A Tiger Tribe warrior charged forward, baring his blood-stained fangs and raising his ax.
"Damn it…" Splitting Blade rushed in, blocking! Stabbing! His massive sword cleaved through the ax handle and flesh, then struck deep into the Tiger warrior's left chest. Blood sprayed across Splitting Blade's face. The Tiger warrior, even as his life faded, collided heavily with Splitting Blade before collapsing.
More Tiger warriors were closing in from behind.
A figure suddenly appeared from the side, a short blade piercing into the chest of one of the Tiger warriors.
"Splitting Blade, the giant beast—" Crow shouted as he lunged forward.
"Cover me!" Splitting Blade gripped a burning stone jar in one hand and dragged his massive sword with the other, striding forward.
"Charge together!" He leaped over the river trench at one bound.
The guards followed, darting over the trench after him.
A Tiger Tribe captain, covered in arrows and built as massive as a raging black tiger, charged forward wielding two giant hammers, his body encased in iron armor. Splitting Blade, unable to dodge in time, lowered himself and charged, taking a hit on his shoulder armor. Two guards with long swords struck from the left and right, one piercing the captain's waist and the other slicing across the iron on his outer thigh, sending sparks flying.
"Arrgh…" Splitting Blade roared, dragging his heavy sword along the ground, swinging it upward from between the captain's legs.
"Kent, it's going to blow!" Kent's urgent voice echoed from the rock wall behind.
"Advance! Follow the assault!" Behind Splitting Blade, Earth Bear charged in, wildly swinging his great sword at the approaching Tiger warriors. Another guard joined, smashing and stabbing through the advancing Tigers.
Amid the fierce wind and snow, steel clashed with flesh, and the sounds of rage and pain filled the air.
A fallen Tiger warrior struggled to rise, only to hear a furious shout, "Die!" Scar cut through his neck with a single stroke. Another Tiger warrior roared and charged forward, only to have his throat pierced by a swift arrow.
"Cover us!" Graybeard shouted from the rock wall.
"I got two of them!" someone called from afar.
"Hit those bastards!" another voice joined in.
"Come on, Tiger Tribe scum!" More voices shouted, filled with anger.
"Taste your grandpa's arrows—"
Amid the cursing, Graybeard continued drawing his bow. The black-feathered arrow drew back to his ear before he released, then drew again and released.
The first arrow struck a throat, and down they went; the second hit a breastplate; another arrow pierced an eye, and down they went; a fourth hit a shoulder, followed by another to finish the job.
With a deafening roar, the giant bear came charging through.
"Hold the Tiger Tribe back!" Splitting Blade's face was red with fury, his old scars making his expression look terrifying. At the front, Crow barely dodged the bear's gaping maw, its foul breath causing him to momentarily lose his breath. At that instant, Crow's short blade swung from a stab to a slash, striking the armored bend of the bear's leg.
The strike couldn't penetrate its iron-hard hide, but it succeeded in enraging the beast.
With its momentum halted, the bear suddenly turned, directing its fury toward Crow as more Tiger warriors rushed forward. Several guards darted past the charging Splitting Blade, engaging the Tigers.
The bear opened its mouth, lunging at Crow.
A fleeting opportunity in the chaos.
"Die!" Splitting Blade roared, hurling the burning stone jar straight into the bear's mouth.
Boom, boom, boom—
It was like a macabre display of ink and fire bursting forth. Black flames blossomed from the bear's mouth, like dark flowers blooming in the night, consuming its head in a blaze of deadly fire. In mere moments, the giant head ignited violently. The bear roared in agony, rampaging madly, smashing into anything in its path.
Several Tiger warriors were sent flying, others caught on fire, rolling on the ground in agony, desperate to escape the hellish pain.
Killing no longer mattered as fear began to spread. With a loud whistle, the Tiger warriors scattered, retreating in disarray.
"Damn it!" Splitting Blade's arms bulged with tense veins as he drove his massive sword deep into the bear's neck.
With a sickening squelch, the great sword pierced through the bear's throat.
Howling in pain, the bear opened its bloody maw wide. Completely unleashed, it lashed out with a paw that could shatter a stone. Splitting Blade released his grip just in time to dodge the deadly blow.
More guards descended upon the bear.
Blades hacked, spears stabbed, axes smashed—all their fury poured into the beast's head.
Finally, with a final defiant roar, the massive body swayed like a mountain, then crashed to the ground.
In the swirling dust, the exhausted guards looked at each other, gasping for breath. Someone slumped to the ground, giving Splitting Blade a thumbs-up. Splitting Blade spat out bloody saliva, showing a faint glimpse of his white teeth in a twisted grin.
He'd regained his honor.
On the rock wall, Kent and the native hunters had witnessed the unbelievable scene.
Everyone exchanged glances.
Graybeard raised his hand and slapped his own face twice, feeling the stinging pain. He laughed hoarsely, the sharp pain from the countless blisters on his hands finally hitting him after the many times he'd drawn the bow.
He slumped down on the rock wall, breathing heavily with his head tilted back. The wind and snow pelted his face, entering his mouth, his worn fur coat, and his exhausted body—but he felt no cold.
"We won—" he cried out with joy.
"We won!" More cheers erupted around him.
Seeing the giant bear finally fall amidst the flames, and the Tiger warriors retreat, Kent's tense body finally relaxed. He staggered, reaching for a stone in front of him, only to find his hand trembling uncontrollably.
His entire body was shaking.
"Breathe deeply…" he told himself firmly. "You're the lord now; you must maintain your authority. Now, turn around with a calm expression and prepare to accept their cheers."
He turned with a stiff, weary smile.
"We won, my lord!" someone cried out.
"We won, my lord!" voices echoed, filled with tears of relief.
"It's our lord!"
More natives gathered around, surrounding Kent. Many dirt-streaked hands reached out, touching his shoulders, arms, and back, as if even a touch of the lord's luck could be shared. To the impoverished, this respect was the purest they could offer, even if nobles might scoff at it.
"My lord!"
"My lord!"
Finally, Kent's body was lifted by countless hands.
At that moment, Kent truly felt the reality of this world. Many hands supported him from below, like a king after battle, receiving his warriors' praise. He lay back, staring up at the sky as the wind and snow covered the heavens. Dark clouds veiled the sun, but through a break in the clouds, a single beam of light shone upon the earth.
Finally… is survival possible?
He heard countless voices crying. The natives beneath him, reeking of sweat and other unknown scents, carried him through the wind and snow, supporting their most sacred figure as they slowly descended the rock wall, making their way to the hillside and the Hunter's Spear settlement.