Chapter 132: Role Reversal
The boy's teeth began to chatter, his tail pressed tightly between his legs.
A soft sound came from behind him. He turned and saw his mother coming out from the inner room.
Her tiger ears were pressed flat against her head, eyes full of terror.
His mother came quickly to the door, crouched, and pulled the boy into her arms.
Her arms were shaking, but she held tight — as though trying to press Dasha into her own body.
"Mama..."
"Shh." She put a finger to her lips, tiger-slit eyes fixed on the wooden door.
Outside, the hoofbeats grew louder, like thunder rolling across the roof.
The ground was shaking. The stone walls of the house emitted faint rustling sounds, and dust sifted down from the cracks between the stones.
His mother pressed Dasha's head against her shoulder, not letting him look through the door gap anymore.
He could feel her heartbeat — fast, as though it might leap from her chest.
---
At the village entrance, his father stood in the front row of the militia.
Part of the village's fighting men had been conscripted into the Steel Fang Tribe's main force attacking the Dragon Kingdom this year. A village of several dozen stone houses — and only around twenty militiamen stood here now.
His father watched the silver-white tide drawing ever closer. The muscles on that tiger-striped face were twitching beyond control.
He turned to the man beside him.
"In previous years, even when the Silver Demons took the initiative, they only ever raided the Dragon Kingdom's fallen towns near the front line."
His voice was dry, like two sheets of sandpaper rubbing together.
"How did they get this far..."
This deep into the beastman nation's interior.
---
One quarter-hour earlier.
Germann rode a loop around the village's outer perimeter.
His horse's hooves struck the cracked earth, kicking up small puffs of dust. His eyes were half-shut, the veins at his temple faintly raised — as though straining to catch some invisible signal.
This was Germann's [Innate Ability].
A vague sense of demi-human positions — not a large range, not high precision, but remarkably useful for detecting large concentrations of demi-humans.
He reined in behind a cluster of bushes on the village's western side, activated his [Innate Ability] one final time, then turned his horse and galloped back toward the formation.
"Lord Aindra." Germann reined in before Lucian's horse. "No ambush detected around the village. No other beastman settlements within several li."
Lucian gave a nod.
"Good work."
He glanced at the sky. The sun hung at a position slightly west of overhead. The distant village shimmered in the heat, like a painting soaked in water.
"Proceed as planned. We start with this village."
Lucian's order passed down to every rider behind him.
"Ride in. Kill every armed adult male beastman."
Over a hundred cavalry riders tightened their grips simultaneously. The drawn-tight killing intent spread silently through the formation like an invisible tide.
Lucian rode at the very front. He hadn't chosen a concealed approach.
The sound of hooves rolled across the open ground like thunder. Dust rose from the earth — like a great yellow-brown dragon surging toward the unremarkable village.
The village's warning horns sounded.
The adult male beastmen came charging out of their homes. Some carried iron axes, some gripped bone spears, some had only managed to grab a sharpened wooden stake.
They gathered quickly at the village entrance, forming into several loose fighting lines.
But those beastman-marked faces showed little fighting spirit. The fear behind them was barely concealed.
Several beastmen's hands were shaking.
Evidently "Silver Demons" was not just a name that frightened children.
Lucian was at the very front, golden hair streaming in the wind.
The warhorse screamed as it charged into the open ground at the village entrance. His sword was already drawn.
The silver-white blade cut an arc through the air, aimed directly at the tiger-striped beastman in the front row.
That beastman was exceptionally powerfully built — the tiger stripes on his forehead deep and distinct, both hands gripping a heavy iron axe.
He saw the flash of the blade coming and instinctively raised the axe to block.
But Lucian's sword didn't clash with the axe.
The blade deflected slightly at the instant it was about to meet the axe handle, slid along it, and then —
[Flowing Acceleration]
The instant the Martial Art activated, the sword's speed jumped to an entirely different level.
The silver-white light left a trail in the air, then cut across the beastman's neck.
The head flew.
The tiger-headed beastman's eyes were still open, those tiger-slit pupils frozen mid-expression — disbelief, caught at the last instant. The iron axe dropped from his slackened grip, struck the ground, and left a small crater. The headless torso swayed once, then crashed down. Blood surged from the severed neck in a dark-red arc through the sunlight.
Lucian's horse didn't stop.
He charged into the crowd, left hand on the reins, right hand swinging the sword in wide sweeps. Every stroke brought down another beastman.
To minimize the unit's potential casualties, he was targeting only the ones who looked strongest.
His movements were sharp and decisive — like cutting through a field of ripe wheat, each stroke landing precisely at the base of a stalk.
The cavalry behind him followed.
The mithril-plated armor caught the sunlight and merged into a silver-white tide. Hooves struck the earth, and the dust thrown up mixed with blood, spreading through the air in a dark-red haze. They charged into the crowd — spears thrusting, swords sweeping. A shield blocked a bone spear's lunge; then the rider beside him put a sword through the beastman's chest.
Because beastmen possessed racial levels, they grew in strength without deliberate training, and their ceiling was one rank higher than that of native humans. These beastman militiamen were generally around level ten — far above an ordinary Kingdom soldier. But they were no match for the Aindra domain cavalry, whose coordination was tight and equipment excellent.
Even one-on-one was no sure thing for them. And the cavalry's numbers vastly exceeded theirs.
The fight was over in minutes.
More than twenty beastman bodies lay strewn across the open ground at the village entrance, blood soaking into the dirt.
Lucian reined in his horse and shook the blood from his blade.
"Count casualties." He turned his head and said to his adjutant.
The adjutant reported quickly.
"My lord — no fatalities. Three light injuries."
Lucian gave a nod.
"See to the wounded."
Then he raised his head. His gaze moved past the bodies on the ground to the depths of the village.
There were low stone houses there. Trembling beastman young ones. Beastman women huddled behind closed doors.
At the center of the village was the area ringed by thick wooden posts.
Lucian dismounted.
His boots stepped through the blood pooled on the ground, and he walked in long strides toward the fence.
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