Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Chapter 933: The Voice Of Eclanor - Part 2

"You don’t have to follow me," as the gates to their massive walls were closing behind them, Melenai turned to her company before the gates shut entirely. "I can talk to these would-be usurpers myself."

Instead of a verbal response, Flitza drew her flaming sword and kept it at the ready. At the same time, Meimei flew closer to the bard, and Garcia wheeled Ditsy forward with an umbrella upheld to keep her from the harsh desert sunlight.

Getting out of the wheelchair, the vampiress grabbed the umbrella for herself and stepped in front of everyone. Staring into the distance, her eyelids narrowed as she assessed the might of the enemy forces. Though most looked at her in confusion for a while, their attention was brought back to the middle of the group as Melenai spoke again.

"Kumi, keep an eye out for reinforcements from the sky," shooing off the raven from her shoulders, the leader dropped her shoulders ever so slightly. "Mei, at least you should head back. You can’t fight or run very well if we have to escape these savages."

"I will manage, don’t worry," forcing a smile on her face, the blacksmith turned her gaze to the enemy forces in the distance. "If it comes to that...I may have something up my sleeve that may help us."

"Do not try to be a hero, okay?" With a heavy heart, Melenai followed the caladrius’s gaze. Dead set on the enemy, Mei was visibly afraid and shaken, and yet she wished to accompany what little ’family’ she had left. "Onward then, my band of stubborn women."

Making the small trek through the sand dunes with patches of greenery everywhere, thanks to Athenia, Melenai walked with feigned confidence to the enemy. Her nerves had turned to steel, and her heart raced faster than ever. One wrong move could spell their end, and allowing weakness to mask their faces could only expedite their end.

Alas, standing in front of the four battalions led by a chosen donned in scarcely any other clothes than weapons and hide, Melenai moved her right hand to her chest and drew on her magic. Feeling her mana coiling on her tongue, she slowly lifted her head and faced the enemy head-on with confidence.

"What do you want?" She asked.

Like a noose that tightens around one’s neck, the enemy felt Melenai’s words gripping their throats–instilling a sense of mild dread. To the surprise of the bard, however, the enemy remained sound of mind and did not answer outright. The battalions split in four; each had their leader–the chosen step forward with their weapons at arms.

"A bard, who would’ve expected that we’d be greeted by a maestro instead of a warrior?" The right-most leader, a woman wearing a crude white wolf’s hide, smirked at the demi-goat. Throwing her mighty axe over her shoulders, she crossed her legs, still standing, and sneered. "Make way, woman, our lady of blood hot passion demands the sacrifice of your children!"

"Enough talking, Gretta!" Cutting off his own companion, Ostellio, the forgemaster set his fiery gaze upon Melenai. A burning storm raged behind his eyes as he leered at her with pure, unbridled hate despite having never met her before. Lifting his rough Iron staff, he planted it into the ground with a downward fling. "Our lady of arms commands you to die, sheep! SO FALL!! DO YOURSELF THE HONOR OF COMPLYING WITH WOLCENYA’S DECREE!!"

The screaming old man’s tirade almost made Melenai flinch and recoil. However, standing her ground, she took a moment to look at the chosen and the army behind them. The woman called Gretta was leading an army of mostly women with ginger hair and scars decorating their bodies. She herself was one amongst many, but the scars on her skin couldn’t be rivaled by anyone else.

Like a combination of Regalia and the valkyrie barbarian, she was fierce in demeanor and just as intimidating. In contrast, the man looked withered, but his body was mangled beyond reason, instilling a sense of dread unlikely to be caused by an old man. His skin was patched with burn marks and scars left behind by burning oil. At many places, including his groin, steel had replaced his flesh entirely.

As for the rest...

"Do you have anything to say as well?" shifting to the massive frame of a man, Melenai tried to keep her expression neutral. "Half giant, I can smell it. Served two idiots for who knows how long, have you come to be the next thorn on my side?"

"No," smirking, the half-giant flashed a toothy grin while lifting his morningstar’s handle. "You’ll be like a bug when I smash my goddess’s gift against that puny body of yours."

A guttural laugh escaped the human giant’s lips, a ripple of which could be felt reverberating through the ground. Halfway as tall as the kingdom’s walls with not one but two morningstars in his hands, the hairy bear of a man with arms thicker than most columns in the giant’s mansion, could easily tear through Eclanor all by himself. But in his demeanor, Melenai noticed a flair of that giant’s intelligence and insight. An enemy he may have been, but the man appeared to be the most sane of the four chosen.

Especially, when the moment her gaze shifted to the last man, all she heard from that ratty-looking human with burnt skin and barely any clothes on him was grunting and barking, almost as if he were no man but rather an animal. The people behind seemed no different, but they were far from simple-minded enough to be fooled by simple tactics, as in their hands they all held smokepowder bombs, flaming bottles, and vats of oil and arson material.

Some amongst them were burning from their very own flaming apparitions, but even so, none of them seemed to mind. Their only focus? To kill in the name of their goddess, Wolcenya–the mother of arms and the ruler of their four clans.

’This might take a while.’ Melenai thought, her attention shifting from preventing to buying as much time as possible for help to come. After all, looking back at those behind her, she saw little fight in her companions. Even if they tried, the only thing their group could manage was to be a stepping stone for the half-giant for half a second at most.

"Well then," closing her eyes, Melenai prayed to Athenia for the first time with a favor. Smiling at her enemy at the same time, she added. "Which one of you will gain your goddess’s favor by killing us? I would assume one of you has worked the most to get here and will do so during the slaughter. So, isn’t it wise to clear it up amongst yourself, who exactly deserves the mighty goddess Wolcenya’s praise?"

’Athenia, we built a church for you in Elcanor, so stop their goddess’s whisper in their ears while I distract them!’ And with that prayer to the goddess of life, Melenai began her desperate attempts to buy some time. The reinforcements will come, but when exactly? Will Eclanor still stand when they arrive? Only time could tell.