Chapter 11: End the battle decisively and realistically
Even though she knew her magical energy was running low, Moluna still displayed no signs of exhaustion. Because she deeply understood that in the presence of foes, revealing any vulnerability was absolutely unacceptable.
A feeble stance wouldn’t elicit sympathy. It would only make others act aggressively, akin to sharks sensing blood. Moluna had already experienced such a situation and wouldn’t repeat the same mistake. Moreover, the Phylin tribe had paid a hefty price to protect her. If she appeared weak in front of these enemies, it would dishonour the bravery of the Phylin tribe.
Moluna adjusted her hair and emotionlessly stated, “Do you think you can kill me?”
Even the wide brim of her hat couldn’t conceal the indifference in her eyes. Upon hearing Moluna’s words, the bandit leader wiped the water from the corner of his mouth and chuckled, “I’ll finish you off shortly.”
If he could be frightened by a young girl, he wouldn’t be fit to lead.
In his view, Moluna’s gaze lacked a certain intensity because there was no intent to kill. Moreover, he didn’t believe he was in a disadvantaged position. His injuries weren’t severe, and the Phylin tribe had essentially lost their combat capabilities. He glanced at his surroundings. Most of his underlings were dead, and anger surged within him. He wasn’t lamenting his underlings’ loss but rather the futile effort he had put in.
Gathering so many underlings had been difficult, and now, with the Phylin tribe and the witch wiping them out, a comeback seemed impossible.
Carrying his anger, the bandit leader directed his axe towards Moluna, now without the Phylin tribe’s protection. Setting aside the raging magical power, Moluna was a fragile girl with even less resistance to attacks than the Phylin tribe. She would undoubtedly meet her end if the angry axe truly struck Moluna.
“Get away from her!” Loloan kicked aside, got up and aimed a kick at the bandit leader.
The bandit leader, whose attention was on Moluna, was caught off guard and almost stumbled. He grabbed Loloan’s head and lifted him, but Loloan’s small stature meant his feet couldn’t touch the ground. Loloan could only swing his short legs, unable to escape the bandit leader’s grip.
“Let him go,” Moluna said coldly, staring at the bandit leader.
The bandit leader grinned, “Let go? I’m planning to kill him anyway.”
“After all, he’s just a reserve for the beasts. It doesn’t matter if he dies, right?” He began to exert force, preparing to crush Loloan’s head as if it were a watermelon.
The bandit leader found himself unable to breathe— a crystal-clear water sphere had enveloped his head.
He released Loloan and reached into the water sphere, attempting to break it. Standing several meters away, Moluna stubbornly used her last bit of magical power to maintain the water sphere’s stability. Maintaining a simple water sphere like this was more draining than the barrage of water cannons.
After the bandit leader opened his mouth, bubbles continuously rolled inside the water sphere. Growing anxious, he abandoned his weapon and gestured desperately to break free from the water sphere. But he forgot a crucial detail—his stamina was nearly depleted.
Under normal circumstances, he could have easily shattered the water sphere even with brute force. However, at the end of his strength, this small water sphere was enough to overwhelm him completely.
The bandit leader’s expression gradually became agonised, and his movements, initially intense, soon weakened. Moluna internally observed this process with unwavering calm, maintaining control over the water sphere.
Even though her magical power was running low, she persisted, ensuring the bandit leader showed no signs of movement before stopping the magic.
She had to conclusively end the battle on this side. Ron gave up stealth, and the Phylin tribe unleashed themselves.
Under Ron’s leadership, they fought their way to the cave entrance. The Phylin tribe’s combat strength wasn’t much. Ron was the primary force. However, with everything going smoothly, they began to question the purpose of their earlier stealth.
“We’re here!” The Phylin tribe members shouted when they reached the cave entrance.
Near the entrance, wet patches covered the ground, and some bandits lay on the ground. There were no enemies still standing.
“Mr. Ron! There’s no one here! Well, no living ones!” The Phylin tribe member asked Ron, “What should we do?”
“Don’t worry, take it easy,” Ron said, catching his breath.
He couldn’t run too fast holding the furnace ashes.
The Phylin tribe ran like rabbits, and Ron couldn’t catch up.
Doran behind Ron was almost foaming at the mouth, ‘Oh… Oh… gentlemen, don’t run so fast… I can’t keep up with you…
“Only these people?” Ron checked the bandits on the ground.
He crouched down, checking their breath like in a TV drama. “They’re really all dead?”
All the bandits were soaked as if sprayed by Moluna’s water cannons. But what about Moluna and the other Phylin tribe members? What about the bandit leader?
“Could something have happened?” Ron was worried about Moluna.
“Mr. Ron! This is our writing!” A Phylin tribe member raised their hand, showing a wooden board with a Phylin tribe script.
“Your writing?” Ron was momentarily confused.
“We Phylin tribe have our own writing!” Several Phylin tribe members proudly explained.
“So, what does it say here?” Ron crouched down but couldn’t understand the characters.
He felt he didn’t need the system for translation with so many Phylin tribe members around.
“Let’s have a look.” The Phylin tribe member who found the writing began to read, “‘We’ve temporarily reached a relatively safe place,” ‘The bandit leader is quite formidable,” and ‘But Miss Moluna is also very powerful.'”
