Chapter 57: Shamanic Figure
Ethan was silent, contemplating whether to listen to the pretty witch or the middle-aged Elf commander. On one hand, he definitely didn't want to be ambushed by another Orc. One encounter was enough to induce nightmares.
Ghost hands saved the boy once, but it wasn't an invincible ability. He had jelly skin, a passive ability that made the skin impenetrable to any weapon's first attack. However, how would it fare against a heavy weapon swung with an Orc's strength?
An ax's blow may not cut his skin, but it will definitely crush his body. Also, what about the second, third, and subsequent attacks? Ethan's simple skills weren't ready for the brutal outside world yet.
On the other hand, if the Cromwell group didn't cross the ridge before sunset, they would be stranded on their side till morning.
A night's delay was likely to endanger the rescue operation. Ethan couldn't imagine in his worst dreams that Velma and Goldie would be captured and sexually abused by Orcs. The women solely belonged to him.
"You don't have to listen to the homeless witch," Greta urged the boy. "I have twenty years of experience as a soldier. I can assure you there's nothing to be worried about as far as ambushes go. We cross this ridge safely all the time."
"The Orc we encountered was a straggler that caught us by surprise. Now, our Elven soldiers and human warriors are alert, and won't let such a mistake happen again."
"We can proceed without caution, or we'll miss the sunlight. Loner Orcs are too dumb to organize themselves into a predetermined attack, anyway."
"And Elves are dumber! Their military advice shouldn't be taken seriously!" Beatrix muttered under her breath, but it was intentionally loud enough for everyone else to hear.
"What did you say, you little tramp?!" Greta snarled. "I'll mince your tiny body into pieces! You grimoire humping witch!"
Beatrix clenched her jaw, and her right hand glowed dimly. "Why don't you go ahead and even touch me, you fatass!? Let's see who ends up in pieces!"
"Enough!" the Cromwell heir hollered at the two, startling them from their combative moods. "There will be no infighting on my watch!"
The Elf Commander was clearly offended and was adamant about nailing the witch. "The bloody midget needs a—" she began.
"The old hag can go to h—" Beatrix started to counter.
"I have arrived at a decision about the ridge!" Ethan declared, cutting them short. Both females shut their mouths and pivoted in his direction. Athena and the other guards became silent as well.
"We have come far, and time is of the essence," the Cromwell heir declared. "We can't be stranded on this side of the ridge for the night. There is no vegetation cover or even a proper site for a camp. It would be a poor decision."
Greta smirked triumphantly, realizing Ethan had favored her advice. She sneered at Beatrix's defeated face. However, the Elf's celebration was short-lived because the boy wasn't done speaking.
"But I can't risk falling into an ambush as well."
"What are you saying, Young Count?" Greta asked in confusion. "Are we moving forward immediately or sending out reconnaissance first?"
Ethan ignored her question and made eye contact with the tall blonde warrior on the horse next to him. "Athena… I give you five minutes to ride along the ridge and ensure it's safe. If you don't return within the given period, our group will cross over immediately."
Greta's face looked sullen all of a sudden, but she didn't oppose the idea. Barely fifteen minutes were left before the sun went under the horizon, bringing dusk to the skies. Reconnaissance across the three-hundred-foot-long ridge in five minutes was impossible.
Beatrix seemed to agree with the Elf Commander's thoughts for the first time. "Count Cromwell… That much time isn't enough for the task."
Ethan didn't even bother to respond to the witch's weak protest. He turned to Athena with a look of authority. "Make it quick."
The blonde warrior nodded, covered her face with the visor, and separated from the group. She galloped as fast as she could on her horse, reaching the ridge in a minute.
The sunlight gradually dimmed, and all eyes focused on Athena's actions. She lightly stepped onto the narrow, rocky path that connected Fondel County with the Southern Hills.
The connecting ridge was broad enough for four horses to gallop side by side. If the rider went over either edge, he would fall to his death into a bottomless gorge.
Athena let her steed take a few careful steps before halting a few yards away. She stared at the rocks beneath her with intrigue.
"What the hell is she doing?" Greta asked in confusion. "Has the woman forgotten she has only five minutes to complete the task? Did she give up already? I knew it! You young stragglers are useless and brainless!"
Beatrix shook her head lightly. "She's found something…"
"What? Shiny rocks? Frogs? A sweet flower? What is more important than fulfilling the Young Count's orders?"
The Elf Commander didn't have to wait longer to get an answer. Athena reined her horse quickly so that it raised its forelegs and stamped on the ridge.
Crumble! From the other end, the ridge shook violently, and to everyone's shock, it began collapsing! It was as if the path was a makeshift one built with a series of disjointed rocks.
Athena spun her horse sharply and galloped back the way she came. Moments after she jumped across to safe land, the entire ridge fell into the gorge below.
The female warrior returned to the shocked group of elves and humans. "It was a setup!" she explained. "If all of us had gotten over the ridge, it would have collapsed, sending us to our deaths!"
"I told you it was an ambush!" Beatrix exclaimed, glad she was finally vindicated. Greta looked defeated but equally concerned. If the enemy was intelligent and resourceful enough to fall a critical hill path, what else were they capable of?
Hooooo! A distinct sound echoed across the valley. "What is that?" Greta murmured in apprehension. "A war-horn?"
Everyone turned back to see a singular hunched-over figure a few hundred feet uphill from their position. He was carrying a large horn made of some animal tusk. His appearance was uncommon, with a tattered brown cloak and a garland of skulls.
"What the hell is that?" Ethan asked. "It looks nothing like an Orc."
The figure wasn't as tall as an Orc and had a rather skeletal appearance. But his skin and degenerated muscles indicated the former.
"Oh, it's an Orc, definitely," Athena replied, reaching behind for her sword. "I've seen one of these before. Disgusting, sniveling creatures, the most dangerous of its kind. It's an—"
"Orc shaman!" Greta completed her sentence. "Everyone get ready for battle! Form an arc in front of the Young Count!"
As the other Elves and humans did as commanded, Ethan watched the newfound creature with intrigue. Why was everyone so worried about him? He looked harmless compared to the last Orc they encountered.
"What is so scary about an Orc Shaman?" the boy asked Beatrix curiously. "Can't we just kill it and move on?"
The latter had been silent all along, instead mentally preparing her spells. "He might look weaker than a regular Orc but is exponentially more dangerous. An Orc Shaman is as intelligent as a human and reportedly more cunning."
"Really?"
"Moreover, he can use runes and practice other forms of magic. But the fact that makes him most dangerous is that—"
"Other Orcs rally around him…" Greta completed the thought. A dozen other gnarled figures appeared behind the shaman as if on cue. Their heights varied from seven to eight feet, and they blocked out the setting sun together.
The Orcs had war axes on their backs and were carrying huge rocks in their free, over-muscled arms. At this point, the shaman blew his war-horn again.
"Witch…" Greta mouthed reluctantly. "Our differences aside, can I depend on you to deal with the rocks?"
"I will try," Beatrix replied. "Everything depends on how heavy they are and how much momentum they gather rolling down."
"I don't know what you just said, but give it your best shot!"
"Alright, Commander!"
Ethan stayed silent behind the protective arc of Elves and humans. He had his active skill window opened. The boy's only defense was ghost hands, and he was increasingly less confident about their efficacy. Was it a wrong decision to walk into the wild?
The Elf soldiers remained the vanguard since they were generally more robust and larger. They were at least six feet tall and wore heavier and bulkier armor. The humans varied between five and a half feet to six based on their age.
Everything escalated faster than expected. The Orcs dropped their rocks, which bounced downhill like juggernauts. The Cromwell group was stuck between a bottomless gorge behind them and a volley of massive rolling rocks in the front.
Beatrix jumped off Ethan's horse and joined the Elves. She muttered a few words in Witchspeak and waved her hands around.
Crash! Bam! A few falling rocks collided with an invisible barrier and rolled to the side. The others reached the witch but burst into flower petals. She let her arms lower, gasping for breath.
The Cromwell team celebrated with whoops and cheers. The first wave of Orc attack had been neutralized quite easily.
At this point, the sun went under the horizon, and darkness fell. "Oh, shit…" a general murmur spread in the Cromwell team.
Ethan had never come out in the wild, so the sudden plunge into blackness was terrifying. A crowd of Orcs was on the attack, and his protection team was blinded!
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone