A few days after taking Mentu under our wing,

we led three thousand troops straight to the strongholds of various bandit gangs.

Intel suggested a single gang numbered at least ten thousand.

Scattered across Baha Balm were over a dozen such gangs, big and small.

If we could swallow them whole, Baha Balm would balloon overnight—no more worrying about troop shortages.

During our relentless campaign, our forces suffered almost no losses.

Our disciplined formations and high morale crushed these ragtag rabble effortlessly.

Often, after routing the bandits’ vanguard, the entire enemy force would collapse—scattering like frightened rats.

For gangs offering no resistance, we executed their leaders outright. The rest surrendered without a fight.

And then… we finally grasped just how monstrous Mentu’s strength truly was.

As a commander, Mentu left much to be desired.

But his raw, individual power made Chining’s heart skip a beat.

Mentu wielded only a bow.

He rarely killed many enemies per battle.

Yet every arrow found its mark. Every shot drew blood.

In every raid, Mentu stood firmly within our ranks—drawing his bow, releasing an arrow—and sniping the enemy chieftain cowering at the very rear.

*What kind of damn sniper rifle is this?!*

In Mentu’s own words: "Merely a casual shot."

Killing the opposing commander mid-battle practically guaranteed victory.

But ordinary bows lacked such impossible range.

Mentu had no concept of range. Within sight, he could pick off any target.

His talent, 【Divine Marksman】, ensured his arrows lost no power over distance.

Meaning—adjust the angle right, and he could shoot an arrow straight into the atmosphere if he wished.

*Are you even human…?*

This quiet man proved his worth through sheer strength. His pride was earned.

Witnessing his power, Chining’s attitude toward him softened considerably.

Among warriors, respect is bought with demonstrated strength.

Once familiar, Mentu wasn’t so hard to talk to—though he still spoke in clipped, sparse sentences.

Now fully assured of Mentu’s might, I turned my focus to the largest bandit gang.

---

"B-boss! Baha Balm’s forces have reached our stronghold!"

"Hah! Think I’m afraid to fight?! Beat some small-time thugs and think you can take *me*?!"

Inside the Black Mountain Gang’s base, the chieftain roared at the scout’s report.

"Fight! Crush them for me!"

His simple, brutal command sent minions scrambling to form ranks against us.

From a high vantage point on Black Mountain, I squinted at the battlefield.

Watching twenty thousand enemy heads from the rear, I broke a sweat—this force nearly matched Leahdon’s army.

Still, I wasn’t overly worried. One-on-one, our soldiers might be evenly matched. But a disciplined army versus this chaotic rabble? Three thousand of ours could rout five thousand of theirs without breaking a sweat. Even now, our morale overshadowed theirs.

Then—everything changed with one man’s arrival.

From afar, the battlefield was just specks. Yet the moment he appeared, my gaze locked onto him.

Impossible to ignore.

*Is that their chieftain?*

His aura existed on another plane entirely compared to previous leaders.

The largest bandit gang… *Hah. This might be trickier than expected.*

Even Mentu, who usually sniped enemy leaders the moment they showed themselves, hesitated to draw his bow.

Mentu narrowed his eyes slightly, stroking his thick black beard.

"Lord Chining… this one is no ordinary foe."

"Agreed."

Chining last felt such pressure during his duel with Buno.

This opponent radiated even greater intensity.

The enemy ranks suddenly parted.

A hulking dark-skinned man swaggered forward.

Their chieftain.

"So *you’re* the bastards planning to attack us? Huh?!"

His opening roar shook the air.

Silence answered him from our side. Veins bulged on his forehead.

"Damn it! Don’t look down on me!!!"

The next instant—every soldier in Baha Balm’s army staggered, dazed…

All from that single bellow.

"Hey! Bring me my steed!"

A lackey scrambled to fetch the chieftain’s mount.

The horse was pitch-black, its muscled frame flowing like liquid shadow. Armored, it looked like a demon steed from hell.

The stallion snorted affectionately as it neared its master.

The dark giant patted its head, then vaulted effortlessly onto its back. He swung his Great Halberd.

"HAAAH! Brats! Follow me—CHARGE!!!"

Bandit gangs had no real tactics. Their movements relied entirely on the chieftain’s lead.

Such forces usually charged in disarray, lacking cohesion.

But under this dark giant’s command, the entire rabble surged forward like a tiger descending a mountain—terrifying, unified.

His towering seven-foot frame seemed to stretch toward the heavens, godlike.

*You call this a bandit boss?*

*You’re more like some nation’s top general!*

"CHARGE!"

Chining’s command rang out simultaneously.

Mentu finally drew his bow.

This shot had been brewing since he first laid eyes on the man. Ordinary arrows wouldn’t scratch him.

For warriors, Inner Energy wasn’t everything. Willpower was key.

And Mentu’s greatest strength was his unbreakable will.

A glare from a willpower master could shatter weaker minds, winning battles before they began.

Mentu had been focusing his will since the start, waiting for a killing shot.

His fingers brushed the quiver at his back.

A simple iron arrow nocked onto his worn wooden bow.

Wind coiled around the shaft.

Mentu disliked this technique—too flashy, too conspicuous. It violated a marksman’s need for stealth.

But as the bowstring drew taut, brilliant blue light erupted from the arrow.

"【Heavenstartle God】."

The arrow shot forth.

In the next instant, it traversed a thousand miles.

Where it flew, bandits fell dead or wounded. Yet our own troops remained untouched, as if by magic.

The arrow moved too fast. Only fading blue sparks in the air proved its passage.

The chieftain had seen it coming.

But he *knew*—he couldn’t dodge.

This wasn’t about reaction time… it was a deeper, unnatural certainty.

*Locked on. That’s how it felt.*

【If I can’t dodge… THEN I’LL BLOCK IT!!!】

"RAAAAAGH!"

A colossal burst of Inner Energy erupted—drawing even distant Chining’s sharp glance.

The chieftain swung his halberd with brutal precision.

*CRACK!*

He split the arrowhead mid-flight.

It looked effortless. But the chieftain knew the truth.

Facing a mere arrow felt like weathering the charge of ten thousand warhorses.

Muscles tore in his arms. Blood seeped through his grip. His halberd trembled violently.

【He… split it…】

Mentu’s eyebrows shot up. This monster’s strength sent chills down his spine…

No one had ever countered this move like that.

Excitement warred with frustration—his ultimate technique, broken. Mentu’s mind churned.

"Lord Chining… tread carefully. Calling this man a monster wouldn’t be wrong."

"Hah. Understood."

As Chining prepared to engage, he spotted my signal flag.

I ordered him to lure this monster away from the battlefield.

A direct clash here would cost us half our three thousand troops.

One swing of that halberd could slaughter dozens. If he refused to duel our generals and just rampaged… we might lose.

"DARE YOU ACCEPT MY CHALLENGE, ENEMY COMMANDER?!!!"

Chining leveled his blade, taunting the chieftain.

"Why not?! Just see if you can survive three swings of my axe!"

The dark giant spurred his steed straight at Chining.

Chining then began weaving across the battlefield.

"Coward! Stand and fight!"

The chieftain fumed at Chining’s evasion. *Where’s the honor in this duel?!*

"Can’t even catch me? And you dare claim to fight me?"

"You dare mock me, bastard?!"

Chining kept leading him farther from the fray.

*This guy’s not too bright, huh…*

I watched the two tiny black dots shrink into the distance, a wry thought crossing my mind.