What is an offensive priest?

Chapter 40 The War Begins!

clang--

The first bell of the morning rang.

What woke the villagers of the town was not the clucking of poultry, but the alarm sounding from the watchtower!

The tolling of the bell was like an invisible whip, lashing fiercely at everyone's heart.

The war has begun!

Inside the blacksmith's shop.

Groon was clumsily trying to squeeze his bloated body into the worn-out leather armor that had been gathering dust for over a decade.

"It seems that these years of comfortable life have finally taken their toll on me!"

After his wife Mary finally managed to tighten the straps, she couldn't help but laugh at his comical appearance.

But as I laughed, tears uncontrollably streamed down my face.

Gron gently embraced his wife and whispered words of comfort.

"Don't worry, I'll defeat those ugly greens and come back safe and sound!"

"For our children!"

His wife sobbed softly, but she didn't selfishly try to persuade Groon to stay.

Because she knew that in this battle, for the sake of their homeland, no one had a way out!

Gron tiptoed into his son Timmy's bedroom. The five-year-old dwarf boy was still curled up in his thin blankets, fast asleep.

He gently kissed his son's forehead, and the tough man's eyes were filled with tenderness.

"Go to sleep, Timmy!"

"When you wake up, all of this will be over!"

After bidding farewell to his wife and children, Gron carried his hammer, which he used for forging iron, and walked out of the blacksmith shop with firm steps.

The bard Omir was already leaning against the opposite wall, clutching his prized lute.

"See? I warned you!"

"Family will be a source of worry for you, unlike me who is free and unburdened. Even if I die someday, I'll be buried in the earth, with no worries whatsoever!"

He plucked the strings, producing a few light and cheerful notes, as if accompanying his carefree spirit.

When faced with his cousin's teasing, the rough-looking man, Gron, looked slightly shy, but his eyes remained resolute.

"I won't die, my wife and children are still waiting for me at home!"

The bard Omir gave him a deep look, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

The two walked towards the wall.

At first, there were only the two of them, walking alone on the empty street.

But soon.

squeak-

A wooden door opened.

A burly farmer, carrying a rusty hoe, silently followed behind them.

squeak-

Another wooden door opened.

A one-eyed hunter with a scar on his face, holding a homemade short bow, joined the group with steady steps.

The crowd, like a silent torrent, continued to converge on the streets of the town, resolutely surging towards the wall.

Even though this journey was one of no return, no one stopped.

Because behind them are their families, countless other families, and the home on which everyone depends for survival!

This battle is for Blackrock Town!

On the high walls of the outer tower.

Chief of the Guard, Weiss, was standing before all the young guards.

The weathered old soldier with the scarred face, wearing his worn-out half-armor, scanned the crowd with his eyes.

"Today's battle."

"Some of us will sacrifice ourselves, or perhaps... all of us will sacrifice ourselves!"

Chief of Staff Weiss's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached the ears of every guard.

"But I hope that you will die fighting the goblins head-on, rather than fleeing in the face of battle and becoming goblin food."

"Remember this: a scar on your back is a man's shame!"

The young guards' innocent eyes shone with determination, and their voices were loud and clear.

"yes!"

The other side of the wall.

Richard and Chloe stood side by side, gazing into the distance at the army of the Supreme God approaching like a black tide.

The number of enemies was greater than they had anticipated.

"This battle was very dangerous, are you really not regretful?"

Upon hearing this, Kro smiled and pointed to the Mester family crest on the chest of the silver-armored man, a silver raven with outstretched wings, clutching a broken longsword in its claws.

"To uphold the code of chivalry, even unto death!"

"These are the rules established by the blood and flesh of the Mester family's forefathers!"

Kro drew the Dawnbreaker Greatsword from his waist, and the sacred runes on the blade lit up one by one, radiating a pale golden light in the morning glow.

"I am deeply honored to be able to follow in their footsteps!"

Avir then transformed back into a drow elf, gripping his staff tightly as he stood beside the two.

The ground trembled continuously, accompanied by fine sand and gravel.

The army of the Supreme God, like a foul torrent gushing from the Wailing Mountains, slowly rolled across the wilderness outside Blackrock Town, crushing before the great chasm beyond the walls.

At the very front of the army stood a figure that was both elegant and deadly, completely out of place with its surroundings.

That was a drow elf.

She was wearing a full set of black plate armor with a dark metallic sheen.

The shoulder armor is sculpted into a twisted spider shape, while the chest armor is etched with countless agonizing and wailing human faces, creating a grotesque and blasphemous design.

She rode a giant dire wolf that was over six feet tall at the shoulder, its gaping maw drooling from its sharp teeth.

Behind her was the main battle group led by the gray dwarf overseer.

These fallen dwarves, banished to the depths of the Underdark, now form the backbone of the Supreme God's army.

The leading gray dwarf overseer was less than four feet tall, but his width was almost equal to his height, making him look like a moving iron barrel.

He wore a heavy plate armor forged from black iron and held a warhammer that was disproportionate to his size.

Behind him were five minotaurs, also from the Underdark, their massive bodies resembling a moving mountain.

On either side of the Supreme God's army were the goblin tribes they had captured from the Wailing Mountains, and the gnoll army led by Yenogufang.

Several ogres, each over ten feet tall, with sickly gray-green skin and covered in festering boils, stood out conspicuously among the goblin tribe, much larger than the bear goblins.

The ogres growled, their murky yellow eyes fixed on the walls of Blackwater.

Grom, the Grey Dwarf Overseer, also rode a dire wolf, following a signal from Drow the Soul-Bender.

It suddenly squeezed its thick, short thighs together, rode the dire wolf and took the lead, stopping in front of the trench.

"The three-day deadline has passed."

"Hand over the chosen ones of the Supreme God at once, or the army will raze Blackrock Town to the ground!"

Richard stood on the city wall, listening to the warning from the gray dwarf overseer, and simply spoke calmly.

"Avel!"

"Fire Bolt!"

Avel, who was beside him, understood immediately and released a scorching arrow that drew an arc in the air and shot straight toward the True Soul cultivator, Drow.

Just as it was about to hit, the opponent suddenly raised her palm, and the flaming arrow seemed to sink into the sea, quietly extinguishing itself in her hand.

Richard stood on the wall, his gaze fixed on the True Soul Being, Zhuo Er.

The other person also sensed Richard's gaze and looked up at him, his deep eyes now completely devoid of patience.

"attack!"

She spoke softly, her voice low.

Upon hearing this, the gray dwarf beside him blew his horn with all his might.

The deafening bugle call heralded the official start of the war!

The green-skinned goblins surged towards Blackrock Town like a tidal wave.

Richard didn't say much, but spoke in a deep voice.

"Let's fight!"