Beast Tamer Era: Capturing SSS-ranks with the Strongest Taming System-Chapter 126: Wild assassination

Chapter 126: Wild assassination
"The only way to end this nightmare is to kill the Necromancer," the commander said.
"Aye, but that’s easier said than done. He’s in the heart of the horde, heavily guarded by creatures that don’t know pain, exhaustion, or fear. Getting to him is like crossing a mountain of swords and a river of flames. Killing him is going to be even harder as he knows all sorts of dark magic," the vice commander said grimly. "Only a silver ranker can accomplish such a grand feat. And there’s no one like that here."
The commander was a man in his forties.
His hair was mostly dark with some wild streaks of gray running across his temples.
Fine lines traced the corners of his sharp eyes, his gaze hawk-like, and he sported stubbles, giving him a rugged look.
His square jaw and well-shaped features showed he had likely been a handsome man in his younger years.
The vice commander appeared to be a man nearing the end of his life. His hair was completely white. His back was slightly hunched. He didn’t have much facial hair. He looked old and weary, with many wrinkles lining his face.
Both men stood side by side atop the tallest wall ever forged in Veloria and were clad in the distinctive attire of the defenders of the Great Wall, their dark steel breastplates engraved with the crest of the frontier, and their long black cloaks fluttering behind them in the cold wind.
They watched the unfolding battle with worry etched deep across their faces.
The army of the dead wasn’t terribly strong as most of it was made up of ordinary corpses.
Ordinary corpses were nothing special.
The only things that stood out about them was that they couldn’t feel pain and unless their bodies were completely destroyed, they wouldn’t stay down.
They were no different from mortals in terms of strength.
A single initial-stage Iron Ranker could easily take on tens of them.
Only a small portion had devoured enough living beings to mutate, gaining twisted forms and dangerous traits that put them on par with Iron Rankers.
The true problem was their sheer numbers.
There were simply too many of them.
The defenders atop the Great Wall felt as though they were fighting an endless tide of monsters dead set on dragging them to the pits of hell, and that feeling was slowly eating away at their morale.
Their deteriorating condition only made things worse.
The commander and vice commander couldn’t think of any words to raise their army’s morale. Lying would only make things worse. The severity of the unfolding situation was plain for everyone to see, after all.
Unless the horde began thinning under their relentless assault, or the Necromancer was somehow slain, there would be a breach within the next two to three days.
If that happened, countless lives would be lost.
They both prayed silently that it wouldn’t come to that, that the Great Wall would stand unbroken.
They hoped for a miracle.
But even they knew they were being foolish.
Under the current conditions, even a Silver Ranker would find killing the Necromancer difficult.
And they only had three Silver Rankers on their side—all occupied in other warfronts.
They couldn’t come to help. That meant they were on their own, facing the greatest terror of the Misty Swamp Region.
Meanwhile.
Far above the chaos, a serpent with a wingspan of over ten meters hovered in the sky, shrouded in clouds. Atop its head stood a young man who wasn’t conventionally handsome and had rough skin.
These two were Ray and the Flying Serpent.
Ray gazed down at the war raging on with cold, assessing eyes.
The dead fought savagely, while the defenders met every assault with precise, calculated movements, each action meant to stop the enemy from scaling the wall.
Their coordination and formations spoke volumes of their commander’s leadership. It was on an entirely different league compared to the Necromancer’s.
The reason behind such a discrepancy was simple.
The commander had to be considerate as he was commanding men of flesh and blood, while the Necromancer viewed his army as nothing more than disposable pawns. As long as they pushed him closer to his goal, he would sacrifice them without a second thought.
It was truly unfortunate that there were too few defenders. Otherwise, a trashy commander like the Necromancer, who lacked discipline, strategy, and any sense of restraint, would have long since lost the war.
A mere thousand defenders stood against an army numbering in the hundreds of thousands. An army against whom most tactics proved useless.
They couldn’t be frightened, couldn’t be demoralized, and couldn’t be reasoned with.
The dead felt no pain, no fear, and no hesitation.
Only destruction could stop them.
"It’s time," Ray said to the flying serpent. "Start acting."
It nodded in response.
Immediately, they parted ways.
The flying serpent dove from the sky, slicing through clouds as it plummeted toward the earth. Its massive wings beat the air with thunderous force as it sped toward the throne where the Necromancer sat regally, one leg crossed over the other.
The Necromancer sensed it approaching and tilted his head to look upward. When he saw who it was, his heart filled up with confusion.
"What are you doing here?"
According to the plan they had all agreed upon, the Flying Serpent and the Mad Chieftain were supposed to arrive with their armies after he had exhausted the Great Wall’s defenders.
That time was still days away.
So why was the Flying Serpent here now, and where was its army?
A sharp unease took root in the Necromancer’s chest. Something was wrong.
"Lord Necro!" the serpent hissed as it approached the obsidian platform encircled by towering obelisks. Its voice trembled with feigned panic.
The Necromancer’s expression darkened. His lips curled downward as his skeletal fingers tightened around the armrest of his throne. Whatever the serpent was about to say, he already knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.
The serpent landed heavily on the platform beside him before continuing from where it left off,
"Bad news! The Mad Chieftain has betrayed us! He’s coming with his army to help defend the Great Wall against our scheme!"
"..."
For a moment, the Necromancer was too stunned to say a thing. A moment later, his jaw creaked open as he spoke in a low, guttural voice.
"Do you have proof of this... treachery? Or is your accusation based on a baseless assumption?"
Just then—
BOOOOOOM!
A deafening explosion shook the battlefield as a figure plummeted from the sky and struck the ground like heaven’s wrath. The impact unleashed a brutal shockwave that tore through the enemy ranks, blasting hundreds of corpses into smithereens.
When the dust cleared, a tall and burly figure slowly walked out from the smoldering crater that he had carved into the earth with his fall.
He walked as if he had all the time in the world and has nothing to care about, showcasing the arrogance of the strong.
He was incredibly tall, and his hairless body was a mass of corded muscles packed beneath slick, slimy skin. Tribal tattoos covered every inch of his skin, and in his grip rested a colossal warhammer.
The Necromancer’s eyes widened as glints of recognition flashed across them. He reconginzed the newcomer at a glance.
"Mad Chieftain? Is what I am hearing true? Have you really gone mad?!" the Necromancer shouted, his voice echoing throughout the battlefield.
Even now, he didn’t want to believe that he had been betrayed.
’Even a master of dark arts failed to see through my disguise?’ Ray felt pleased but didn’t let his emotions show. ’The Mimic skill is ridiculously overpowered.’
He was mimicking the Mad Chieftain’s form to fool the Necromancer.
The goal was to scare it into a retreat.
Once the Great Wall was secure, he planned to move in for the kill.
He didn’t want to force it into a corner so close to a strategic stronghold.
What if it ended up having an adverse effect, like provoking it into unleashing something uncontrollable or self destructing? Wouldn’t that end up destroying the great wall?
He didn’t want to risk it!
Helping the Alliance of the Three was no different than helping himself. In the end, they shared the same enemy and the same goal, which was to halt the spread of demonic creatures by any means necessary.
"Are you asking if I betrayed you? See for yourself!"
Ray hurled his warhammer toward a fifteen-meter-tall bone giant in the distance.
The weapon spun through the air like a blazing comet and struck the bone giant square in the chest, shattering its ribcage.
It didn’t slow down as it kept spinning through the air and went ahead to strike its spine, shattering it too, causing it to come apart, fragments of bones scattering in all directions.
Just like that, one of the necromancer’s greatest trump card that he had raised with utmost care and devotion came undone before his very eyes, fueling his rage to unprecedented heights.