My Fusion System: Fusing Weak Soldiers with Direwolves at the Start-Chapter 38: Robbing The Robbers

Within the thick shadows of the forest, twenty bandits crouched like vultures awaiting a wounded prey. The red, tattered cloths over their heads gave them a ghostly, ritualistic look, faces hidden except for sharp, focused eyes. Leather cuirasses covered their torsos, blackened and battered from years of conflict, with iron spikes adorning their pauldrons like savage thorns.

Their arms rippled with lean muscle, each man gripping a twin-bladed axe that had tasted both coin and blood.

These weren’t mere highway thugs. Every one of them had the posture of killers, Novice-ranked axemen at the very least, honed by years of bush skirmishes and town raids. They had watched Kaelor’s caravan for a full day, hidden like shadows among the trees, gauging the convoy, identifying strengths and weaknesses.

And all eyes had eventually locked on that, the massive, chained beast with three heads and molten fury in its eyes.

The bandits weren’t fools. That beast was the keystone. Remove it, and the rest would crumble.

Beneath a twisted old tree stood their leader, a bald brute wrapped in a red sash that covered the lower half of his face. Unlike the others, his torso was bare, revealing skin crisscrossed with scars. His right arm, from shoulder to fist, was no longer flesh, it had become rock, jagged and cracked like volcanic stone, with hardened spikes jutting from his shoulder. The massive saber slung over his back pulsed faintly, as though it hungered for battle.

Fennon. Skilled with the saber.

He glared at the lumbering Titan on the road below, his voice sharp as flint: "Now." freёweɓnovel_com

The command cracked through the air like a whip.

The bandit manning the ballista, hidden under a camouflaged tarp, pulled the lever with a grunt. The massive steel bolt shrieked through the air like thunder given form, its tip forged to pierce even the thickest of hides. It aimed straight for the face of the beast Kaelor rode upon.

THUNK!

The bolt struck with terrifying force, burying itself into Titan’s mouth with a sickening crunch that echoed through the valley. The bandit at the lever raised a fist with a triumphant whoop. "A hit! It’s down! We got it!"

But his grin froze mid-expression.

A deep, wet gurgle sounded across the field.

From the dusty cloud, one of Titan’s heads emerged, its maw twisted into something that could only be called amusement. With a guttural sound, it spat the mangled remains of the ballista bolt onto the dirt.

The bolt clattered to the ground, warped and splintered like a child’s toy.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then Titan stepped forward.

Chains dragging behind it, the beast let out a low, unified growl across all three throats. Each head focused in a different direction, one at the ballista, another at the trees, and the third... on Fennon.

Fennon narrowed his eyes. Heat steaming from his fingers to his elbow. "That thing... it’s no mere beast," he muttered.

The bandits began to step back instinctively, but Fennon roared, "Stand your ground!" His voice was loud, ferocious, and heavy with command. "Leave the beast to me, take care of those wolf men!"

The rest of the bandits, those perched in the trees and those standing behind Fennon, launched a disorganized assault the moment he bolted from the shadows of the forest.

Fennon leaned forward, dashing toward the line of Dreadclaws who were deflecting the occasional arrow with their massive sabers. As he drew closer, only a few meters away from the white-furred warrior, his eyes narrowed.

Hound’s presence alone was intimidating. His towering frame, reverse-jointed limbs, and the calm ferocity in his blood-red eyes gave off an aura of pure domination.

Their eyes locked.

Just then, Hound slashed an arrow in two with his saber, spun, and launched one of his massive legs toward Fennon like a spring-loaded battering ram.

Fennon didn’t retreat. He clenched his volcanic right hand, glowing like molten magma, and unleashed a full-powered punch fueled by the strength of a high-level Adept with a gift.

The impact cracked the earth.

A shockwave burst out, rippling the air with a dull boom.

Dust billowed up and when it cleared, the scene stunned the slaves and bandits alike.

Fennon lay at the center of a newly formed pit. His famed volcanic arm was mangled beyond recognition. His shoulder blade had snapped and jutted grotesquely out of his flesh, while several ribs had cracked and collapsed inward. Blood poured from his mouth, and his eyes had already lost their focus.

The Volcanic Demon was dead.

Hound growled, his chest rising and falling slowly. Burn marks marred the fur on his lower limbs, but his calm expression showed no hint of pain. His physique had crossed the threshold, he had broken into the Master Rank.

Had Fennon used his saber techniques instead of relying purely on brute force, the fight might have lasted longer. But his overconfidence in his volcanic arm had sealed his fate.

With their leader dead, the remaining bandits were seized by panic.

Fear overwhelmed them.

They turned to run but it was already too late.

Titan leapt from behind the Dreadclaws, all three heads snapping and ripping through flesh like parchment. In less than ten minutes, nearly a dozen bandits had been torn apart. Their iron-ranked weapons couldn’t so much as properly dent the beast’s overlapping silver-ranked armor.

Blood soaked the dry road.

Some fled through the forest, crashing through bushes, screaming in terror.

But one man remained, the same one who had fired the ballista. He stood frozen, trembling like a leaf in a storm, his limbs shaking uncontrollably as Titan loomed above him, casting a long, ominous shadow.

All three heads devoured him in the next moment, crunching bone, flesh, and armor alike. Titan didn’t stop. Still ravenous, the beast turned sharply, about to lunge into the forest in pursuit of the fleeing bandits when Kaelor’s voice rang out, crisp and firm.

"Sit."

Titan halted mid-step, one clawed foot raised off the ground. All three heads turned back, blood dripping from their jaws. The beast let out a deep, guttural growl, but after a tense moment, it obeyed.

With a heavy thud, Titan sat on its haunches, though its reptilian tail still twitched with agitation.

The slaves trembled. Some could no longer meet Kaelor’s gaze. Murmurs spread through the lines, quiet oaths whispered in fear, swearing never to earn their master’s wrath. This man, this calm figure, commanded a bloodthirsty monster.

When Kaelor finally stepped before the bloodied scene, he let his gaze sweep the forest floor.

’It’s brutal,’ he thought, glancing at Titan with an unreadable expression. Even he had to admit, this creation of his was something terrifying.

He exhaled softly, then cleared his throat.

"We can’t have materials wasted. Take their armor and weapons. Bring the ballista too."

Though his tone remained calm, Kaelor paused for a moment, watching his men move. A faint, almost amused thought flickered through his mind.

’Feels strange... robbing the robbers.’

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