Ch 13.1 - Barville's Reinforcements

Nosmos’s expression tightened, “…Old monk. Rugbert.”

There was irritation in his voice—but also something else.

Recognition. Respect.

The old monkey beastman tilted his head slightly, peering down at him with mild curiosity.
“Young Nos?” he said lightly. “Strange… the summit at Despora hasn’t even concluded yet.”

His gaze sharpened, just a fraction.
“So, what are you doing here?”

Before Nosmos could answer, Wallus was irritated by the sudden interruption, not to mention by being treated like air.

“Now who the hell is this runt?” Wallus barked.
“Get out of my way.” He thrust a hand forward. A portal ripped open beside the old monkey.

Before anyone could react, a skeletal hand burst from the portal, fingers spread wide as it slammed toward Rugbert.

Yet—Rugbert vanished. For an instant, he was nothing more than a blur. Then he reappeared atop the metal pole beside Wallus, standing in almost the exact same relaxed posture as before, as though he had never moved at all.

He barely spared Wallus a glance.
“Hmm…” Rugbert hummed, stroking his thin mustache. “Such a foul mouth for someone so young.”

His eyes slid toward Wallus. “Perhaps a little discipline is in order.”

Snap.

Rugbert flicked his fingers. The metal poles planted throughout the battlefield began to hum.

Low at first. Then louder.
A sharp vibration raced through the metal as thin arcs of electricity crawled along their surfaces. The air grew heavy and charged. Even the ground seemed to tense beneath their feet, as though the entire battlefield were holding its breath.

Then—

BOOM!

Lightning erupted from two of the poles. A blinding arc of electricity lashed across the battlefield, connecting the two poles in an instant.

Wallus stood directly between them. “—!”

The current tore through his body.
His muscles seized violently as an enormous surge of electricity ripped through him, turning his body into a living conduit between the poles. His armor rattled furiously, bone plating sparking as blue-white electricity crawled over every inch of him.

“AAAHHH—!” The scream ripped from Wallus’s throat, raw and uncontrolled.

His vision exploded into white. His eyes rolled back as the current continued to pour through him, relentless and merciless. Every muscle in his body locked tight, his limbs trembling beneath the overwhelming force.

From the sidelines, his men finally broke. “Captain!”
Panic replaced their earlier bravado.

Several of them instinctively moved forward—Then stopped.
None dared interfere.

The discharge lasted only a few seconds. But to Wallus, it felt like an eternity.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun—the lightning stopped. The hum faded. The light vanished.

Silence returned to the battlefield. Wallus’s body went limp. He collapsed.

Rugbert exhaled softly, as though he had merely finished a minor chore.
“That,” he said calmly, “is what happens when you forget your manners when speaking to your elders.”

Aisha’s eyes widened. “That’s… Senior Monk Rugbert.”

Meriath lifted her head weakly. “The old fart is? Who was he again?”

“The former guildmaster of the Flying Staff Guild,” Aisha replied, her gaze fixed on him.

Before Meriath could respond, Chloe suddenly looked up—her expression shifting, “Miss Aisha… look!”

All three of them followed her gaze. Two figures descended from the sky.
The first—a massive bird, wings spread wide, cutting through the smoke-filled air. In its talons, it carried a figure.

A woman. Kimono-clad. It was none other than Haria.

Aisha exhaled, relief finally breaking through the tension. “…Finally.”

The great bird descended into the garden and released Haria gently onto the ground. She landed, barely steadying herself before rushing forward toward the others. Her eyes scanned them—taking in the blood, the injuries, the collapsed bodies.

“You guys really took a beating…” she said, her voice tight with worry.

“I thought you were never coming,” Aisha replied, managing a faint smile despite her exhaustion.

Haria let out a tired breath. “Do you know how hard it was to convince those old coots?” she muttered.
Then her gaze dropped to the unconscious forms. “…Are they alright?”

“For now,” Aisha answered quietly.

Behind her, the great bird shifted. Its form blurred then reshaped. Feathers folded into limbs. Wings shortened, bones realigning into a humanoid frame. In moments, a tall avian beastman stood where the bird had been—broad-shouldered, with the sharp features of a falcon.

“You girls are resilient,” he said, voice deep and measured.

Aisha inclined her head slightly.
“Old Verdant of the Uchak tribe… thank you for coming.”

Verdant nodded once.
“How could I refuse young Haria's request?” he replied. “Though it did take some time for us to arrive.”

Meriath pushed herself up slightly.

“Thank you…” she began, but Chloe caught her arm.

“Be careful,” Chloe said worriedly.

Verdant glanced over them all, then raised his voice.
“Agatha!” His gaze shifted upward. “Get down here and tend to them.”

From the rooftops above, more figures became visible—beastmen who had already taken positions, watching the battlefield.

One of them—a swan-like avian—descended gracefully. She landed beside the injured, her staff already glowing faintly.
“Leave the patching up to me,” she said with a gentle smile. “I won’t have any of you walking away with scars.”

Mana gathered at the tip of her staff, soft and radiant. Warm light spilled over the wounded.
Meriath and Chloe both felt a wave of relief as the healing began to take hold.

At last, Verdant turned back toward the battlefield.
The courtyard garden, once riddled with craters, was now littered with long metal poles. At the top of the central pole stood Rugbert, studying Nosmos with a scrutinizing gaze.

“So,” the old monk said, stroking his mustache, “I’ll ask again…”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What are you doing here, young Nos?”
His gaze swept briefly over the destruction—the shattered ground, the burning pavilion.

“Why do I find you tearing apart the home of these girls?”

Nosmos said nothing. His silence stretched.

Rugbert’s expression didn’t change.
“I see,” he murmured. “You choose silence.”

A faint crackle ran through his body. “Are you planning to fight me as well?”
The air grew heavier. “Because if you are…”

His voice dropped—calm, but carrying weight.
“I will erase you from this realm.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Nosmos’s temple.

He knew. Exactly who stood before him.

Before he could respond, Rugbert moved.

His body dissolved into a streak of electricity, vanishing into the pole beneath him.

In the next instant, the pole beside Nosmos erupted with sparks.
Rugbert reappeared instantly, standing sideways along its length, feet planted against the vertical surface as though gravity held no meaning.

He leaned slightly, eyes locked onto Nosmos.

“I’ll ask once more,” he said, voice now edged with quiet menace.

“Will you answer?” A pause. “Or hold your silence… forever,”

Nosmos’s jaw tightened. His body ached. His mana was nearly spent.
And now—another monster stood before him. Clearly, the odds were not in his favor.