CHAPTER 115: VILSKAPA’S POV II

Power-wise, they clearly surpass us all.

Hehehe. But with our overpowered crafts and weapons—which we’ve been secretly developing to oppose Freya when the time comes—they’d be nothing more than fodder!

Breaking news: half of our men now have fractured bones.

This is not a drill!

Chief told them to go back, said we weren’t joining any suspicious or overly friendly factions.

But then, the terrifying one with crimson eyes stepped forward.

"Uhm... listen to me," she began, "we just wanted to—"

"Shut up!!" our Chief barked.

As he should. Looks like he hasn’t gone completely soft in the head after all.

Still, the moment she started talking, her aura flickered—unstable. A telltale sign of someone activating a speech-type spell... or some manipulative enchantment.

...Or maybe it was just Magic Conversion.

Eh. Doesn’t seem likely.

Either way, that "shut up!" from our Chief really seemed to tick off the rest of them. And then? All hell broke loose.

Before long, half of us were sprawled out cold—bones twisting in angles the gods never intended.

The white-haired woman with the whip was a special kind of ruthless. I mean, what is that whip?!

She’d lash it out, snag five of our men in one swing, reel them in like sacks of potatoes, and personally deliver layers upon layers of punishing blows.

"Are you still worrying about Master Raven?" she suddenly called out to the green-haired one—who, notably, hadn’t lifted a finger since the fight started. She just stood there, looking all mopey.

"’Let’s leave tomorrow’s problems for tomorrow’ is something Master Raven always says," the white-haired one continued. "We’ll be ready. And when that day comes, we’ll give it our all..."

Then she turned and smiled gently at the green-haired girl. "But for now, let’s teach these fools a lesson—they dared call our Lord a noisy insect."

No, we didn’t!

At last, the green-haired girl perked up a little. "Sorry for all that depressing nonsense I pulled. First one to kill fifty dwarves wins!"

And just like that, it became a contest. With our lives as the prize tokens.

"I said no killing, though," the red-eyed girl muttered as she prepared herself for the next wave of us coming at her.

No... killing?

But why?

Does Sarvest want us that badly? That’s a serious problem, if it’s true.

That green-haired girl was nothing short of a wild, unhinged beast. And the sheer amount of power she wielded—it was absurd. She punched a single dwarf, but somehow, several others behind him staggered and collapsed, clutching their stomachs in pain as though they’d been struck, too.

And the white-haired woman? She was a complete menace.

Our Chief had already brought out his Gauntlet of Destruction—an actual god-tier golden artifact we’d spent a full century creating, using ultra-rare materials from both the underworld and the divine realms. A weapon of legends.

Yet this woman wasn’t just shrugging off his earth-shattering blows like it was nothing—she was dishing out pain left and right, making a complete mess of our defenses. She was literally distributing agony like it was rations at a war camp.

"Did you folks forge this yourselves?" she asked, holding up a terrified dwarf by the leg. The poor guy was doing a terrible job pretending to be dead.

"It is!" Chief responded proudly. "A masterpiece crafted by our best artisans! If you don’t back off right now, I swear—I’ll ramp it up, and you’ll regret it!"

"Ramp it up," in this case, was just a threat. The poor Chief had already played every card in his deck. That was his final move.

As for me?

I’d already cancelled my presence using a cloaking wristband. No way was I letting my jaw get realigned by a psycho like that. I enjoy chewing, thank you very much.

But my gaze eventually settled on the last one—the blonde.

She stood silently at the rear while the others fought.

That had to mean one of two things: either she was the leader, or she was the weakest link.

I was betting on the latter.

So, I crept closer, moving low and careful, eyes locked on her.

’Oh, gods... her magical energy is enormous...’

Still, even with all that aura, bones are bones. With enough pressure, they snap.

Maybe I could somehow manage to grab her, use her as a hostage. That might force the others to back off. Because at this rate, our entire village was going to crumble.

I reached out once I was close enough.

And then... she looked at me.

Just like that.

I’d passed the white-haired and red-eyed ones—the real threats of the group—without being noticed.

But somehow, she noticed me.

How?!

The moment those bored, indifferent eyes locked on mine, primal fear tore me apart, and I instinctively summoned Mjölnøx — my hammer-plus-axe creation that had once immobilized a god in battle and crushed a mid-level Principality in one swing.

A silver, character-engraved metal began to unfold at my hand within seconds, the tip forming a box hammer of black mass, with silver and golden cracks of energy dancing all over it.

In utter fear for my life, I swung as hard as I had ever done before...

Because I realized if I failed to kill her, I might be killed instead.

At full speed, in a matter of a second, the large black hammer connected.

She never moved. She never stopped looking at me like my life was already over.

Neither evaded nor defended.

Just watched as my Mjölnøx touched her—

CRASH!

—Compressed like soft butter to wall, then shattered into thousands of pieces.

Like it wasn’t capable of forming a small lake when at full power.

Like her body was made of the strongest material known to exist.

As I looked at the remaining history of the weapon in my hand — the handle — I wondered, We might be... really screwed.

Then the red-eyed girl spotted me somehow.

Her face darkened as she frowned slightly.

Crap. I’m dead, I felt, as my throat immediately ran dry.

Then she disappeared.

As I tried to make sense of the situation, something passed my legs very fast, and I was horizontally hoisted into the sky.

She had swept me with a kick.

And now, her fist was drawing toward me in the sky to smash my poor ribs into smithereens.

Nor-dwarves have far greater perception abilities than humans, so I could perceive everything that was otherwise super fast.

I looked at her eyes — they were angry, like I had touched the most important thing in the world.

They were pained, like she was blaming herself for letting her guard down.

And they were... murderous.

...We truly are going to die, aren’t we...?

And... I don’t think Sarvest sent these people.

SMASHHHHHH!!

Ouch...

I was airborne.