"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
The urgent banging of gongs and drums, along with cries of alarm, rang out at the front of the convoy, then stopped abruptly after only a couple of strikes.
The expressions of the two people inside the carriage changed drastically. Shaka was certain the messenger had been killed.
He immediately mobilized the monsters lying in ambush nearby, ordering them to surround the area, while he led Old Maize out of the carriage.
"What happened? What happened?" Old Maize asked anxiously, grabbing a guard whose face was covered in blood.
The guard was terrified, struggling to escape with a look of panic on his face as he repeated:
"A demon! That's a demon! It kills everyone it sees, everyone it sees!"
Shaka frowned slightly. Looking into the distance, he saw chaos ahead, with figures fleeing in all directions. He also sensed that the monsters he had deployed were being defeated at a visible pace.
"This is troublesome!"
Shaka pulled Old Maize aside and said calmly, "Now is the time for you to stick together with the people you trust. Ignore the others."
"But—"
"Leave the rest to me!"
Though Shaka had not yet confirmed Old Maize's true character he might still be a cunning schemer, not all in the caravan were bad. It was clear many were ordinary people trying to make a living.
Under Old Maize's direction, these people gradually gathered around him, while the vast majority chose to scatter and flee.
Shaka observed the situation calmly and focused his thoughts:
First, the enemy is extremely strong, not just ordinary strong. Their target is Old Maize's caravan, not me.
Second, those suspicious-looking members clearly don't trust Old Maize's abilities, or they know exactly who the attacker is and realize he can't protect them. My priority now is to protect the ordinary employees with Old Maize.
We can investigate any hidden motives later; right now, we need to save lives.
I have the Flying Thunder God Kunai, the Fairy Blade, and Spatial magic. I'm confident I can assassinate any adventurer with a surprise attack, and if all else fails, I can always escape. But the opponent is incredibly fast, only afterimages are visible, making it hard to seize an opportunity.
Running away would be foolish; the screams from the forest prove what happens to those who flee.
That leaves only one option: stall them for a few seconds, try to talk, and either extract information or persuade them to stop. When the attacker targeted the villains Old Maize mentioned, I had a feeling this approach might work.
The plan was set.
Shaka gripped the Flying Thunder God Kunai tightly, his eyes scanning the forest nervously.
A moment later, all screams and wails fell silent, as if death itself was slowly consuming everything around them.
Some people began crying loudly; others broke down and knelt, begging for mercy.
"Help me! I don't want to die!"
"My wife is pregnant, I need to get back for our baby's one-month celebration!"
"Ahhh, my wife said the same, but I haven't been home for two years!"
"Uh, I haven't been home for a year either..."
The crying rose and fell, then stopped abruptly and awkwardly.
"Stop crying," Shaka snapped impatiently.
The noise was impairing his perception. But the crying continued, as if they feared stopping would mean they'd never get another chance.
"I told you not to cry! I will protect you!"
Upon hearing this, the crying subsided considerably, though some still whimpered softly.
Da da da.
The sound of leather boots stepping on fallen leaves echoed through the quiet. Shaka knew the attacker had finished with the others and was now coming for them.
The convoy stretched a full 40 meters, but those final 20 meters felt like an eternity to Shaka.
He saw the figure shrouded in darkness approaching step by step, the blood-stained wooden knife in her hand dripping crimson drops to the ground. The only distinguishable feature was her eyes deep within the cloak, radiating intense murderous intent.
A bead of cold sweat slid down Shaka's forehead, but he forced himself into the zone, muttering incantations as he prepared his magic.
Brute force won't work here. Against such a master, I must maximize every advantage.
Just as Shaka tensed and prepared to speak, the figure vanished without a trace!
Shaka's hair stood on end. Instinctively, he threw the Flying Thunder God Kunai into the air and in that exact moment, he met those chilling eyes again, only 80 centimeters away.
"Whoosh—"
"Call out—"
The wooden sword sliced through the air, cutting open Shaka's collar. But he had already reappeared above the figure, gripping the Kunai and activating his magic to hurl it toward her.
The figure paused briefly before spinning around, drawing her sword to knock the Kunai away.
At this moment, Shaka's prepared magic was complete. His hand loosened, and the tattoo on his arm burned hot. A rusty knife engulfed in flames materialized in his grasp, and he called out the spell name:
[Red Spikeweed]
The flames intensified as Shaka unleashed a powerful downward strike toward the approaching figure.
"That magic is..."
The black-robed attacker's eyes widened. She shifted the wooden knife from a throat strike to a defensive stance, retreating as she blocked the blow.
The rusty knife and wooden knife collided with a crackling sound.
"So hard!" Shaka cursed inwardly, not expecting her weapon to be so durable. But judging by her reaction...
"My judgment was right! It really is her!"
Joy lit up Shaka's face, though he remained cautious. Flames ignited beneath his feet, propelling him forward for another attack.
Clap clap clap.
As blades clashed and metal hummed, Shaka sensed the black-robed warrior's fighting spirit beginning to wane.
I can't miss this chance! I have to restrain her and pull her out of this irrational state!
His hand moved to his waist, activating a mechanism that shot two hooks through gaps in her defenses. Caught off guard, she raised her hands to block but the hooks entangled her arms.
"Perfect opportunity!"
Flames erupted beneath his feet as the grappling hooks retracted, pulling him forward for a horizontal flaming slash.
At that moment, the black-robed figure flinched.
Is she afraid? Of what?
Shaka knew the answer, she feared her old friend seeing what she had become.
Suddenly, the black-robed warrior unleashed a burst of power, grabbing the hooks and pulling hard. Shaka's body was yanked toward her at high speed.
"Wow!"
Bang.
A powerful roundhouse kick struck Shaka squarely in the stomach, and the rusty blade was snatched from his hand.
Shaka recognized the insurmountable gap in skill.
"Is this the peak combat power of Level 4?"
Thrown backward, Shaka leaned against a large tree, clutching his stomach as he stood up. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.
Sister... did you have to hit me so hard? We're family, after all...
The opponent possessed incredible combat skill and experience, far beyond what a novice like Shaka could match.
So...
"I think we should have a serious talk, Ryu."