elaith picked up a rock. "The distance is enough. Throw the rocks at them!"
He had been waiting for this. Elaith had told his brothers and sisters about his experience. The mortals were weak. Even a small rock could kill them. Sometimes they forgot this fact because their enemies were usually other cultivators.
Big and small, the rocks they throw flew like an arrow and slammed towards the mortal. These rocks are imbued with power. Their speeds and weight had increased, creating explosive impacts when they struck their targets.
As more and more mortals fell under their attacks, fewer and fewer cultivators died.
"Dammit! Lay on the ground. Don't let those rocks hit you!"
The mortals had brains too. Even though they were weak, Elaith must not underestimate them.
The strategy employed by the mortals worked. Almost none of the rocks hit them, because they were too hard to hit. Their position also seemed to increase their accuracy as more cultivators started to fell.
"Elaith!" Theoden, his senior brother, called. "Should we do that now?"
Elaith looked at the distance between him and the mortals. "It's too early, senior brother."
"I think we should, Elaith. If we don't do it, our brothers and sisters would die."
Elaith frowned, then nodded. "Alright!"
"Nefarious Swords!" Elaith shouted. "Ground Dust!"
The cultivators raised their swords and slashed the ground. Ashes and dust flew around them, masking their presence from the mortals.
From the side of the gunner, the cultivators disappeared, and what replaced them was a wave of smoke and dust charging toward the Black Wolves.
"Nesterin! With this smoke blocking our sight, we won't know what we are shooting at!"
Nesterin grimaced. Rocks still flew above their head, and the cultivators were getting closer. If they run, then the rocks would hit them. If they don't run, they could be massacred when the swordsmen got close.
"Split up! Split up and run toward the forest! They won't have any dust to kick there."
Jharteel and the rest of the men nodded. They fired a couple of times before they ran. Rocks hit some of them, their heads were crushed under the immense power.
Nesterin lowered his body as he ran. "Cultivators must never be underestimated. They're called immortal for a reason."
"The mortals are running! Chase them down!" Elaith said.
"Haha! They finally realized they can't win."
Theoden frowned. "Junior brother," he said to Elaith. "Since the mortals are retreating, I think we should return to the temple."
"What are you talking about, senior brother. Those mortals killed our brothers and sisters. We should chase and kill all of them."
The mortals ran down the mountains. The steep slope increased their speed. Some of them slipped and rolled down the mountain. The ones at the rear, fired their weapons to stall for time.
The swordsmen finally could show their true ability. They stormed towards the gunner and cut them to pieces like a skilled chef preparing a fish. With dozens of cultivators cutting down a few men. They competed to see who could get the most slice.
"I cut him twelve times! Haha!"
"I only got 4 cuts. Curses!"
"They killed Nefar! Curse those cultivators!"
As both sides fell either from bullets or rocks, their resentment towards each other heated.
Elaith threw a pebble. It shot towards a mortal and blasted his head. They didn't run without attacking. Occasionally, they would turn around and shoot towards the dust cloud, hitting his unfortunate friends.
"They're going into the forest," Theoden said. "We will lose our cover if we fight there."
"It doesn't matter, senior brother. We are faster than them. As long as our swords can reach their neck, then they will surely die."
The Black Wolves entered the forest. Trees exploded around them as they were bombarded by rocks. The uneven ground slowed their step, and more gunners had to turn around to stall the swordsmen.
Nesterin looked grateful for his men. "They are fine warriors. The Black Wolves will take care of their family. Let it be known that we are not some scumbags that left their friends to die for nothing!"
Some of the men turned around after they heard that. They fired towards the rolling dust. Rocks slammed the surrounding trees. The branches fell, along with some wood chips.
That didn't stop them. More gunners started to turn around and shoot the cultivators since they thought they couldn't outrun them.
A man gritted his teeth and fired erratically at the dust cloud. "Die! Die! Die! I don't care if you are immortal or what. I only want you to die!"
A rock flew towards his face.
When the cultivators entered the forest, they lost their dust cover and the Black Wolves saw them in plain sight. Their shots fell more men than before.
The Black Wolves were known as a weak mortal group. They had avoided the sight of cultivators for many years and survived under their regime. Their primary tasks were guarding stores and stalls against other mortals, but they could only walk away when a cultivator came.
Today, that changed. For the first time in history, the mortals had a fair chance to fight.
As more swordsmen died, the Nefarious Sword felt fear for the first time towards the mortals. Those they thought were weak now had killed their friends left and right.
Elaith and Theoden slipped behind the tree as bullets sliced its bark.
"Elaith, we should retreat."
"Not now, senior brother. We are so close to them. There is a big crevice up ahead. I bet the mortals don't know about it."
"Fine. But I cannot let more of us die."
"What are you going to do senior brother?"
Theoden smiled. "Something us senior brothers should do." He Raised his sword. "Gather round!"
All the stage 2 swordsmen approached them. They blocked or deflated the bullets coming toward them with their swords.
They showed what a difference in stage could make. Not a single senior apprentice died in this battle. Their strength, speed, and battle senses were far better than the stage 1 cultivators.
Elaith looked confused. What were the seniors about to do?
"We have tried to protect the others as much as possible," Theoden said. "But since you decided to go to the offensive, then we will open up a path."
"Charge!"
All the stage 2 cultivators rushed forward. They slipped past the bullets, leaped towards the trees, and used everything they have to distract the gunners.
Casualties reduce on the side of the cultivators. As the stage 2 swordsmen approached, the gunners panicked and focused their shots on them.
Tough luck!
They sliced the bullets in mid-air, deflected them back towards the mortals, and stormed the battlefield with unprecedented speed.
A stage 2 swordsman landed near a mortal, but before that man could aim his gun, the swordsman leaped forward and slashed a dozen times in a second.
This scene was repeated a dozen times as the stage 2 swordsmen became crazed. A lot of Black Wolves members turned around to reinforce their partners. Most of them died before they could pull the trigger.
The ferocity of cultivators was shown. Hardly any mortal gunner caught their breath before a blade cut their windpipe. The aggression the cultivators displayed made the Black Wolves tremble as they ran.
"Those cultivators are catching up to us. What should we do?" Jharteel asked.
Nesterin clenched his fist. "Let's turn around and fight them to the last man."
"No." Jharteel grabbed his shoulder. "Whatever we do, we must survive. We can use what we learn here to get a better chance at fighting."
"Sir! There is a crevice ahead of us!"
Nesterin widened his eyes. If the crevice ahead of them was impossible to cross, then they would be massacred!