Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God
Chapter 226 - 187 Robbing Oneself_1

Chapter 226: Chapter 187 Robbing Oneself_1

These monsters chose to block the road in an area that wasn’t too perilous, at least not one of those dangerous stretches flanked by canyons on both sides.

If it truly were such a stretch, the merchants’ every move would have been extremely cautious, and they would definitely have dispatched scouting knights to search the surroundings over and over.

But it also wasn’t conducive to the merchants forming their wagons into a defensive circle; there was no open space nearby, and once three or five wagons were grouped together, they would be squeezed close, even making it difficult for the armed knights to maneuver.

In the current situation, the best response was to rely on the wagons, stand one’s ground, provide long-range support, and leave the rest to the armed cavalry.

The Crimson Feather’s convoy, from the commander down to the coachman and the guards, all had rich experience and made the most correct choice.

Even the ordinary coachmen and guards did just that, not to mention the armed cavalry, who quickly assembled into small squadrons around their leader, Clive, taking down their riding bows.

"Fire!"

Following the command, a volley of arrows, like rain, shot forth from the convoy.

The title of second place in the Santarin Association held by Crimson Feather wasn’t just for show.

From this convoy alone, one could glimpse their luxurious armed equipment.

In addition to the hundred armed knights, each wagon also had a coachman and a guard.

The former were equipped with single-arm crossbows, the latter with longbows.

One would shoot in a flat arc standing on the wagon bed, the other would lob shots from behind the wagon.

A normal Monster Tribe couldn’t withstand two volleys before scattering.

To be more precise, most of the Monster Tribes, upon seeing such a convoy, would simply take a detour; they were already thankful not to be attacked by them, so how could they dare to ambush them?

Crimson Feather was naturally not facing an ordinary Monster Tribe this time; their membership was not only disordered but also staggeringly numerous.

After three volleys of arrows, the monsters still swarmed as densely as before—an innumerable host showing no sign of collapse, and in the blink of an eye, they had charged close.

"First squadron, switch to spears! Charge with me!" cried Clive, who had run to the rear.

One-third of the Crimson Feather’s armed knights put away their riding bows, took up their lances, and jogged behind Clive heading back the way they had come.

Limited by the terrain, during the monsters’ attack, although the monsters seemed to be on every hill and ridge, they were actually sparse, and not too numerous. Under the combined shooting of the coachmen and guards, they struggled to raise their heads, let alone reach the front lines.

The main force of the Monster Tribe was concentrated on the trade route behind them.

Boom!

The heavily charging armed cavalry collided forcefully with the onrushing Monster Army.

One side was well-equipped with weapons, solid armor, even their horses adorned with barding.

The other side had crude weapons, scarce armor, and a disorderly formation.

The outcome was self-evident.

The Monster Army fell in droves, while the armed cavalry stood unshaken, discarding their spears, drawing their swords, and chopping away, staunchly halting the monsters’ main assault.

Behind the armed cavalry, hundreds of arrows fell, reaping the lives of the monsters.

Just as the battle situation was tipping overwhelmingly in favor of the Crimson Feather convoy, an unexpected turn of events occurred.

From within the ranks of the monsters, suddenly, more than a dozen figures, extremely agile, leaped out unarmed and lunged at the vigorously fighting armed knights, delivering heavy blows.

The armed knights, as if struck by invisible cannonballs, fell straight from their mounts.

Before those unseated armed knights could even get up, they were overwhelmed by the surging monsters, with unknown chances of survival.

Clive, who was leading the charge, nearly burst his eyes upon seeing this, roaring, "Aura strike! Martial Monks! This Monster Tribe is being manipulated, everyone be wary of the Martial Monks’ sneak attacks, second squadron, charge."

This strange use of aura strike was also a first for Clive.

Another thirty armed knights put away their riding bows and started a brisk jog, accelerating to maximum speed in the last ten meters, smashing into the fray.

Before the armed knights could arrive, the monster ranks were already in disarray.

A deafening roar erupted, and a petite figure turned into a massive beast in the blink of an eye, soaring into the sky, casting a shadow of death with its black dragon wings.

Wyverns!

This was a massive Wyvern!

The sudden change threw the charging warhorses into a frenzy; some ran wildly, some braked urgently, and some simply collapsed, throwing their riders.

The once lethal charge had become a mess, with less than one-third actually hitting the Monster Army, inflicting pitiful damage.

And soon, like the first squadron, they were caught in a bitter struggle.

Even worse, from above, that terrifying Wyvern spewed a torrent of Strong Acid Breath on the densest cluster of armed knights.

"Ah... my eyes, my eyes!"

"Ssss..."

"My neck, my neck!"

"My arm... my arm..."

While the Strong Acid Breath didn’t penetrate the knight’s armor of the armed knights, their defense wasn’t airtight.

Every uncovered spot was especially vulnerable, including eyes, neck seams, arm crevices, and other places where armor joined, all becoming targets for the drip and erosion of the acid.

Especially the warhorses underneath them, which had even worse defense, started to panic and bolt after they felt the corrosive sting of the acid, tossing their riders.

Clive, the leader of the Crimson Feather’s armed knights, felt he was losing his mind.

A living person suddenly transforming into a Wyvern was something he could attribute to a Druid’s shape-shifting.

Since when could wyverns breathe dragon breath?

Even for those transformed by druids, I’ve never heard of such a thing.

And what about the group of human martial monks from before? How did they get mixed up with the monsters?

Clive instinctively guessed that this was the work of the Santarin Association; they were hijacking their own shipment, or rather, from the beginning, hiring Crimson Feather to transport their goods was a trap.

But this trap was sprung far too early, as they had not even completed a third of their journey through the Rocklands.

Even if launched, it should have waited until they were about to enter the Goblin Margins and were nearing their destination at the Dark Castle.

This give and take.

On one side, the armed cavalry suffered heavy losses; on the other, the Monster Tribe was greatly encouraged, howling fiercely as they charged fearlessly.

The group of human martial monks emerged once more, hiding behind those burly monsters, occasionally delivering a forceful qi strike.

Even when prepared for such attacks, this type of qi-infused strike with strong impact often knocked riders off their horses with ease.

After a few rounds, another eight or nine armed cavalrymen were flung from their horses and overwhelmed by the monsters.

Most troubling of all, the wyvern that could emit strong acid breath had already flown past them and was heading towards the convoy.

The coachmen and guards didn’t possess the same firm will as the armed cavalry, who, even at a disadvantage, resisted stubbornly.

They became flustered; many instinctively changed their direction of attack to target the wyvern in the sky.

However, this was not a true Flying Dragon, but one with human intelligence and skilled in evading arrows, swooping and darting through the air. Most of the crossbow bolts didn’t even touch its shadow. The few that came close were deflected by the winds created by its flapping Black Wings, hitting the creature softly and bouncing off ineffectively—this wyvern was covered in scales similar to those of a Red Copper Dragon.

The wyvern seemed to have just discovered the strong defensive nature of its dragon scales and became bolder, swooping down when it saw an opportunity.

It bit off the head of one guard in a single bite and then pierced the coachman on the carriage with its barbed tail.

As it soared forward, flapping its dragon wings, it swept another coachman from the cargo cart.

The guard next to the cargo cart broke in fear, dropped his longbow, and screamed as he ran off into the distance.

All this did was ensure his quicker death.

The wyvern that landed merely stood for less than a second before starting to run, flapping its wings to take off again. In that brief moment, its tail stinger claimed two more lives.

The third squadron of the armed cavalry, which was the last of the reserve forces, finally turned back from the front of the caravan at this moment.

What greeted them was the wyvern’s strong acid breath.

This time, the armed cavalry were prepared. When the acid descended, those who could dodge on horseback did so, and those who couldn’t took advantage of their exquisite riding skills to take cover under their horses. However, this move turned them from cavalry to infantry.

This wave of strong acid breath only limited the damage, converting six or seven horsemen into foot soldiers and diminishing their mobility.

While the convoy’s attention was primarily on the wyvern, the Monster Tribe forces, who had previously been unable to raise their heads, now saw their chance and surged forward with howls.

When the first monster leaped into the convoy, the situation became thoroughly chaotic.

The coachmen and guards, relying on their ranged weapons and courage to resist, were obviously panicked when confronted by the vicious monsters up close.

Especially when facing larger Goblins and Orcs with clear size advantages, they often couldn’t withstand even a single exchange and either turned to flee or were violently knocked away.

Not one of them managed a desperate counter-attack.

While there were cases of ’playing possum,’ these did not occur among structured convoys of significant size, but in makeshift caravans.

If they possessed such abilities, they wouldn’t be serving as coachmen or guards but would have been selected as part of the armed cavalry.

The wyvern suddenly swooped down again, but this time its target was not the coachmen or guards but the monsters who had just attacked the convoy. It knocked them aside while roaring like a dragon, "Don’t damage the cargo carts; the goods on top are our spoils of war. Whoever dares to destroy a cart, I’ll be the first to slaughter him."

A few heedless monsters had somehow ignited torches and swung them wildly as weapons.

If left unchecked, they would soon set the entire convoy ablaze.

Realizing the situation was irretrievable, Clive bellowed in fury and with one swing of his sword decapitated a Goblin nearby, spun his mount around, and struck the saddle firmly.

Encased in a magical aura, both horse and rider were covered.

The mount involuntarily kicked its hooves, accelerating from stillness to a high-speed charge in an instant.

Everything before them was thrown aside without even waiting for the rider to approach.

Charge!

An auxiliary skill of the magic armor.

Clive had not only cleared a path for himself but also created maneuvering space for the entangled armed cavalry, enabling those with the opportunity to accelerate along this path.

It was only in motion that the cavalry could bring out their strongest combat capabilities.

By the time Clive reached Darcy’s side, nearly twenty armed cavalrymen had regrouped around him.

Seeing the situation here, Clive, who had been furious and ready to hold Darcy accountable, quieted down.

Darcy was covered in blood with three unidentified human bodies lying nearby. Judging by their dress, they were undoubtedly skilled in Stealth—thieves and assassins.

It wasn’t that Darcy didn’t want to provide magical support; he simply couldn’t.

As a spellcaster, he had been targeted early on.

By the time he dealt with the assassins here, the wyvern had already taken to the skies, naturally deterring any rash moves.

Should he cast a spell, the enemy would definitely prioritize swooping down to eliminate him.