Return of the Woodcutter

Quizzical gazes fixed on the illusion. Challengers relaxed a bit, but it was too soon to do so. Despite being realistic, some lucky hobgoblins fell through the illusion while trying to find another entrance point, because… well, gravity. 

But there were undeniably less than before. 

Aito could have used his other realistic illusion to plug another window but saved it for a more precarious situation. If the worst were to happen, he thought about using it to escape or keep his companions safe.

Humans' lives were precious, but his and his comrades' lives meant more to him than strangers'.

Thirty minutes later, the flow of the battle stabilized and seemed to slightly lean in challengers' favor.

Dozens of humans had died by now, most of them being newcomers. Veterans were tough to deal with. 

Grey corpses covered the floors, starting to pile up. Driven more by need than anything else, challengers took turns throwing them to the side to clear the area, while others covered for them. 

As for Aito, he spent those thirty minutes switching from one side of the battle to another, plugging holes in defenses that he saw. 

His mere presence stabilized every area that showed weaknesses. Where he went, a trail of hobs corpses followed. 

On the chandelier near the main entrance, Sheyla shot arrow after arrow. Having collected a lot of them from the fourth and fifth floor, she had ammunitions to spare, plus, she never wasted them—almost never. 

"Filthy creatures," she cursed, seeing a hobgoblin looking at her with obvious lewd interest, only to die with an arrow in between the eyes. 

Hearing loud unusual sounds, she turned her attention to the main street facing the cathedral's double doors. At first, Sheyla thought it was the hobs that have been constantly attacking the entrance with their crude weapons—despite being damaged, it thankfully still held firm. 

However, activating her enhanced vision, she saw five vehicles pulled by ten hobs each driving straight for the cathedral.

Outside, the hobs had stopped banging at the doors, clearing a path for the carriages. Zooming in, she saw that those were reinforced with metal armors that seemed to have been stolen from dead challengers. Clicking sounds originating from them was noisy enough to be heard in the cathedral. However, too busy to notice, nobody apart from her paid attention to those.

Some corpses even decorated them, giving the carriages a savage look. 

With the doors currently damaged, those armored carriages might just get through them. If that were to happen, the consequences would be disastrous. 

Warning Aito would do no good, he was already busy dealing with hobs and, amidst all this mess, he might not hear her. Other challengers were already dealing with their fair share of bloody trouble. No mages were agile enough to get on chandeliers and other archers... well she didn't know about their capabilities.

The heaviness of the task weighed down her stiff shoulders. She had assassinated many people but never had she taken part in such a battle. 

Moreover, she fought for a different reason this time. Not to take human lives, but to save them. Sheyla smiled at the irony of it. Previously, if someone had told her she would be fighting for such a cause, she'd have laughed at the person's face. 

Now… though, it didn't seem so bad. 

'Double shit,' she cursed internally, feeling the pressure of over two hundred lives. She then realized she imitated one of Aito's curses. That thought somehow calmed her mind ever so slightly as a small smile drew on her face, 'So he is starting to grow on me, hum?' 

She breathed in, took out three frost arrows, breathed out, and infused mana into her morpho bow, which instantly switched from short mode to long mode, gaining power. 

Her arm, back and shoulder muscles contracted under the heavy requirements it took to pull the bowstring, yet she did not tremble. 

—Active Skill: Hawk Eye—

'Targets are two hundred meters away. One-shot for each wheel. The distance doesn't allow for enough penetrative power.' 

—Active Skill: Piercing Shot— 

—Active Skill: Durability—

All three arrows nocked to her bowstring shone yellow, their tips were enveloped with a dense shining coat. 

Having calculated the trajectory, while taking all variables into account, steady and firm, she released her bowstring. 

Three arrows flew straight out a window, piercing the air before lodging right into their respective targets, freezing three front wheels of three carriages. 

The vehicles deviated from their path, crashing against the hob army surrounding the cathedral. 

A terrifying roar echoed from a building. On a rooftop, the hob ninja appeared unpleased. It roared once against in a language unknown to men. At that moment, some hobs started to run alongside the two remaining carriages. 

Two vehicles were still incoming. Sheyla nocked her last frost arrow and released it. It traveled through the air and flew straight for its target. Bright and shiny, it was particularly visible during nighttime, thus revealing its trajectory clearly. 

Two hobs jumped, intercepting the arrow, transforming into an ice cube upon impact. However, the carriage remained intact. 

'Cunning creatures…,' she thought. 

There were still less than one hundred meters before the armored carriages reached the cathedral. 

Knowing she'd possibly waste magic arrows, though there were fewer chances of stopping the carriages, she used normal ones to shoot at her targets. But each time, a hob or two intercepted the arrow. 

'Fuck.' 

She tried her best. Shooting one arrow after another. 

'Fuck!' 

But ultimately…

'FUCK!' 

Failed to stop them. 

Hobgoblins released their ropes at the last moment, jumping out of the first carriage trajectory to avoid being crushed. 

The armored vehicle crashed against the door, its momentum was such it cracked the entrance. Thanks to the gods' statues holding the double doors—all hail the gods—it stood firm. The carriage was reduced to mere rubbles. 

However, the second one followed suit, rushing through the previous vehicle's debris, ramming into the cracked entrance, obliterating it. 

BOOM!

A loud noise eclipsed for a moment that of the battle happening inside. Alerted by it, Aito beheaded a filthy hobgoblin and turned towards the main entrance, retreating behind the defensive line to safely examine what was happening. 

There, a large hole dug by an armored carriage breached the double doors. The statues still held firm, but part of the door's frame was broken. 

Horrified, he dashed towards the main entrance, shouting orders on his way. 

"DEFEND THE MAIN ENTRANCE!!"

Challengers who weren't busy dealing with hobs turned towards the voice, then their gazes traced Aito's trajectory, only to realize one of the worst possible scenarios just happened. 

Despair seized their heart.

Morale plummeted. 

Hobs started to flood the cathedral, or so they thought it'd happen. One man hadn't given up hope yet. 

With no one reacting in time to prevent too many hobs from flooding in, Aito took out the suicidal horn, breathed in, and blew as strong as he could. Seemingly attracted by the sounds, all hobs stared at him with murderous gazes. 

Halting their movements to look at a more enticing prey, the invaders halted. Silence loomed over the cathedral for a second, until hobs furiously roared, madly running for Aito's throat. 

Standing tall against the tide coming through the breach, the black challenger lengthened his morpho ax. His murderous executioner blade, in a half-crescent moon shape, killed hobs two by two. 

"WAAAAH!" 

He alone seemed to defy the horde. His powerful swings slashing hobs after hobs.

There at that moment, challengers all around the hall that still doubted him couldn't help but admit that he truly was who he said he was. 

The Black Challenger.