Chapter Thirty-One: The First Group Battle

Kevin still dug a pit and buried the severed head, saluting the grave. He had always believed that, regardless of what one had done in life, once dead, a person deserved some measure of dignity.

The others kept their distance; though they had all undergone basic training, many had never seen battle. Grey, for instance, was already retching quietly, having moved off to the side.

Stadt approached Kevin and whispered, “Could it be that the assassin is secretly protecting us? In that case, we might actually be safe.”

“Don’t be too optimistic,” Kevin replied just as softly. “A few days ago, when we were in the city, there was someone by the roadside reading ‘The Annals of Assassins’—probably trying to lure me over. I ignored it, but now it seems it might have been the same person.”

“The assassin who answered all your questions?” Stadt asked again.

“Probably not,” Kevin shook his head lightly. “The reply was written openly, unlike the other messages—it felt like the work of a novice. It was likely that female assassin we know. Today’s visitor wasn’t her.”

Stadt fell silent for a moment. “To be honest, out here in the wild, if an assassin really wanted to kill us, there’s no way anyone would ever find out who did it.”

Kevin nodded, sharing his concern. “I worry too—if I write something they don’t like, they could come and stab me at any moment.”

As they spoke, the gorilla finally stirred, patting its head and slowly trying to rise. When it saw the group of humans watching, it leapt up in fright. But still weak, its limbs gave way, and it rolled to the side, getting covered in leaves.

Everyone jumped. The professor quickly intervened, “Let it go.”

The gorilla scrambled away, disappearing into the jungle. The professor sighed, “Gorillas have good memories. After encountering danger here, I doubt any will come back to this area.”

The group gathered around, momentarily silent.

“We should head back,” the professor said at last.

“What about our mission?” Kevin asked.

The professor managed a wry smile. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you. Let’s consider the task complete. I’ll pay your wages in full, but as you all know, we didn’t actually accomplish anything this time.”

Everyone sighed. Sein interjected, “Why don’t we follow the gorilla? Its tracks should still be visible.”

“No,” the professor shook his head. “It’s good that you young people have energy, but I’m getting too old for this. In the past, I’d have stayed out here alone for a month. Ah, forget it—let’s go back.”

His disappointment was obvious to all; after all, they had endured so much hardship only to come away empty-handed. Kevin and the others could only console themselves—they’d finished a job, after all—but for the professor, it meant wasting his resources for nothing.

Kevin several times wanted to ask why an elderly man would still venture into the primeval forest. Such grueling work should be left to the young. Yet in reality, the young did not measure up; otherwise, why would the professor come in person? Aristocratic students shirked hardship, commoners were slow-witted—despite the nation’s grandeur, true talent remained scarce. Kevin also wondered if the old professor was still working so hard for money’s sake.

In the end, Kevin didn’t ask—some questions need no answer. Even if told, those who don’t understand never will.

The ten of them began the trek back, this time with Kevin taking the lead, mimicking the professor’s technique by gently sweeping the undergrowth with a branch. The professor nodded slightly at this, but since Kevin wasn’t his student, he said nothing.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded ahead—several people approaching. The group tensed; moments later, six figures emerged from behind the trees, all heavily veiled, their gender indistinguishable. Each held a weapon, mostly machetes, though the blades looked worn.

“Who are you?” Kevin asked, though he already suspected the answer.

One of the six, tall and thin, stepped forward. “Sirs, have you seen anyone dressed like us, carrying a hunting bow?”

The group exchanged glances—they all knew the man in question was now just a severed head, recently buried by Kevin.

Kevin looked around. “Did any of you see anyone like that?”

After a brief hesitation, everyone shook their heads. “What are you talking about?” “No idea.” Thankfully, they were all veiled against insects, so their faces betrayed nothing.

“Are you hunters?” Kevin asked casually.

“Yes,” replied the man.

“Any luck today?” Kevin asked.

“Not at all. Worse, we lost one of our companions,” the hunter replied, pulling out a map. “We also think we’re lost. Would you sirs mind helping us figure out where we are?”

“Certainly,” Kevin said with a smile. “Come here, show me the map.”

“The light’s better over here—come take a look,” the man said, squatting and spreading the map in a patch of sunlight.

“Looks like your map’s unclear. Here, use mine,” Kevin said, casually spreading his own map on his shield.

The group fell silent, exchanging glances—all but the dullest could sense the tension in the air. Weapons were gripped tightly, everyone ready for action.

“Don’t panic!” Kevin barked, mainly at Sein. “Let me sort this out first!”

The other party’s tone turned cold. “Hmph! What’s there to ask? We’ve found our boss’s corpse and his severed head. Besides you, who else could have done this?”

“Sorry,” Kevin replied, “but to be honest, we didn’t kill your boss! He was poaching gorillas and escaped before we arrived.”

“Then who killed him?” one of the group roared.

“Calm down,” Kevin said. “Your boss was killed by a courier.”

There was a pause.

“Damn it!” The six burst into fury and charged. Kevin was ready—his magic missile shot toward one of the poachers. The six of them split in different directions, and the six recruits found themselves facing one opponent each. For these new soldiers, unused to real combat, and facing foes driven mad with rage, things were dire—especially since they were already exhausted from lying in wait so long.

Kevin had originally avoided confrontation, even holding Sein back from pursuit earlier. But now the poachers were openly attacking kingdom soldiers—a grave crime. If even one escaped, they’d bring disaster upon the kingdom, so the poachers would fight to the death to wipe Kevin’s group out.

They had intended to lure Kevin over under the pretense of needing directions and ambush him. But seeing he wasn’t fooled, they attacked. The death of their boss was a blood feud, and the assassin who killed him had left Kevin’s group to take the blame.

“Parrot, can you fight?” Kevin asked, parrying with both a magical and a regular shield, glancing at the parrot on his shoulder.

“No,” replied the parrot.

“What can you do, then?”

“I can fly.” The parrot flapped its wings and soared out of sight.

No one had time to mock this. The poachers hacked and slashed with their battered blades in a frenzy. Though their weapons looked decrepit, they were deadly. Kevin’s sword chipped after a single clash.

“Orca!” Kevin called urgently. “What are they using?” Orca, the city lord’s son from Landon—a city famed for weapons—should know.

“This…” Orca retreated, his shield sliced in half. “They’re smuggled Dwarven weapons! Our shields can’t stop them, only our swords can!”

“Aaagh!” Grey screamed—his shield shattered, his hand bleeding. His attacker immediately swung for his heart. The others were all engaged and couldn’t help; worry was useless.

At that crucial moment, the professor flung a handful of gray powder into the poacher’s eyes. The man screamed and staggered back, clutching his face—Grey survived by a hair.

“What did you throw?” the other poachers cried, their assault faltering.

Sein seized the moment, sword flashing with energy, slashing at his opponent. The poacher dodged nimbly, and Sein’s blade gouged the earth instead. The poacher lunged in, and Sein couldn’t recover in time.

Panicking, Sein dropped his sword and leapt back, his face burning with shame. But with their heads covered, no one could see him blush.

“Sein!” Kevin couldn’t help but yell, “What the hell are you charging for?”

Sein had no time to reply; he defended with his battered shield, but it was cleaved in two after only a few strikes.

“Grey, go help!” Kevin ordered. Grey, though wounded, still had his sword, and his opponent was blinded. Grey could move.

“Huh? Oh!” Grey dashed past the professor and others to Sein’s side.

Sein grabbed Grey’s sword. “You go back.”

Grey wandered dazedly back, his hand still bleeding, facing the blinded poacher who also looked to be in pain.

“Grey! What are you waiting for?” Kevin bellowed. “No sword? Use your bow! No bow? Use your belt!”

“Oh!” Grey snapped out of it, drew his practice bow, and fired an arrow into the blinded poacher’s gut, who groaned in pain.

“Stop shooting the one who’s already out of the fight!” Kevin was nearly hysterical. “Help someone else! Sein first!”

On the other side, the poachers shouted, “Why does he talk so much?”

Kevin sneered. “Listen up—our parrot has gone to call for reinforcements. I advise you to surrender before it’s too late.”

The poachers wavered, but their leader scoffed, “Who are you fooling? A parrot, calling for help?”

Thwack! Grey, after long aiming, loosed an arrow, but the poacher blocked it with his blade. The arrow startled Sein. “Grey! If you hit me, I’ll kill you myself!”

“My hand’s hurt—I can’t aim!” Grey nearly wept.

Suddenly, an arrow shot out from the forest, aimed straight at Kevin. He couldn’t dodge—if he did, the professor and others behind him would be hit. He threw up a magic shield at an angle. The arrow shattered it, but the deflection sent it over everyone’s heads. A poacher lunged, angling his blade for Kevin, whose sword was out of position and couldn’t defend himself or retreat.

At the critical moment, Kevin flung his sword at the attacker’s thigh. The man dodged, but Kevin immediately fired a magic missile at the sword hilt, changing its trajectory to sweep at the man’s groin.

Startled, the poacher’s attack faltered, and Kevin parried with his shield, snatching his sword out of the air and striking a pose. The poacher hesitated.

That maneuver had been extremely risky—a thrown sword, redirected mid-air by magic, and caught on the rebound. One mistake and the whole team could have been wiped out. Kevin had done it out of desperation; now, having succeeded, he almost felt the satisfaction of a master toying with novices.

“Who are you?” the poacher demanded, wary now.

Kevin ignored him, speaking to his companions. “Careful—there’s an archer in the woods!” If the archer had targeted anyone else, someone would already be dead.

This warning put everyone on edge. In truth, if the archer fired at Kevin again, he could not guarantee his own survival.

“They’re finished!” one poacher shouted. “Avenge our boss!”

Everyone was drenched in sweat. Stadt couldn’t help but scream, “Assassin! Brother Assassin, where are you? We can’t hold out much longer!”

The woods remained silent. The poachers burst out laughing. “Assassin? Read too many adventure stories, have you?”

Kevin glanced at his team. The situation was grim. Already exhausted from the long wait, their weapons outmatched, they could only defend, while protecting the professor and his students, with an enemy archer lurking in the woods.

“Professor!” Kevin yanked off his head covering for a breath of air. “This is bad. Do you have any special tricks left?”

The professor sighed. “If I had any, I wouldn’t have hired you as guards.”

“What was that powder?”

“Just quicklime,” the professor replied. “It might work against a couple of highwaymen, but these people…”

“Don’t panic!” Kevin tried to rally them. “The parrot’s gone for help. Just hold on a little longer!”

Thwack! Another arrow from the woods—this time Grey instinctively raised his wounded hand, which was pierced through. He screamed in pain.

“It seems we’re in real danger,” the professor said calmly. “We’d best write our wills.” He took out pen and paper and began writing. The three students followed suit.

The others were speechless. Such composure and calm truly surpassed that of most on the continent.

Swish, swish, swish! The gap created by Grey’s injury was exploited at once. The archer, worried about hitting his own side before, now loosed arrows freely.

Stadt took three arrows in quick succession and fell to his knees. His attacker swung viciously, but Stadt, thinking fast, lowered his head and swept at the man’s legs in a desperate attempt at mutual destruction. The poacher, wary, leapt back. The archer continued to shoot.

Stadt, despairing, could only close his eyes and await death.

Suddenly, a stone flew from the other side, striking the archer’s forehead with a sickening crack. The archer fell dead.

“Who’s there?” the poachers cried, turning as one—only to see a gorilla step from the brush.

“Ooh ooh ooh!” the gorilla cried, gesturing. In an instant, seven or eight more gorillas rose up behind, all calling out and brandishing sticks and stones as they charged.