The woods to the north of Auralba, where the monsters gathered, were dark and damp as towering trees expanded their branches and covered the sky with lush green canopies, greedily absorbing the warm summer sunlight.

Small groups of five to ten dark figures made their way through the forest at great speed.

They traveled by long jumps that propelled them forward, leaving small explosions of dust and debris as well as deep footprints wherever they landed. Staying nearly parallel to the ground, they pushed off the forest floor akin to jumping up an almost vertical wall, as the air resistance became so great that it was impossible doing it any other way.

Staying straight at these inhuman speeds would be akin to trying to resist a hurricane – a hopeless endeavor.

While air resistance might seem like nothing in everyday life, at the highway speeds they were traveling at, it was anything but. Even if it was just for a short few minutes of explosive speed.

Traveling so fast made it difficult to move in anything but a straight line, so whenever they had to pivot, or change course, they either had to slow down, or use an external force to change direction.

In a forest, that would be trees. They would leave deep claw mark-like cuts if pushing off with their hands, or sometimes even breaking the trunk entirely if the tree wasn't thick enough.

They traveled in silence, meaning they didn't speak or release any sounds, except for deep rhythmical breathing.

Apart from that, the noise they created while traveling was akin to an incoming storm. The rumbling of their feet on the ground, the cracking of wood, and the snapping of stones were anything but quiet.

They all had a single task, one that they dared not fail. The plan was originally good, great even, however, there are always some unforeseen changes that could flip it on its head.

For example, now.

The groups made their way forward as fast as they could, hearing the sounds of explosions and battle in the distance. They could only hope they weren't too late.

Tabbris and his group of warriors were currently in a tough spot.

In the first clash with the Orcs, their forces were instantly decimated, many brave but weak men torn apart piece by piece amid horrific pain and screams.

Arron, Tabbris, and Ron who were in the middle of the group were thus granted a short moment of safety as their subordinates were cleaved apart and butchered by the Orcs, allowing for a feeble retaliation.

Hurricane Blade burst into life with magic winds surrounding it and bore its way through two assailants before losing its power. Unfortunately, that's as far as it went, and now Tabbris remained vulnerable without his ace card.

His Mithril armor and sword simply weren't enough.

The other two weren't faring any better. Seeing the desperate situation, Arron abandoned his bow once again and took hold of his lance. However, a strong horse and a sharp lance became almost completely useless when he couldn't move.

Building up speed to use his strongest weapon thus became just a dream, slowly turning into a nightmare.

However, he didn't give up! Even with no hope to be had, he stabbed forward bravely, trampled, killed, and shouted, accepting death on top of his stead.

The Warhorse was armored and hard to kill, but when it couldn't move it simply became a plump turtle, waiting to be slaughtered.

Ron rode on his boar, fairing a tad better, but not by much. The boar, with its thick fur and sharp tusks, was much better for a close-quarters battle, and it trampled and gored many monsters under its hooves.

But it simply wasn't enough.

No matter what they did, using spells, scrolls, arrows, and swords… It all amounted to nothing. Brave young men were falling, one after the other, like dead trees in a storm.

And what of Shadow Guards, tasked with protecting them from harm from the shadows, ordered by The King himself? His personal soldiers, the most elite force in the Kingdom, trained from birth to become machines for war, where were they?!

They were nowhere to be seen…

They had failed, and the feeling was awful!

Gerald felt great!

He just came out of Madam Dasy's Funhouse feeling completely refreshed.

Life was good! With the war going on, most people were under stress and desperately trying to save money. Barely anyone had the time to visit this high-end brothel, and he had nearly the entire thing all for himself if he wanted.

He could pick any girl he liked, even multiple of them at once, and they would always be happy to be chosen. Actually, those that weren't picked felt like they lost something great and blamed themselves for not being attractive enough.

That's because he was somewhat of a regular here, and all the girls knew his name. Granted, he might not be the best looking, but what he lacked on the outside, he more than made up with his other qualities.

For example, his skills. No man here could compete with a man of culture from modern times, such as himself, and when adding his powerful magic to the mix, the results were breathtaking.

Just imagine floating weightlessly while experiencing the best feeling a human body could offer. It was truly heavenly. The girls simply melted in his hands, and so, whenever he left, they felt sad and expectantly waited for his next visit.

"Ah~" Gerald breathed in the warm summer air and stretched his limbs. The intense exercise was the best nourishment for his body and soul.

He was in a great mood, so when he heard a commotion, he didn't pay it much attention. Probably just another Orc that managed to sneak in, nothing new.

But then the noise became louder, and since he was near the main road, he soon saw what was happening. It was a group of soldiers quickly making their way towards the city center.

Gerald immediately recognized them since he saw them before. They were King's personal guards! He would never mistake them for someone else because of one distinct characteristic.

They had no Aura!

They were like him, capable of hiding their own strength, and he was wary of them because of that. The most dangerous enemy was the one you didn't know anything about, lurking in the shadows.

But then he noticed something else. The soldiers were carrying crudely-made stretchers, with heavily wounded people on them.

"Holy shit!" Gerald exclaimed and opened his eyes wide. "Is that Tabbris?! Is he dead?!"