The next day, a sharp whistle jolted everyone awake. Aelina stood atop the high tower, her long ponytail fluttering in the wind as she overlooked the land like its queen. Her voice rang out loud and clear across the camp: "Prepare for battle! Fro! Get them organized now!"

The camp had been transformed into a seemingly simple fortress. Three-meter-high seamless wooden walls encircled it, with only one recessed entrance. Inside, only a few tents remained, arranged neatly in squares, with ample space between them and the walls.

Outside, over thirty mercenaries halted, their gazes sharp and menacing. Some wore rusted chainmail; most donned assorted dirty leather armors, each uniquely styled. They carried scimitars, spears, and crossbows. This was Durrant's elite force—ruthless and battle-scarred. Leading them was Durrant himself, his eyes bloodshot with rage, the deep scar on his lip glowing crimson.

Durrant glanced at the corpses piled with garbage outside the camp. He recognized a few familiar faces, then glared up at Aelina standing atop the tower, looking down with disdain. His fury boiled over. He pointed at the silverhaired maiden and roared, "You filthy slut, horny she-ass, vile whore! You used your loose body to fuck that impotent elf, conspired to ambush my brothers, stole my beasts and gold, burned my camp, and stirred rebellion among my slaves! Laughable! Soon, my brothers and I will slaughter you slave girls, then tie you to a pole and show everyone your true colors—you're nothing but a whore who orgasms at a touch! I'll sell you to nobles who enjoy beast shows, forcing you to mate with dogs daily!"

Aelina remained calm, even though her deepest secret was exposed. She wasn't worried—who would believe the rants of an enemy whose intelligence was crushed and who suffered heavy losses? She held a small pinwheel, calculating the wind speed.

No one responded. After a few more curses, Durrant quieted down. Meanwhile, Fro directed the flustered girls to raise their shields, forming a semicircular shield wall around the entrance. Aelina had said this would increase "attack density." Each wore blue chainmail edged with gold and thick black helmets. Their shields bore a plump bee with a comical expression. Seeing their shaky spears and the bee emblems, Durrant pointed at Fro and burst into laughter.

"Look at this! What is it? Long-eared Bee Knights!" Durrant sneered. "You mongrel, barely qualified for the battlefield—you can only fight with a bunch of slave girls. Soon, my brothers and I will take turns fucking your ass, whipping your buttocks while shouting, 'Oh, my Bee Knight, run! Run!'"

"Hahaha, Bee Knights!"

"Look at his silly helmet—it really looks like a bee."

Fro didn't have Aelina's patience. Furious, he drew his sword and pointed at Durrant. "You little bastard, mongrel, hare-lipped..."

"Oh, our great Bee Knight has some spirit, eh?"

Clearly, Fro's vocabulary for insults was no match for Durrant's. He was quickly outmatched, stammering at times.

Aelina sighed, then raised her voice high. "Sisters! Durrant, this despicable, inhuman slaver, brings his rabid dogs to steal our precious freedom! Will we allow it?"

"No!"

"We must resist! We must fight! We'll teach these beasts a lesson with our spears!" She pointed at Durrant. "Monkey! Dare to take one step forward?"

"Hahaha, you think I'll obey just because you say so?"

"Oh ho ho, the fearsome hare-lipped Durrant—after all, you just brought thirty-two dogs here to screech like a fishwife?" Her voice boomed, clear to all. "Or are you scared by the statue at the entrance? Take a good look—does his face seem familiar?"

The mercenaries suddenly noticed the "God of Freedom" statue at the entrance. It held a broom high, wearing a broken bucket on its head. One mercenary paled. "Th-this isn't Sorcerer Sony, is it?"

"Yes, it is him," confirmed the only mage among them. "Gods, what did this woman do to him? Is it petrification? That's a sixth-level spell!"

Mages capable of sixth-level spells were rarer than fist-sized pearls on this continent.

"Petrification!"

"She—she must be a powerful sorceress!"

Durrant fumed at his men's words. He jumped up, shouting, "You fools! If she were a powerful mage, could we be talking here calmly? We'd be dead by now! She's just a fraud playing tricks! Prepare to attack!" With that, he threw down his goggles and stomped on them. "This time, I won't play nice. Do you think your pathetic walls can stop us? You, take the ladders and scale the walls from the flanks! Rolph! Bring your men and charge with me—we'll crush these wenches. Tonight, they'll serve my cock well!"

He drew his longsword and charged forward, leading the assault. Mercenaries raised shields, roaring as they guarded his sides. Others carried crude ladders made of rope and wood, rushing toward the wooden walls.

"A gift for you!" Aelina suddenly yanked off the coarse cloth covering a nearby object, revealing a formidable giant crossbow. Its string was made from the sinews of last night's mule and crossbow cords. She gripped the weapon, adjusted its position, and pulled the trigger. A three-finger-thick bolt whooshed toward Durrant. Though this primitive weapon had laughable accuracy, at less than a hundred meters and with the wind factored in, Durrant had no chance to dodge.

Durrant watched the bolt fly toward him. Panicked, he yanked a nearby brother's cloak, pulling him close—a smooth move that surprised Aelina. The bolt slammed into the "brother's" chest. He hadn't even processed it, eyes wide as he stared at the shaft. Before he could reach to confirm, Durrant shoved him away. Thanks to this "brother shield," the spent bolt failed to pierce his chainmail.

"Charge! Charge! The enemy has a giant crossbow! Get to the wooden walls!" The tower was tall. Aelina used the Molecular Reconstructor to reload the bolt in a flash. Whoosh! She fired at the mage, but shield-bearing guards protected him. Thus, another "brother shield" blocked the deadly shot.

The mercenaries ran like the wind—half thanks to the giant crossbow. They reached the wooden walls, but the solid ground suddenly gave way. Sharpened, fire-hardened stakes pierced the feet of the unlucky ones.

"Traps! Traps!"

"Quick! Use your weapons to probe the ground!" Experienced mercenaries stabbed the earth with their weapons, despairing as they found the trap density rivaling a beehive.

Aelina fixed the pinwheel to a wooden pole. By eye, she calculated its rotation speed to estimate the wind, then operated the giant crossbow to shoot at scattered mercenaries. Each bolt roughly hit a mercenary's torso, though she aimed for the chest. Loud screams echoed outside the walls. One mercenary was pinned through the thigh to the ground, his ladder falling. This gave the others an idea—they quickly laid the ladders flat and ran across them to the base of the wall.

Durrant blended into the crowd, making him hard to target. The fierce mercenaries charged into the entrance. If not for the lack of wood, they would have faced a wooden door—Aelina couldn't decompose wood that wasn't fully dead yet.

The girls' hearts pounded as they pointed their spear tips at the charging men. These had been their masters just days ago, free to do as they pleased. But last night's grievance session planted seeds of rebellion and fury. Now, those seeds sprouted, driving away fear. Fro hefted his spear, standing at the forefront of the shield wall. He let out a battle cry, and the entire squad, inspired, roared together.

"Aaaah!"

Fro thrust his spear forward with such force that it pierced a mercenary wearing chainmail, toppling him. This emboldened the girls. Mercenaries used their weapons to deflect spears and crashed against the shield wall. Some unlucky ones were impaled by multiple spears, but most attacks failed to pierce armor. Still, under the tidal assault, the girls barely held their ground.

The crescent formation had another advantage: Aelina didn't have to worry about hitting her own. She adjusted the giant crossbow with the Molecular Reconstructor, about to fire into the crowd, when the stone-armored mage broke free from his shield guards. He pulled a precious parchment scroll from his waist and chanted the incantation at lightning speed. Magic scrolls were extremely valuable, priced in gold coins. Each consumed precious materials and the mage's mana to create.

Aelina wasn't worried the mage would obliterate her. As the slavers' dream for the rest of their lives, she was well-protected. She also wasn't concerned about the giant crossbow being destroyed—she could repair it. The crossbow aimed at the mage. As the spell completed, the parchment scroll turned to ash. A furious fireball roared toward the tower, while the bolt simultaneously flew at the mage.

"Boom!"

The tower trembled, tilting toward the ground. Flames spread from below. Aelina gripped the railing as the giant crossbow groaned, tilting downward. Through the flames and smoke, she saw the bolt hit the mage. The stone armor cracked like a spiderweb, shattering into pieces on the ground. The mage himself only staggered and fell.

He didn't obliterate Aelina directly but destroyed the tower. She could repair the giant crossbow, but not the tower in a short time! Without its support, the all-female squad would eventually crumble. Moreover, once the mage was free, a few casual spells would shatter this group of inexperienced girls at an alarming rate. Now, on the crumbling tower, Aelina saw the mage beginning to cast another spell...