Lord of Rot

A small, thin figure moved quickly through the shallows.

It had dull green skin coated in a slippery slime. Its belly was a grayish-white, like a toad flipped onto its back, legs kicking at the sky. A fin grew from its back, but its overall shape was humanoid... a vague humanoid form. It had hands and fingers, but the digits were connected by webbing.

Its head was a cross between a human’s and a fish’s, with huge, bulging eyes that, like a fish’s, could not close. Its pupils were fixed. It had gills on its face that quivered slightly.

"Aaargh—!" it shrieked, its voice hoarse. Its gills trembled even more rapidly than its vocal cords.

Pushing off with its back legs, the small figure leaped onto the shore, leaving a trail of wet footprints.

It walked into the muddy water ahead.

GLUG GLUG GLUG. One by one, Fishman heads emerged from the muck, responding with the same harsh, grating sounds.

"Aaargh!" "Aaargh!" "Aaargh!"

The cries echoed all around.

One after another, similar half-human, half-fish monsters climbed out of the murky swamp. Some held bone forks, others white bone hammers made from human skulls, or bows fashioned from ribs. They looked like a miniature civilization.

"Aaargh!"

The calls were cacophonous, yet seemed to have a kind of order to them.

They moved as one, crossing the river and concealing their bodies, and soon found the target of their expedition.

A group of human Soldiers in light armor, shields in their left hands and blades in their right.

The leader was a woman in iron armor. She held a longsword with both hands, her iron boots planted on the corpses of the Fishman monsters’ brethren.

"Didn’t Bode kill all of these Fishman monsters?" she asked. "Where did this new batch come from?"

No one dared to answer her.

Bode was the future heir of Green Forest Castle, not someone common Soldiers could gossip about. Besides, compared to their fight-happy young lady, everyone was more afraid of the grim Lord Bode.

"Miss, something’s not right," a Soldier said suddenly.

"Hm?"

The woman nodded. "It’s too quiet."

Summer was approaching, and Linta Bay should have long been filled with the croaking of frogs. But now, it was eerily quiet, as if winter had come and frozen all life.

SWOOSH!

A bone arrow flew out.

The woman reacted instantly, batting the arrow away with her sword.

"Ambush!" she yelled.

The others immediately raised their shields. Thanks to their quick reactions, only two unlucky men were hit by bone arrows.

The wounded Soldiers collapsed, foaming at the mouth.

"The arrows are poisoned!"

Someone went to check on them, then breathed a sigh of relief. "It’s okay, they’re just unconscious. Still breathing."

The woman held her longsword, gazing at the three or four hundred Fishmen swarming toward them. "They’ll have to survive this first."

They had only set out with twelve people.

Facing an ambush of four hundred poison-wielding Fishmen, it was hard to say if any of them would make it out alive.

"It seems our recent hunts have earned their hatred. They’ve come specifically to wipe us out," she said.

"I’ll break a path through them," the woman announced. "Stay close behind me. We’re not leaving anyone behind!"

"Yes, ma’am!" the others replied crisply.

The woman took a deep breath. A powerful aura exploded from her body as she stomped her foot, gouging a crater in the ground. She shot forward like a bullet.

In the blink of an eye, she had crossed a dozen steps, dragging her longsword with both hands.

Any Fishman monsters in her path were sent flying, and any she met head-on were smashed into pulp!

The remaining light-armored soldiers immediately helped their unconscious comrades to their feet and charged through the gap the woman had created. ’This chance to live is fleeting.’

The Fishman monsters, heedless of death, surged in from all sides, dragging the group trying to break out back into the muddy water.

The woman seemed to have limitless strength and was impervious to harm. She bulldozed a path forward, completely unstoppable. But her soldiers were only ordinary men. Swept up by the Fishmen, they were dragged deeper and deeper into the muddy water.

Her longsword swept out, cleanly decapitating two Fishman monsters. The heads flew in an arc before splashing into the muck, where they were trampled to a pulp by other Fishmen.

Her strength was immense, but she alone was invincible. With her soldiers surrounded, she was powerless to help.

To save her men, she had no choice but to charge back in, attempting to carve another bloody path to freedom.

Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats echoed from a distance.

"SWOOSH—!"

A long spear accurately impaled three Fishmen, pinning them to the muddy ground.

To call it precise wouldn’t be quite right; with so many Fishmen packed together, you could hit one with your eyes closed.

"Reinforcements?" The woman looked with pleasant surprise in the direction the spear had come from.

In the distance, a black-haired youth appeared, mounted on a warhorse. She recognized it at a glance as a Flame-Mane, a fine breed from the Eastern Gorge.

He was still holding his throwing posture; it seemed he was the one who had just helped.

The black-haired youth’s shout rang out: "Rescue the wounded! Kill the enemy!"

"Yes, sir!" The answering cries were unified.

The sound of iron boots splashing through the mud caught the woman’s attention. A group of fully-armored soldiers was charging in from behind the mounted youth.

The arrival of the iron-clad Soldiers drew the attention of some Fishmen. They lunged, only to be killed in an instant.

Against the small Fishmen, these Soldiers were completely overwhelming them. In contrast, the Fishmen’s poisoned bone arrows only produced a single "CLINK" against the iron armor before falling harmlessly away.

The bone hammers made no impression either; in fact, one Soldier sent a Fishman flying with a backhanded slap.

In Linta Bay, most combat involved wading through water, making heavy armor impractical.

But it was precisely because they weren’t wearing heavy armor that her men had been swarmed by these frail Fishmen; otherwise, they wouldn’t have had to be so cautious.

She noticed that this new group was highly experienced in battle. Every one of them was a veteran of many campaigns.

What surprised her most was the black-haired youth. He leaped off his horse, his longsword flashing as he lopped off a Fishman’s head. As he was retracting his blade, another Fishman lunged at him. Given the length of the longsword, he wouldn’t be able to strike again in time. But the youth reacted with incredible speed, smashing the Fishman’s head with the pommel of his sword.

He easily crushed its skull.

He wasn’t wearing heavy armor, yet he dodged with fluid agility, relying on his swift reflexes to quickly dispatch the Fishmen.

In a mere moment, he had already killed more than a dozen, a pile of corpses gathering around him.

Moreover, he even had the presence of mind to look after the two young squires behind him, helping to relieve the pressure on them. The young squires were learning fast, progressing from slow, clumsy swings to quicker strikes, though they still looked a bit stiff.

Working together, they finally slaughtered the Fishmen until the survivors broke and fled in terror.

Nearly a hundred Fishman corpses were left behind.

’We survived!’

"How is everyone?" the black-haired youth asked, turning first to his own Soldiers.

"A few little monsters, nothing to worry about."

"Just a few scratches, nothing serious, sir."

"Finally, a good fight! I was getting so bored on the road!"

After the battle, most of the Soldiers had some wounds, but they were all minor. Their spirits were incredibly high.

In fact, they had gained a whole new understanding of their lord. A lord who would charge into the fray and fight alongside his men would greatly boost morale. From this moment on, their loyalty would be forged in steel—solid until the next time the young man turned and fled in fear during a battle, shattering his heroic image.

Once that impression was formed, they would likely refuse to believe it even if someone told them their lord had run away.

The black-haired youth announced, "One Silver Moon for everyone! Two Silver Moons for anyone who complains about the pain!"

"Doesn’t hurt!"

"Doesn’t hurt!"

Even if it hurt, they wouldn’t say so. Two Silver Moons would be nice, but it was too embarrassing.

"Sir, I’m in pain! I’ll take the pain for everyone. Can I have all their shares?"

The black-haired youth laughed and cursed, "You’re not even hurt! Pain, my ass!"

"HAHAHA!" The Soldiers roared with laughter.

Even the two youths, who looked like this was their first battle, joined in the laughter, shaking off the fear of the slaughter.

The woman watched the group with some amusement. They looked like elite, professional soldiers, so why were they suddenly handing out rewards like a band of mountain bandits?

But when her gaze fell upon the flag on the carriage that had stopped in the distance, she suddenly froze. "You’re my cousin?"

The black-haired youth turned to stare at her, a strange expression on his face. "Don’t tell me you’re... my cousin?"