Sorcery Monarch

Chapter 92: Encircled

 

Whoosh!

 

A dark green Melf's Acid Arrow shot through the air, making a sharp whistling sound, and struck a troll right in the chest.

 

The severely injured troll staggered as Beelzebub stepped forward and swung his axe down on its neck.

 

The stench of troll blood filled the air as Beelzebub glanced at the still-sizzling wound on the troll’s chest, feeling a chill deep in his heart.

 

"So this is the power of an arcanist? It's no less impressive than the warriors of the Eastern Empire..."

 

Beelzebub had initially thought that he and his kin would end up as cannon fodder in this battle, like so many others of their kind.

 

But instead, what awaited them was a strict training regimen, far more demanding than he had imagined.

 

What troubled Beelzebub the most was the old white-haired instructor.

 

Though frail and aged, the instructor possessed terrifying combat experience and technique.

 

After being beaten down a few times, Beelzebub had no choice but to follow his orders, restraining his kin and pushing them to train harder.

 

In the following training sessions, Beelzebub and the other barbarian soldiers received weapons and equipment of unprecedented quality.

 

When Beelzebub accepted the double-headed axe, a reward from Instructor Arnold for his successful training,

 

He was struck by a feeling he couldn’t quite describe—something deep, something powerful.

 

The full set of metal armor and the finely crafted iron weapons seemed like treasures that only the bravest warriors in the barbarian army could earn.

 

Beelzebub had his doubts about why the lord was treating them so well.

 

Was it only to make them better cannon fodder?

 

But Arnold, the old instructor, gave him a surprising answer:

 

"Ha, never try to guess the intentions of a powerful, mysterious arcanist with your own limited understanding."

 

"Improving your strength and combat ability is the only way to repay the lord."

 

"Let me be blunt: even if you all tried to escape back to your homeland, you wouldn’t live better lives than you do here."

 

Though the words stung, they left all the barbarian soldiers silent.

 

The lord who had bought them didn’t bind them or throw them into prison; instead, he had given them more than they ever imagined possible.

 

Since then, Beelzebub and the others had settled into their new lives, putting aside their questions.

 

After all, they had already lost too much.

 

In Bay Village, they were placed into scattered families, each living apart but content with their stable, far better than their previous "wealthy" lives.

 

Not having to toil in the scorching sun and fierce winds, being able to feed their families—it was all they could have ever hoped for.

 

In fact, many of the barbarian soldiers felt a deep sense of fear and anxiety, pushing them to work harder in training, afraid that if they displeased the lord, they would lose this newfound life.

 

As a result, every barbarian soldier carried with them high morale and an unwavering determination to fight any enemy!

 

Bang!

 

Beelzebub stepped forward, swinging his axe to strike a troll from behind, saving a fallen soldier in the process.

 

The soldier gave him a thumbs up before being dragged to the backlines, gulping down a bottle of blood-replenishing potion, quickly regaining his strength.

 

It was only then that Beelzebub remembered the three blood-replenishing potions strapped to his belt, true lifesavers in the heat of battle.

 

"Even a grunt like me gets to use these precious and expensive alchemical potions?"

 

Once, Beelzebub wouldn’t have thought this way. He might have even thought it wasteful for the lord to give him such valuable resources. But now, his perspective had changed!

 

"After all, my life belongs to the lord. I’ll follow his orders until the very end!"

 

Watching from the backlines, Angela observed the chaotic clash between the trolls and the barbarian soldiers and couldn’t help but shake her head.

 

"We still need to improve their coordination..."

 

But she was also impressed with the barbarian soldiers’ combat abilities and spirit. Patiently, she directed the other soldiers to support their barbarian allies in battle.

 

Their straightforward fighting style didn’t require complex tactics—simple adjustments would suffice for even better results.

 

Listening to the satisfying sound of kill notifications, Matthew also noted the simple yet effective coordination between the barbarian soldiers and regular troops.

 

"It seems turning the barbarians into heavy infantry might be a good idea, but this is just the beginning..."

 

"And the barbarians excel more in offense than defense. Considering their preference for heavy weapons, perhaps..."

 

"Wait, where did the other trolls go?"

 

Suddenly feeling uneasy, Matthew turned his gaze toward the distance, and his expression shifted.

 

The hundreds of trolls that had emerged from the valley hadn’t crossed the river. Instead, they had disappeared into the surrounding forest.

 

Yaya, who had been lying low, raised her head cautiously, her slit-pupiled eyes narrowing as she focused on the right side of the battlefield, speaking gravely:

 

"Over a hundred stronger trolls are charging toward us."

 

"Hundreds more trolls are circling around, tightening the noose..."

 

Circling around?

 

A noose?

 

So the trolls in front of them had just been bait?

 

Matthew patted Yaya’s head and clicked his tongue in thought:

 

"To devour us whole, these trolls are willing to sacrifice over a hundred of their own. How intriguing..."

 

Though his tone was casual, inwardly Matthew remained alert.

 

The previous battles may have gone smoothly, but that didn’t mean he could let his guard down. This was a real, living world—there were no respawns here.

 

Despite feeling uneasy about the trolls’ strategy, Matthew didn’t show any signs of panic.

 

Maintaining the image of a mysterious, powerful figure was crucial!

 

After alerting Angela, Matthew turned his attention to the remaining twenty trolls by the river, raising his staff without hesitation.

 

Boom!

 

The trolls, now trapped by the soldiers near the river, were hit hard by another Fireball spell, four of them falling instantly.

 

The remaining trolls struggled and fought desperately.

 

Meanwhile, the soldiers pushed forward, racing to eliminate them before the next wave of trolls arrived.

 

Both sides were racing against time!

 

Just then, over a hundred fully armed, towering trolls burst onto the battlefield with piercing howls from the right flank.

 

Matthew knew that in the forest to the left, hundreds more trolls were charging toward them.

 

Angela, already warned, showed no signs of panic as she called out to steady the soldiers:

 

"Don’t panic! Squads two and three, continue the attack. Squads one and four, fall back and regroup."

 

Though the soldiers had been training for nearly a month, rapidly disengaging from a fierce battle and reforming their ranks remained a difficult task.

 

By the time they managed to regroup, the hundred-plus trolls were already closing in.

 

And now, from just over a hundred meters away on the left side, the shadows of hundreds more trolls began to emerge.

 

Matthew and his soldiers were now surrounded!

 

The adventurers still entangled with trolls in the distance caught sight of this, their faces turning pale with shock.

 

The adventurers’ reactions were mixed.

 

Some were already considering retreat, preparing to flee the moment things went south.

 

Others wanted to help but hesitated in the face of the trolls’ overwhelming numbers and terrifying power, remaining on the outskirts.

 

The largest group chose to watch and wait, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

 

After all, adventurers weren’t fond of unnecessary risks!