Chapter 67: The Cowardly Mercenary Band
“Boss, Princess Givia’s caravan is approaching. Can we attack now?”
Hidden in the hills overlooking the road, a group of mercenaries, their equipment a mismatched assortment, lay in wait. A young mercenary, dressed in light armor, his scout’s garb blending with the surroundings, whispered to an older man.
“Have they spotted us?” the mercenary leader asked, his voice cautious.
“I don’t think so. We’re well-hidden. Unless they have supernatural senses, they wouldn’t have noticed us,” the scout replied confidently. “The traps are set. We’re ready to attack whenever you give the order.”
The other mercenaries, their eyes fixed on their leader, waited for his command.
“Listen up, lads. Our target is Princess Givia, leader of the Ossi Kingdom Restoration Army, but our employer isn’t paying us much. Our mission is to harass their caravan, kill a few of them if we can, destroy a few wagons, but don’t risk your lives,” the leader instructed, his voice low. “We attack once, then retreat. We were only paid for one attack.”
“Understood!” the others muttered in agreement.
Unlike the well-equipped dwarf mercenaries they had encountered before, this group was a ragtag band, their services affordable, but their survival instincts far stronger. They were part of the mercenary force hired by Apos, positioned along Givia’s route.
They had set up rockfall traps and planted explosives along the road. Each mercenary carried a light crossbow and a few bolts. And most importantly, they all had horses, ready to flee after the ambush.
Princess Givia, such an important figure, would surely have powerful guards. It would be foolish to engage them directly. They were mercenaries, not heroes. They would do their job and nothing more.
“I hear their wheels… Those handling the explosives, get ready,” the leader said, straining his ears, listening to the faint sounds from below. “And those with the rockfall traps, prepare to release them. On my count of three. The rest of you, after the explosions, charge down the hill and fire a volley of flaming bolts. Then we retreat. Any objections?”
They all shook their heads. “No objections, boss!”
“Good. Get ready,” the leader said, licking his dry lips, loading his crossbow and cocking it. The others followed suit.
The sound of the approaching caravan grew louder. The leader, based on his years of experience, estimated their distance, silently counting down.
“One, two, three!” he shouted.
Several mercenaries cut the ropes holding the rocks and lit the fuses of the explosives with burning coals.
“Remember, don’t be greedy. Your lives come first…” the leader reminded them, waiting for the explosions. The explosives were powerful. If they detonated beneath the wagons, they would destroy the potions, and anyone inside.
Ten seconds passed, then twenty. The leader realized something was wrong.
There were no explosions. No screams, no panicked neighing of horses.
“What’s going on? I told you to light the fuses! And you, why didn’t the rockfall traps activate? What are you doing?!” he demanded, glaring at the mercenaries responsible for the traps.
“We did activate them… Should we send Tim down to check?” one of them asked, his voice filled with confusion.
“No need. Your traps are useless. We have a mage. He disabled them.”
A clear, feminine voice echoed from above, startling the mercenaries.
They looked up and saw a beautiful girl with long silver hair standing there, seemingly out of nowhere. She had spoken those words, her voice calm and casual.
The mercenaries instantly aimed their loaded crossbows at her.
“Who are you?!” the leader demanded, his crossbow aimed at the girl’s eyes. He wouldn’t hesitate to fire, regardless of her age.
“I’m a passenger in the caravan below,” the girl replied. It was Leona, leaning against a tree trunk, observing them with amusement. “You’re quite foolish, aren’t you? You didn’t even bother finding a spot with a clear view. Why hide here?—Oh, I see, this terrain… It’s perfect for a quick escape. My god, you’re such cowards!”
“Damn it, we’ve been discovered! Kill her!” the leader shouted, recognizing her as an enemy. Years of experience had honed his instincts.
Several mercenaries fired their crossbows, a volley of bolts hurtling towards Leona.
But she vanished. A gust of wind swept through the trees, a fleeting orange blur moving among them. Before they could react, their crossbows were gone, their hands empty. Leona reappeared where she had been standing, casually dusting off her hands. A pile of disassembled crossbows lay at her feet.
“What?!” the leader exclaimed, staring at his empty hands, his voice filled with disbelief.
…
Meanwhile, a tall figure emerged from the shadows beneath one of the cargo wagons, a charged explosive spell crackling in their hand.
The guards, already on high alert, noticed the figure, but before they could raise the alarm, the figure unleashed a devastating blast of magic!
Boom!
The wagon, loaded with potions, was engulfed in flames.
A diversion!
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