Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

Chapter 1161: People are Flooding

---A few minutes earlier---

The quiet sound of fists clenching and teeth grinding could be heard across the southern wall of Delta. The men standing here, looking in helpless fury as their home was destroyed, were the last remaining soldiers of Chrona, who were left to guard the city wall until Spatia arrived.

Maybe it was wrong to call them the last remaining soldiers of Chrona, as all of them were locally from Delta and had joined Chrona’s army to protect their homes. They had volunteered for this last task, not because they wanted more time to give their home a last goodbye.

Looking at his men from his office inside the gatehouse, Commander Garroun sighed. Looking at the stack of documents on his desk, he was seriously deliberating their next steps. His fingers thoughtfully brushed over the stack of employment contracts.

Yes, his men had not stayed to hand over their home to the tyrants of Spatia. Their plan was actually to use the remaining days to annul the magic contracts that bound them to the orders of Merkraut Sar and defend Delta against the invaders.

He himself had wrestled with the doubts in his mind for a long time. He was born and raised in Chrona and had always been proud of his loyalty to the empire, but he couldn’t agree to the things happening here. Ultimately, he had decided to help them, instead of stopping them.

There was no concrete information about how long Spatia would have taken to arrive in Delta, but they thought to have at least a couple days A couple days to correctly annul the magic contracts and set them free from their oath of loyalty. Maybe even have enough time to organize a defense force…

Yet, Man proposes, God disposes. The supervision had barely left this world, when the demon army flooded the city, and they all were dammed to watch on helplessly because of these contracts. Their orders bound them to the tops of these walls.

The consequences of breaking the orders would have rendered them just as useless as staying on the walls. They would just increase the number of casualties. A couple of days to break the contracts correctly… What if he just burned them right here, right now?

They would all suffer a terrifying recoil; he might even die but his men would survive. Momentarily weakened, sure, but free to take action and defend their people. But many of them would die, throwing themselves into the flood of bodies they couldn’t stop, not even in their top form.

Conflicted, he kept staring at the contracts, pressured by the curses of his men on the wall and the noises of destruction of the city. Screams of agony and fear, explosions and desperate battles, the sound weighed heavy on his mind.

To condemn his men to face a pointless death, for the vain satisfaction of allowing them to die in glory, defending what they loved? Or keep them on the walls, probably preserving more people of Delta, than they could save in the battle below?

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His fist slammed on the table. He couldn’t make the decision. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stand by either of the options. Cowardly, he rather didn’t make a decision at all. He couldn’t face the possible consequences, he…

WOOOO~ WOOOO~

In his weakest moment, he suddenly heard horns shaking the district, even the walls below his feet. Running outside, he joined the commotion on the walls.

“People are flooding into Delta! It’s a massive army!” the lookout at the watchtower cried out, not bothering to use skills or magic to report the scene. Thunder and lightning suddenly raged in the skies above them.

Garroun could now also see the knights suddenly pouring into the city from a place west of the southern gate. They couldn’t see where exactly all of these people came from, but he recognized some of the armors, before …

“Hear ye! Hear ye!...”

Minas Mar had come to claim Delta.

…

---Present---

The demon commander's face fell seeing his troops being pushed back like this. However, this wasn't the first time, and it would not be the last time he experienced a difficult situation on the battlefield. He quickly judged the situation and the causes.

Although Minas Mar had the upper hand when it came to the quality of foot soldiers, this could be made up with numbers. What truly guided the tide of battle were the groups of high-profile leaders slaughtering demons and pushing back the front line.

Apart from Minas Mar, there were also a few groups of fighters that had emerged from among the populace of Delta, that were resisting. One in particular was pushing back with equal power to the soldiers of Minas Mar.

If they wanted to use their numerical advantage, they had to balance the influence of these elites. Decisively, he called out for his troop of loyal subordinates. They were demons he had handpicked and trained. It would be easy for them to get rid of most obstacles. Once the elites were gone or occupied, they could use their numbers to take care of the golems and guards.

“Lachmal, Kreischmal, Stirbmal, go up there and stop those beasts. Don't look at me like that, I just want you to distract them, not slay them,” he spoke to the three demon generals under his direct command, who had the best skills in aerial combat. “Weinmal, Hormal, Keinmal...” he named another ten of his subordinates. “Take some people and stop those leading the front lines,” he continued, pointing at a few places.

Among them were an anthropomorphic bull and his team, quickly dispatching demons with wide AOE skills, a team of knights leading golems with terrifying efficiency, and various more parties of Oathguards led by significantly strong players identified as members of Minas Mar.

But before they could go to the places instructed by their commander, 9 of them were struck down with a single attack each. Two had arrows blowing up their heads. Another two were killed by the same attack, something that looked like an orange stake made of solid heat and fire. Their bodies instantly turned to ashes.

The fifth died from a lightning bolt and the sixth had his heart skewered by an aura spear. Number Seven was killed by a Bone Stake. Eight got bisected by a windblade. The last one was probably the most terrifying one, since he suddenly started screeching in fear and simply died without any signs of how...

“Yo, big guy~ Did you think we would just leave you alone?” a caster with a dainty wand, wearing silver plate armor asked him joyfully. The surrounding building roofs were filled with figures, some of which had just killed his personal subordinates with ease.

The fat demon squinted. He couldn’t remember their names, but he recognized their faces from the dossier he had read about Minas Mar. All of them were part of the teams, the guild used as external strike forces, innocently dubbed "The Field Teams".

“S-Sir?” the remaining four underlings asked unsurely. They didn't know whether they should defend the commander or use his earlier command as an excuse to run. . These maggots wouldn't be any help anyway.

“Just fuck off and do what you are told, I can take care of them myself,” the commander said grimly. If they could distract the beasts in the sky, they could at least gain the advantage in the sky. It was obvious, what would happen to the battlefield, if these people were allowed to roam freely.

He on the other hand would face off against the elites of Minas Mar alone and keep them here. He had some pride in his strength. He was no weaker than the sneaky pig that had an unlucky encounter with the unleashed Amazon. The Amazon wasn't here, but he didn't dare underestimate his opponents.

Unlike this pig, he was ready to do anything to survive.