They set up a few hundred feet away from the kobold camp's clearing after finding where the grass and dirt had been trampled down into a fairly obvious path that they hid around.

  Leon and Rayne both stooped behind some bushes near the path, dirt and herbs plastered onto them to hide their scents. Syra, meanwhile, had hidden in some trees further down the trail and would flank the kobolds during the ambush. She also served as the scout to inform them when the monsters began approaching.

  They were forced to wait close to an hour before a slightly off-key bird call alerted them to crouch fully and prepare to spring the attack. Leon’s first view of the kobolds revealed two of the lesser ones carrying a deer carcass, all the better to conceal the trio's smell.

  The kobolds were bigger than those in initiation. The ones from back then had been culled to make them appropriate targets for unranked adventurers; these ones were well fed and wild. Still weak, and still a similar red-orange hue, but much closer to being a bronze-tier monster than the ones faced all those months back.

  The notable exception was the one leading the pack. It towered over its compatriots and seemed around a head taller than even Leon. Its muscles underneath glistening white scales were large and obvious, little doubt a single shear from its sharp claws could rend even steel apart.

  That was a proper silver-tier monster, if of the lower tiers. Physically, it would be stronger than the hobgoblin almost two weeks back. It lacked access to skills, though, and with its higher intelligence being more limited, they were about par.

  As the group of six approached their position, Leon awaited Rayne’s arrow to signal their attack. It was not until the white kobold was as close to them as possible did an arrow whistle out of the bush for its head. The monster's reaction was impressive, but not quick enough to totally dodge the shot, the arrow impaling itself into its arm as it let out a furious screech.

  Leon had already jumped out of his bush, using the distraction of the kobolds facing the wrong way to immediately cut one in half and open another’s stomach.

  Rather than push against the other three small kobolds, Leon charged at the white one as it moved towards where Rayne hid. An overhead slash at the monster was dodged as he positioned himself between the white kobold and Rayne’s hiding place.

  The remaining kobolds reacted quickly and began attacking him. Dodging the slices from the little ones, he caught the incoming claw of the white kobold on his sword.

  It was a heavy blow, and the impact rattled his blade, forcing him to step back just to remain upright, but he held it firm. One of the weaker kobolds lunged at him while he was being kept busy, but they were swiftly met with an arrow in the skull.

  As the other white claw whistled towards him, Leon threw his weight forward and pushed the white kobold off balance, their second claw whistling harmlessly through the air. Wasting no time, he stepped forward, slashing upwards at the flailing white kobold’s uninjured arm.

  Blood splattered against the path as the kobold grasped the bloody stump its arm used to occupy. Turning to his side, Leon parried one of the last kobolds trying to swipe at his face, before he could counterattack, a blur appeared behind them, and twin blades stabbed the monster into the ground. Behind it, he could spot the last one already lying dead by its friend, similar stab wounds decorating its body.

  Naturally, he had heard that Syra had learned the Dash skill, that being the reason for her short leave of absence. It was an impressive skill to witness; she had moved fast enough that Leon doubted he could easily block an attack in time.

  Turning back to his foe, he heard Rayne emerge from the bushes behind him. The white kobold was sprawled across the ground, one arm gone and the other weakly clutching the wound. The arrow in its remaining arm’s shoulder was certainly an unwelcome hindrance to applying any pressure to properly stimy the bleed.

  The sight left an unpleasant taste in Leon’s mouth. An ambush was all well and good; there was nothing inherently dishonorable about a sneak attack against an enemy. To watch his foe writhe painfully on the ground was, however. To prolong its suffering simply so its agony may lure out its comrades, it was sickening.

  Closing his eyes, Leon gave a small prayer for the kobold. Whether the human gods catered to monsters was beyond him, the prayer was mostly for his conscience anyhow. Opening his eyes again, he barked out to his companions.

  “Let’s get this over with quickly.”

  Syra was collecting proof of their kills while Rayne was warily examining the living kobold.

  He looked up at the sudden order. “Right. You grab its upper body, and Syra can take the legs.”

  Syra raised an eyebrow. “And what’ll you be doing?” she asked.

  Rayne rolled his eyes. “C’mon, you know I’m the weakest.”

  Syra glanced from Rayne to the kobold’s feet. The claws down there were less sharp, but still enough to cut off a hand easily enough.

  “I’ll find a place to set up, you two can bring it over.” Quickly, she moved on ahead, not even giving Rayne a moment to argue.

  The man simply groaned and crouched at the kobold’s legs while Leon moved around to its head. It glared up at him hatefully, a feeling undoubtedly exacerbated by the rope tied around its legs. Grabbing its wounded arm, Leon pinned it against its back, an experience only made more difficult by the constant struggle the kobold put up. Wrapping his other arm around the remains of the kobold’s other shoulder, he and Rayne lifted the monster up and slowly carried it towards the encampment.

  It was a long trek towards the camp, the white kobold struggling the entire way hardly helping. They had to pause and put the monster down more than once so that Rayne could adjust the rope tying together its legs. Once Syra deemed them close enough to the camp, she departed to find a suitable torture location.

  Rayne and he did not talk during the wait, the tense silence only occasionally broken as the kobold thrashed about and gnashed its teeth at the duo. When Syra returned, they promptly picked the kobold back up and brought it to the place she had found.

  The spot was just a stump with some well-positioned shrubbery in between them and the gate. Syra had cut out some small pockets of the bushes to provide a clear view of the camp. Looking through let Leon see a kobold peeking over the palisade, the walls were a solid eight or so feet and impressively constructed. Mud and clay caked between each wooden spike, a small dirt embankment before the wall, obviously, they had some sort of balcony to stand on to look over it as well. It must have taken the relatively small group months of effort to construct.

  That or they took it over from a more numerous but weaker inhabitant. Twenty to thirty goblins could build the camp in a month, but would stand little chance against fifteen kobolds with two silver-tier kobolds assisting. Returning his attention to the others, he saw Rayne tying the kobold against a nearby tree. There was some small vindication in the fact that neither Syra nor Rayne seemed too thrilled with their upcoming actions, but it did little to calm the nausea in his stomach.

  “I shall move over to the other side of the gate. Once they come to investigate, I shall ambush them.”

  Neither Syra or Rayne debated Leon’s idea. Both knew that Syra would be better for such a role, but both also knew it was not why he was leaving.

  Taking his leave, he left them to their plan. Ensuring he skirted far enough around so that he was not spotted by the camp, Leon came to a stop around fifty feet from where Rayne and Syra were. Once the kobolds emerged from their camp and investigated the soon-to-be-coming screams, he would be able to flank them.

  It was a scant few minutes before the screeches began, an awful sound made only worse by the fact that it did not end. He could do little else but cringe and watch the gate.

  From the activity of the kobolds on the wall, it was evident that they could hear what was happening. One sentry was joined by a second and then a third, all looking in the direction of the screaming.

  They did not make a move to sally out, however. Minutes passed and all they did was continue to gaze in the direction of the silver-tier kobold slowly and agonizingly being killed. Finally, the sounds came to an end, whether because his teammates realized the futility or because the kobold died, he did not truly wish to know.

  Standing up, he prepared to return to his teammates and make a new plan, but he was stopped by screams piercing the air again. These new screams were not those of a kobold, however. They were human, and they were coming from the kobolds’ camp.

  Leon was moving before sense caught up with him. This was the problem with Rayne’s plans. They had been fools to assume all the adventurers were dead; many monsters enjoyed keeping prey alive before feasting on them. Having found one dead body, they had merely extrapolated the outcome to the rest. It was a careless and reckless assumption, and it meant any further deaths were caused by their heedless caution.

  Running at the wall with full force, he cleared half the field in seconds, the kobolds not noticing him with their attention firmly on where Rayne and Syra hid. Around thirty feet away one finally noticed him; hurriedly, it called out, and the kobolds on the wall all turned their attention to him.

  A slinged stone dented his chest plate as another bashed into his knee. The pain was incredible, but he did not stop, could not stop.

  Rayne’s plan had failed, and Leon would be damned if they thought he would merely regroup and plan again. Rayne was not the only one who could accomplish a mission, he was not the only one who could decide their efforts. Action was always more productive than words, and Leon was a man of action. The wall loomed ahead of him, and as he prepared to barge through it, he concentrated on bringing his mana to the fore.

  A slung rock slammed into his head, and Leon stumbled to the side, barely staying conscious through the impact. His mana scattered, and his vision blurred, but he pushed forward. To stop now would be to invite an even easier target. The wall must be directly before him, of that he was sure even if he could not see it.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Counting his steps, Leon guessed his position and again pushed all the mana he could into the Strong Arm skill. With a mighty roar, he slashed at the wooden palisade with every bit of strength available. The impact was a deafening explosion of splinters and earth as three of the palisade pillars shattered completely under the force, and a further two on each side were almost torn from the ground.

  Eyesight slowly returning, he looked through the hole he had wrenched in the walls. His eyesight was still blurry, and his right eye was obscured by blood falling down his forehead, but he still caught sight of the second silver-tier kobold, white like its dead comrade. It was missing a claw, the remaining claw currently was jammed into the leg of one of the missing adventurers.

  In a single swift movement, the kobold tore its claw free from the leg and cut the adventurer's throat. That death was on them, on him.

  Forcing himself past the pain in his head, Leon rushed forward to engage the kobolds. A quick scan of the camp revealed that there were ten kobolds around the camp, five positioned on the walls with a further five of them around the now-dead adventurer. As he rushed in, one of the kobolds on the wall fell towards the ground, an arrow embedded in its skull.

  His actions might have been brash after hearing the adventurer be tortured, that much he could admit. There had been no other choice, however. Sending a silent thanks to Rayne, Leon continued to charge forward, confident that his teammates would come to support him.

  Fighting against a silver-tier kobold plus four smaller ones while being cognizant of those on the walls would be taxing to say the least, but he would win. Finally coming within range of the kobolds, he fired off another powerful slash with his Strong Arm skill. The kobolds had been clever enough to position themselves a good distance away from each other, and none of them had too much difficulty dodging, but that was fine. The purpose of his swing had been to pick up the dry dirt and give him a small screen of cover from those on the walls.

  Pushing forward, he moved towards where the white kobold had been, a shadow in the dust cloud had him instantly throwing his sword up to block the claws that would rend him in two. The white kobold growled at him as it pushed on his blade, but Leon was not in the mood for honorable combat, however.

  Chivalry was a means of maintaining order and mercy in battle; the kobolds had lost that privilege once they had murdered a prisoner. His party had also surrendered such privileges with their actions. There was no honor to be found in this battlefield. It took the focus of but a second to activate his Flame Blade, scorching the kobold’s claw and forcing it to jump back.

  Lunging forward, the kobold barely danced out of the way of his stab, its eyes glinting with murderous intent. It was a look that likely mirrored his own expression quite well at the moment.

  The sound of footsteps on his left had him quickly swinging and slicing through another kobold. Stepping into the now-dead one's position, he avoided the claw of the white kobold attacking his back. The small dust storm gave him necessary cover against the rangers on the wall, but it also helped compensate for his poor vision, his right eye was almost completely blind from the blood while his left was still suffering from blurriness.

  Throwing his sword up, he parried the follow-up attack he had expected from the white kobold. Footsteps converging on his flank told him of two more kobolds trying to surround him. Ducking low, he dodged the blurry claw of the white kobold swinging for his head; he slashed at its feet and forced it to jump back. Allowing the momentum of his slash to carry him in a circle, he brought up fresh dirt for his screen and cut through another kobold while forcing the other one to disengage and dodge back.

  Quickly, he turned and stabbed at his back, expecting the white kobold to have re-engaged him. With his sword catching nothing but air, Leon hurriedly tried to jump backwards, narrowly avoiding the dismemberment of his right arm as white claws slashed down at him. As it were, the steel bracers were still ripped off of his forearms.

  It’s caught on to my disadvantage. Choosing not to dwell on his opponent’s cunningness, Leon instead brought up a mental image of the battle as it lay. The white kobold was in front of him while one of the smaller ones was somewhere on his left; one was dead on his right while the other was dead further ahead on his left. One was still unaccounted for, and the sentries were essentially non-factors with the dust cloud still up. With the white kobold getting a hold of his weakness and style, the fight was gradually getting worse, which meant it was time for a change in tactics.

  He could hear two sets of feet charging towards him; from the weight of them, he could tell one was the white kobold. Rather than wait for them, Leon met their charge head-on, he threw his sword at the heavier-sounding one and lunged for the lighter one. While the white kobold dodged to the side, Leon tackled the smaller one, and its claws dug deep into Leon’s undefended forearm as he grasped at its neck. It was trivial to crush its windpipe and drop the body. Leon turned back to the silver-tier monster.

  By now, the dust screen had begun to die down and revealed the rest of the battlefield. A black blob, which Leon assumed to be Syra, was running across the wall, dodging sling shots and killing sentries. A less distinct blob, which he assumed was Rayne, had meanwhile set up in the hole Leon had initially made, and three more kobolds littered the ground.

  Content to give the white kobold his full attention, Leon stared it down as best he could. It was clear that the silver-tier monster had also gotten a good look of the battlefield and was quickly realizing that it was a losing fight. With the only quick exit guarded by Rayne, however, it had little option but to rush through Leon.

  It let loose a primal screech in a pathetic attempt to keep his attention off the other kobold Leon could vaguely make out hiding in the dust ready to pounce. He adjusted his stance and prepared for the kobolds to spring their trap. As the white kobold lunged at him, the one in waiting sprung its trap and jumped towards him.

  Dodging back, Leon quickly snatched the smaller kobold out of midair and slammed it into its companion. Releasing the monster into the white kobold, Leon pounced on both of them and brought them to the ground. Grabbing the head of the smaller kobold, he slammed it into the white kobold’s face repeatedly. The single claw of the white one raked into Leon’s back, it screeched through his armor and cut against his spine.

  Leon kept smashing despite the pain. He smashed their heads together until the claw in his back finally flopped to the ground.

  The kobolds underneath him were a bloody mess—he had won. Looking around the camp, he noted that most of the kobolds were dead, with only one or two left on the wall that Syra and Rayne were quickly dispatching.

  Leon walked over and picked up his weapon off the ground; he wiped off the blood and dirt before sheathing it. Scanning the tents, he made his way towards the largest one. As he approached, he could make out the dead adventurers piled up outside it. Walking in, he was greeted with the sight of two slumped over and bloodied bodies, the small rise and fall motion of their chest being the only confirmation that they were even alive. One of them was missing fingers on his right hand alongside toes on his right foot, the other was missing their entire left arm.

  Nine adventurers had gone missing, four from the initial mission and then five from the first rescue attempt. Three had survived until their arrival, yet they had only rescued two. Kneeling over them, Leon inspected their injuries and applied proper tourniquets over their wounds. Both were running high fevers and had sickly complexions.

  Limb regeneration was expensive, more expensive than two bronze-tiers could ever afford. More than he could afford certainly. Unless they had noble backing, their lives as adventurers were over. He only prayed they had the strength to live on as cripples.

  Stepping out of the tent, he found Rayne and Syra arguing over the body of the white kobold, and they turned to him as he approached. Immediately, Rayne was marching over and jabbing a finger into his face.

  “What the hell was that! The entire point of the plan was so that we wouldn’t need to storm the camp!”

  The man’s voice had a hard edge to it. He was pissed, and truthfully, Leon wanted to respond in kind. He was kept calm only by the somber scene he had just left, the day had been filled with too much failure and misery for him to get angry.

  “There were survivors. It was our duty to rescue them.” Despite his intentions, his voice was still tinged with anger.

  Rayne either did not notice or failed to care, and simply rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. “It’s our ‘duty’ to stay alive, rescuing them would just be a bonus. I hate to spoil the news, but dead adventurers can’t rescue other dead adventurers.”

  Syra placed a hand on Rayne’s shoulder. “Calm down, Rayne, it all worked out fine in the end. Really, the plan worked, Leon was only able to get so close because they were distracted looking for us.”

  “That’s not the point! He should have regrouped with us so that we could plan something else. Running off half-cocked like that should have seen him killed, and then we’d be just as screwed trying to finish the job.”

  The notion that his life was only worth so much as completing a mission had his rage flare. Of course, the issue was not that he might have died, the issue was that then they would be unable to complete the mission. Just as he was about to snarl at the man, he noticed the body on the ground, the adventurer the monsters had tortured and killed in retribution.

  The anger did not dissipate, but it did subside enough for him to push aside such feelings and speak again, maintaining a calm cadence if not a calm inflection. “There are two survivors in the tent. You should go tend to them.” Rather than wait and listen for a response, Leon turned to Syra. “Can you begin collecting the loot? I was going to tend to the dead.”

  Syra eyed him but waited for Rayne to leave before speaking. “Are you okay? You seem pretty banged up.”

  Leon could certainly feel what Syra saw. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was painfully aware of the gash and inevitable concussion on his head, the claw marks etched into his back, and the sprains on his arm from his guard being ripped off.

  “I’m better than they are, and I’ll stay better than they will be if we don’t leave soon.”

  Syra raised an eyebrow but did not fight him. “Alright, just don’t force me to carry you back too.” With a small smirk, she headed off to the dead kobolds, leaving Leon to collect the dead adventurers.

  Dragging the bodies to the center of the camp, he arranged them with wood from the broken wall for a small pyre. All adventurers should be prepared to die and none should expect last rites, such was the life they had chosen. Still, he had been charged with rescuing these men, the very least he could do was offer a prayer and some sort of ceremony. Six bodies was too many to bury so quickly, not with two more that would need to be brought back to Torid.

  The entire camp would need to be burned down regardless to ensure that no other monsters moved in. He scavenged the best gear the dead had available; armor and weapons would do them little good in the afterlife and was better used to save some other adventurer's life.

  Once they had brought the gear and survivors outside the walls, Leon returned to the interior. Stabbing his sword into the ground before the pyre, he closed his eyes and began a prayer.

  “Oh merciful Ayther, guide these wayward souls to their final resting place. Allow them the comfort of your charge, protect them as you protect the merchant on the road and the sailor on the sea. May their souls find peace in this, their final journey.…” Leon drew a shuddering breath before he continued. “And allow us safe travels back home so that the men left behind need not join their comrades so soon.”

  Allowing his prayers to stay in the air for a few moments longer, he opened his eyes and activated Flame Blade. Leon stuck his blade into the pyre and waited for a healthy fire to begin before deactivating the skill. He watched as the fire consumed the pyre and the bodies, as the cinders slowly began to float off into the heavens, watching until the smoke began to obscure the sky and the heat started to lick at his body.

  It was a somber atmosphere, he thought, and Leon contemplated his own failings as the fire cackled. Only once the camp had started becoming engulfed did he make his way back to the waiting survivors with Rayne and Syra, more out of a worry. Rayne seemed to have calmed down but did not speak.

  The surviving men had woken up. They were silent though, the shock of their ordeal undoubtedly still working itself through their system. It would be a long journey back to Torid, made longer with the need of carrying all the loot, gear, and the two survivors.

  Leon stooped down to carry the heavier of the two men and grab one of the heavier rucksacks they had scavenged off the adventurers and filled with gear. Syra picked up the other adventurer and a rucksack and left the last couple of sacks for Rayne.

  With that, they made their way back to Torid, the somber mood left it a quiet journey.