After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World-Chapter 1272: The Hunt Continues (Part 2)
Angit immediately attempted to stand up, but he was greeted with a strong kick and sharp claws.
Slash! Claw!
"AH!" he screamed as the half-orc showered him with attacks. Although the half-orc's level was far below his, its physiques made up for it.
Angit cried out as he used a skill to push it back, and he finally managed to make a few counters.
However, a few elementalists appeared around their fight. Sometimes, he'd feel heavy rocks attached to his feet, and sometimes, a large whip of water would cover his face.
"AHHH!" he yelled as he attacked his surroundings relentlessly, but it was no use—he was surrounded by elementalists and a half-orc.
He was a powerhouse in his level 30s! He never would have imagined himself being this helpless in a war with a 'lower' town!
SLASH!
Angit's eyes widened as he felt the half-orc's claw enter his chest.
"How did you find us so quickly?!" he screamed.
The half-orc looked at him as if he were already dead.
"Because you smell of powdered piss," he said, finally pulling out his claws, taking a good part of his insides with it.
Similarly, Angit's other teammates were also mobbed; some of them were killed directly, while some were captured.
Mao looked at the bastards they had taken down, counting them while he stood on top of his pet ball. According to the report, a number of their own powerhouses had arrived at the breach, so there should be no more from that area.
However, they also knew that a few dozen people past level 25 had gotten through. This meant there were still quite a few breaches they had to deal with now.
Of course, the most practical way was to just wait where the important people were. It was more likely that those people would be heading there anyway.
However, in Alterra, although the Elders were quite well-guarded, it didn't mean they'd allow such dangers roaming around the Town.
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This was why there was a 'Breach Team' —with their primary trackers Gochi and Fufi—roaming around, making sure to get rid of trespassers as soon as possible.
…
Sam's "piss powder" only managed to stick on a little over a dozen people, so they were left with manually tracking down the rest of them.
Unlike many aborigines though, their current enemies proved to have a bit of brain. Typically, those strongmen would be itchy to cause damage and were, therefore, easier to track. However, even Vaza, a level 39, was quiet and that was honestly even more disconcerting.
As with teams, there were powerhouses that must remain in their position to make sure there were no weak spots regardless of whether a breach elsewhere was formed.
There were also those, like Oslo, who were part of the Breach Team and went to where the flares were. Unlike others though, he was powerful enough to move alone.
His area was about a kilometer away from this spot, and he—and a few other earth users—took down those siege shields by creating craters.
Of course, the enemy also had their own earth user, but he made sure to take care of him, before he rushed to where the breaches were.
It was in an area almost directly opposite of where the array appeared. At the very least, the enemy was not stupid, and they had plenty of strategies to make things hard for them.
From the same area, another flare flew. It was a different colored one, more saturated than before, and it was also aimed in a certain direction.
This meant the breach had gotten past the easement and had entered deeper into the territory.
Oslo gritted his teeth as he disappeared from where he stood, following the direction the flare was pointing to.
The enemy must've made a very concentrated attack using a good portion of their powerhouses. This was indeed a practical move, especially so because it'd be hard to completely prepare against.
This was difficult to predict, especially since a territory could be so large that the defenders could only react to it as things happened.
He arrived at an area, though he wasn't quite sure where to start. Fortunately, their 'omnipotent' citizens were there to help.
"Oslo, someone went this way!"
"Another that way!"
"Thanks!"
"Anytime, Golden god~"
"Say Hi to Ansel for me~"
"..."
Because the territory was young, a lot of people were too weak to directly participate in the Town war.
The level limit was, in fact, Level 10, and anyone below this was to join from the safety of covers with a large group of people.
Some opted to hide in their own homes. In their words, how could there be eyes everywhere if no one were in their houses?
Of course, there was also their need for contribution points. Generally speaking, staying inside with a lot of people during the war was basically just hiding—there was no gain at all.
In that vein, the people were required to stay together and choose houses where they could gather in.
In Alterra's case, outside of the designated evacuation houses, the rest chose houses directly abutting the streets so they could not only monitor the movements of potential breaches but also throw in attacks while in the safety of their houses.
However, they were discouraged to attract attention to themselves unless people who could handle the enemies were in the vicinity. It was just that a lot of Alterrans were really brave and became very noisy alarms at the risk of getting attention to themselves.
Anyway, Oslo continued to walk, following the instructions for about a minute or so until the traces disappeared in one of the corners.
He looked up at the people on the balconies. In particular, two balconies over the corner. The one on the left apologized for not seeing the way, while the other one pointed in a direction.
Oslo narrowed his eyes.
The one of the left was one of the people under probation because he was seen in contact with some suspicious aborigines roaming around.
On the other hand, the other person was Rebi—one of the first rescues from the then-Fargo Village—who was absolutely clean.
After some thought, he decided to follow Rebi's directions and headed there, soon disappearing into view.
…
Rebi took a deep breath, clenching his shivering fists. He met eyes with the other person on the balcony, who sneered at him before heading back inside.
Rebi closed his eyes and turned, heading inside and glared at the five people inside. "Are you satisfied?" he asked, looking at the three enemies who were using his house to hide, as well as the two little girls they were holding at knifepoint.
This was his daughter, Fiona, and Lina, Bruce's adopted daughter who was put in his care while her father went to war. The children went missing shortly before the war, so they were unable to send them to the bunker.
He did not even have the chance to question where they had been because, a few moments after, their doors opened abruptly, revealing three men past level 20.
They entered his home as if they owned the place, and they quickly took him down before they could scream.
They turned his place into a hiding spot and, shortly after the war, it housed half a dozen men—all of whom were relaxing downstairs.
If these bastards did anything to his daughter—
"You dare glare at us?" the man asked, voice low and threatening.
The blade got closer to the girls' necks, making Rebi's heart turn cold.
Rebi bit his lips, knees buckling, and he dropped to the floor. Shivering, he leaned down and kowtowed to them. "T-This is already y-your base. We won't make noise," he said, voice raspy like sandpaper rubbed his throat. "P-Please let the g-girls go."
The three aborigines seemed to enjoy his humiliation, with one of them even kicking his head from above.
Bam!
Rebi's face touched the surface, and the foot continued to push his head down, making sure his face was rubbing on the floor.
The two girls cried, but they were not allowed to make noise—otherwise, they'd be dead—so they could only bite their lips to stop their sobs, hearts breaking for every moment that passed.
This was their fault. If they hadn't been captured—
The aborigine couldn't care less about the little girl's tears.
The man continued to rub Rebi's face on the floor, increasing pressure, and his face began to leave wiped marks of blood on the surface.
Rebi's level was less than half of each men, and if this went on it was estimated his head would be flattened like pancakes.
The aborigines laughed, enjoying the view, when the door of the balcony abruptly opened and three metal spikes immediately came their way.
"AH! The men yelled as part of their bodies were hit. The hits weren't lethal due to its rush, but it was enough for them to let go of their hostages, who quickly crawled to the corner and embraced each other.
Rebi—who was dizzy from the earlier torture—couldn't help but cry.
"OSLO!"