"Whoosh~" A few feathered arrows flew through the strong wind, instantly killing the guards on lookout at the entrance of the hills.
Ryan and the others sneaked into the camp along the sparse forest.
Ryan, Gerard, Teresa, Veronica, and Alfred followed behind; they were not skilled at such tasks.
Under the cover of night, Estelle and Dace could see as if it were day. They moved forward slowly, using the bushes and trees as cover. The strong wind made their movements almost silent.
They approached the camp where siege towers were being constructed. Two lower-rank vampires were whispering to each other, standing on a slope behind the hills, monitoring everything. After scouting, the group found this spot to be the least defended. Past the hills was the interior of the camp.
Estelle signaled with two fingers, indicating there were two targets.
Dace pulled up his green mask and shook his head, then made a gesture.
It was hard to kill lower-rank vampires with a single arrow through the brain. They encountered trouble.
That's when Alfred stepped forward.
The Paladin took out a flask from his bag and handed it to Estelle, signaling to use it.
Estelle gently opened the flask, revealing crystal clear water that shimmered with a faint light.
It was holy water! Estelle smiled, giving Alfred a thumbs up. The two half-elves applied the holy water to their arrowheads.
They only had one shot.
With power, Estelle squinted, attaching the holy water-dipped arrow to his bowstring, and pulled his recurve bow to full draw. The half-elf carefully calculated the angle, direction, wind speed, and humidity.
The wind blew through the forest, carrying the sound of rustling leaves to Estelle's ears. He and Dace felt comfortable and slightly intoxicated by this. This was the life of a Ranger, lonely, always accompanied by the forest. They tried hard to integrate into human society with Ryan's help, but sometimes they still enjoyed the feeling of becoming one with the forest.
They were children of the forest.
"Whoosh~" Two arrows pierced through the howling wind and entered the bodies of the vampire guards.
"Ah~!" The vampire guards felt their bodies penetrated by the arrows. Just as they attempted to shout for enemies, a corrosive sensation filled all their senses. They moaned softly, their faces twisted in agony. The chest of the pierced vampire immediately corroded, creating a large hole as the arrowhead entered its heart, with the holy water burning its black blood.
The vampire guards struggled to pull out the arrows. Just as their hands touched the shafts, they turned into dried corpses.
The other vampire guard was hit in the throat, struggling to make a sound. The holy water destroyed its throat and vocal cords, burning its body black and emitting white smoke and a foul smell.
A long sword pierced through its chest from behind, the holy energy evaporating its organs.
Alfred, with a fierce look, pulled the sword out of the vampire guard. Paladins were resolute against undead, greenskins, and chaos creatures, seeing no need for sympathy: "Hey, Mr. Estelle, you didn't aim well."
"It was wearing a breastplate," Estelle pointed at the vampire guard.
Alfred smiled awkwardly, apologizing with a gesture.
The group successfully entered the camp.
Inside, many torches illuminated the camp. It was deep into the night, yet there were still some construction activities. Vampires were making three siege towers and two battering rams.
Construction materials were scattered throughout the camp, with wood, stones, and clay piled everywhere. Ryan and the others hid behind a stack of hardwood, carefully observing the camp's activities.
"It's the Estalian mercenary band. They've taken employment from vampires, serving the undead," Teresa recognized the mercenaries patrolling the camp. She leaned against Ryan, whispering. The sorceress had changed into a set of black leather armor for combat, holding a purple staff: "These desperadoes don't care who they serve, as long as they're paid, they'll do anything."
"Estelle, Dace, can you snipe those isolated mercenaries?" Ryan calculated the distance.
Veronica would summon a meteor, engulfed in flames, to completely destroy these siege weapons. But she needed to get at least 300 meters close to the siege towers. Ryan and the others' task was to cover Veronica.
They were still about 500 meters away from the siege weapons and needed to get closer.
"No, without the cover of trees, it's easy for the mercenaries to spot us," Estelle shook his head.
"Then it'll be difficult for us to get within 300 meters," Ryan observed a small group of mercenaries about twenty meters away. They were well-trained professional soldiers with excellent equipment. Everyone wore chainmail, and some even had arm guards and breastplates. Their weapons were diverse: swords, shields, battle axes, polearms, war hammers, crossbows. At first glance, one could tell that taking them down immediately wouldn't be easy: "Alright, it's already a success that we got this far. Brothers, prepare for battle."
"Please wait, my lord," the Witcher, Abel, had a different opinion.
"Do you have a better idea, Abel?" Ryan already drew his war hammer.
"My lord, you must have brought wine from Wintertown, right? May I borrow a bottle? It doesn't have to be the best wine; a good butterbeer or malt beer will do," the Witcher said respectfully.
"Of course, I have," Ryan produced a bottle of top-quality malt beer, made from the first wort of malt, a luxury item.
Abel took the malt beer, gently shook it, and smiled: "My lord, mercenaries from the southern lands are indeed strong and well-equipped, fearless in death, but they have a fatal weakness—they can't resist the temptation of fine wine, especially this top-quality malt beer. Seeing such wine, even the most disciplined mercenaries will forget all rules and tasks."
"Interesting, let's try it," Ryan agreed to the plan.
Mercenary discipline indeed differed from regular armies. They fought and completed missions not for honor or higher status but for money and the pleasure after completing the task.
Abel gently opened the bottle cap and placed the malt beer on top of the hardwood stack.
He and Jule hid in the shadows behind the stack, then signaled everyone to be quiet.
Two minutes later, three mercenaries passed by.
"What a fragrance! Is that... the scent of malt beer!" A tall mercenary with a sharp nose lit up, following the strong malt aroma, and found a glass beer bottle: "Look, a bottle of malt beer! How fragrant, this must be a top-quality malt beer!"
"God, Fernando, what are you doing? Oh! God, it's high-quality malt beer!" Another tall mercenary approached, enticed by the rich and pure aroma, his dry mouth immediately producing saliva: "Who left this here?"
"Who knows, maybe a vampire, maybe someone else's leftovers, but it's our lucky day!" The three mercenaries stopped. The tall one lifted the glass bottle, testing for poison with a silver needle.
The other two mercenaries' attention was completely on the tall one's poison test, their gazes following the glass bottle and silver needle.
A gloved hand from behind covered one mercenary's mouth, and a dagger ended the problem.
"See, no poison. Ready to enjoy our extra midnight snack during patrol?" the tall mercenary removed the silver needle from the bottle, happily announcing.
No one answered him.
"What the—" The tall mercenary sensed something was wrong, and just as he turned around, Abel fiercely twisted his neck with a swift motion.
"Crack." Mercenary Fernando's neck was snapped, killing him instantly. The bodies of the three mercenaries were dragged away.
A while later, another group of mercenaries passed by: "Hey! Brothers, what's that? What's that smell?"
...
After about fifteen minutes, seven or eight bodies were piled up behind the hardwood stack.
"This is dishonorable. I could never do such a thing," Gerard watched the Witcher ambush mercenaries one after the other, clearly disapproving.
"Me neither, which is why we need Witchers, just as we need peasant archers in war," Ryan whispered with a smile.
Gerard nodded, finding this explanation acceptable.
Pulling out his bloodied steel sword, Abel nodded, signaling everyone could come out now: "One bottle of wine, four patrol teams, that's the limit."
"Good, let's move on." Taking advantage of the night, Ryan and his party continued toward the siege towers.
At about 350 meters from the siege towers, Veronica gently tugged at Ryan's sleeve: "Dear? It's close enough."
Ryan was about to say they hadn't reached 300 meters yet when he realized something: "You've gotten stronger, my great witch."
"Cover me, Ryan." Veronica stood her ground, beginning to chant spells.
Ryan no longer bothered hiding. He stood up naturally, drawing everyone's attention. The night wind carried scents of wood and earth: "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your support and assistance in this mission. Making it this far wouldn't have been possible without everyone's contribution."
"Now, we've reached the final step of my plan. Let's finish this, bring death and destruction to those vampires, spread the Lady's glory across the land, and return victory to Brittany!" Ryan raised his war hammer, roaring: "For the Lady!"
"For the Lady!"
"For Charlemagne!"
"For the God of Justice!"
"For Khorne!"
"For Asuryan!"
The team's battle cries were not in sync but still loud enough to alert the mercenaries and vampires within the camp.
"Who goes there?!" The mercenaries reacted immediately: "Enemy attack!"
Too late.
From the sky, a meteor with a diameter of several meters emerged from the dark night sky, carrying a thunderous momentum, plummeting directly down. The meteor, emitting scorching heat waves and dazzling red light, drew an arc in the sky and landed in the middle of the camp.
"Boom!!!" The meteor exploded upon impact, instantly killing dozens of vampire guards, several mercenaries, including the mercenary leader. The massive explosion shattered the siege towers under construction, crushing stones and igniting hardwood, engulfing the entire camp in rolling dust.
"Enemies! It's a fire-element legendary wizard!" "Help! My leg's broken, my leg's broken!" The mercenaries were dumbfounded by the meteor attack, throwing their ranks into chaos.
"Ice Spike!" Meanwhile, the sorceress also began casting, her staff swirling with frost energy, freezing two charging mercenaries in their tracks.
"Ice Lance." Teresa chanted again, shattering the two frozen mercenaries into pieces.
"Fight!" Ryan raised his griffon war hammer, smashing two mercenaries into pulp. Gerard, holding his shield and sword, chanted in the name of the Lady, his sword piercing through a mercenary's chest: "For the Lady!"
Witcher Abel and Jule's swords danced, their movements as graceful as ballet, but each strike was lethal to the vulnerable mercenaries, targeting the weak spots in their armor.
"Inferno Skull!" Veronica's casting continued. Surrounded by fiery energy, a cackling flame skull appeared in the camp. With a piercing laugh, the massive flame skull rampaged through the camp, leaving nothing but destruction and flames in its wake.
The mercenaries' morale collapsed, screaming as they tried to flee, but the fire blocked their escape. The camp's abundant construction materials ignited, with Ryan and his party heading toward the remaining siege engines, eliminating any mercenaries who didn't escape. Enemies were enemies, and since they served vampires, Ryan believed there was no need for mercy.
Teresa, wielding her staff, opened a path through the fiery chaos. The burning surroundings made the sorceress uncomfortable, complaining: "Veronica, you almost burned us too."
"Our mission is to burn the entire camp!" Veronica retorted, slightly out of breath from casting two large spells, but still maintaining a significant reserve of magical power.
"Ladies, now's not the time for chat!" Ryan, wielding his war hammer, killed two vampire guards trying to block their path.
Nearby, a vampire lord, accompanied by two units of Grave Guard and a group of Crypt Ghouls, was desperately trying to put out the fire, attempting to save the last two undamaged siege engines.
Ryan was about to signal an attack on the Grave Guard and Crypt Ghouls when a hoarse dragon's roar reached everyone's ears.
Looking back, they saw a giant zombie dragon illuminated by the firelight in the night sky, breathing dragonfire, rapidly approaching the camp.
It was the Red Duke!
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