Chapter 732: Orcs
Without Leon making a move, Lennon was finally slain by the group after a grueling battle. Anderson was fuming, needing to vent his anger—his three faces all twisted in outrage.
"Leon, if you don't give me an explanation today, I'm not letting this go! Damn it, we were almost wiped out!"
It wasn't just Anderson—Hubert felt stifled too. He had four or five wounds and had nearly been torn apart. Even so, Leon hadn't intervened. Can you blame them for feeling resentful?
Reina had a few thin cuts on her body, Elsa's clothes were torn, and Seth's hair on the left side of his head had been sliced off—if he'd reacted a moment slower, his skull would've been split open.
Even the Alchemical Golem was covered in countless sword marks. If it hadn't been so sturdily built, Lennon would have torn it to pieces long ago.
Everyone felt a bit resentful. The Dark Elf Wraiths they'd encountered before weren't that tough, so it made sense for Leon not to step in. But this time, the opponent was vicious—so fast that all they could see was a blur, and his swordsmanship was terrifyingly sharp. One careless moment and they'd be skewered.
And still, Leon didn't make a move—what the hell was he doing?
Anderson, still bristling with anger, hadn't even started to question Leon when suddenly a dense buzzing sound echoed overhead, tension crackling in the air.
The next moment, the group saw a shower of arrows raining down in front of them, each one slicing through the air with deadly intent.
The dense whistling of arrows tore through the air, buzzing around their ears like a swarm of angry bees. Yet in the blink of an eye, that buzzing morphed into a piercing, shrill howl that sliced straight through their nerves.
They'd just finished a brutal fight and barely caught their breath—now, ambush struck without warning. There was no time to react.
Suddenly, more than a dozen Frost Shields materialized in front of the group, shimmering with icy magic.
Each Frost Shield stretched over two meters tall, and together, the shields wrapped the group in a tight cocoon. A rapid clatter—ding, ding, ding—rang out as arrows struck their crystalline surfaces.
As the Frost Shields dissolved, a blanket of arrows tumbled to the ground in front of them.
Ghostly blue arrowheads glinted—clearly poisoned. The arrows themselves were forged from ancient ironwood, a rare material unique to the God-Demon Dominion. Whoever fired these meant to kill.
And to make matters worse, the ambush came right as they'd finished fighting—clearly premeditated, designed to catch them at their weakest.
Leon stepped forward, his figure appearing before the group, cold eyes fixed on the silhouettes emerging from the forest ahead.
The earth began to tremble, as if thousands of giant beasts were stampeding through the woods. Overhead, cries echoed—half eagle, half dragon—filling the sky with a savage chorus.
Looking up, the first thing they saw were dozens of Orc Wind Riders astride wyverns, swooping down with jaws agape, spewing acrid acid. The riders hurled poisoned spears from above, raining death upon the forest.