The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess-Chapter 88: An ambush by mercenaries

Late at night, outside the city at the roadside inn, the small carts could not be brought within the inn’s walls and were piled outside instead.

Phield had brought no guards. He stood outside with two Divine Chosen, chatting while rummaging through the cargo on the wagons.

"Has she already left?" Phield searched every empty barrel but found no trace of Sylvia. "Not even a goodbye."

Ashina’s nose twitched, a teasing expression appearing on her face. "There’s a lingering scent of a female beastkin—smells like a weak cat-eared Demei-human. Very faint... with a hint of urine. She must have been frightened."

Phield stared in shock. "You can even notice that? That’s incredible."

Even Florine had failed to discover Sylvia’s presence.

"Damn it, another demi-human trying to get close to Phield. And I was actually worried about you," Rosalia huffed angrily, stamping her foot.

"Let me explain," Phield rubbed his temples, looking amused. "I was handling serious business."

"I’m sorry... can I have something to eat?" A filthy little homeless girl stepped out from the darkness, tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. She trembled as she approached Phield, carrying a tattered vegetable basket. "Please... I haven’t eaten in three days."

"Of course."

Phield instinctively reached into his pocket, preparing to give her two copper coins.

"Danger!" As the girl stepped forward, Ashina’s pupils suddenly shrank, and she lunged toward Phield.

In the next instant, several red butterflies shot out from the girl’s sleeve.

With a violent flash of light—"Boom!"—a deafening explosion erupted. Towering flames burst skyward, and the rolling heatwave turned the surroundings into a blazing hell. The little girl herself was instantly torn apart by the blast.

Three mercenaries rushed into the flames, swords in hand, wearing leather armor.

"That mage’s spell is terrifying—just grab any little girl and the job’s done."

"Heh, hurry up and find the body so we can claim the bounty."

"What if he got blown to pieces?"

As the three looked around, a figure appeared silently behind them, carrying a grotesque greatsword, killing intent undisguised in his eyes.

The mercenaries felt a chill at their backs. When they turned and saw Phield, the Greatsword of Gluttony radiated a terrifying aura. The writhing eyeballs upon it stared at them without blinking.

Panic struck them instantly.

"W-What is that?"

"The intel was wrong—damn it, we’ve been tricked!"

They were completely stunned. The magical fluctuations emanating from Phield, along with the horrifying greatsword in his hand, made their hearts sink.

"Delivered right to my doorstep as a midnight snack. I was just getting hungry."

Rosalia’s voice echoed by his ear—she had already merged into the Greatsword of Gluttony, now entirely under Phield’s control.

"Of course, they must die."

They had ambushed him and even used an innocent little girl. They were asking for death.

Without mercy, Phield swung his blade sideways. The dense, corrupted killing intent condensed to the extreme; with a casual slash, all three mercenaries—armor and bodies alike—were cleaved cleanly in half.

Their screams were agonized beyond words. Corrupted divine power surged through their remaining bodies, torturing their souls. For a moment, even death was beyond their reach.

"Damn it! Back to camp!" Bloodhand, watching from dozens of miles away through hawk-eye magic, saw everything clearly.

Two mercenaries beside him mounted their horses immediately, and the three of them galloped toward the nearest forest.

The guards at the inn thought it was an enemy attack and rushed outside, only to see Phield standing there.

His expression was darker than ever. Countless possibilities flashed through his mind, only to be discarded. He was no soft target to be bullied at will.

"If I don’t personally slaughter every last one of you, I’ll eat shit."

If not for the two Divine Chosen present, he might really have died. Human bombs were far too hard to guard against.

"Ashina, can you track their scent?"

"I can." Ashina summoned the Drakewolf, letting it memorize the mercenaries’ smell.

"Ashina, stay here and guard the inn. I’ll borrow the Drakewolf first."

Phield mounted the giant wolf and sped into the distance.

Bloodhand returned to the temporary camp, where the mercenaries were indulging in their usual entertainment.

"Bitch, still acting tough? I asked where Paul went and you still won’t talk—I’ll find out anyway!"

Two mercenaries kicked a naked woman repeatedly until her face was bruised and swollen.

"W-Wuu... I’m sorry..." she barely forced out a few words before another round of blows fell upon her.

"Paul was recruited by Kuchi, and Phield also asked about Paul... isn’t that too much of a coincidence?" The red-robed mage muttered lazily. "Could it be that Phield intercepted Kuchi? No, impossible. That kind of trash isn’t even worthy of carrying our lord’s shoes."

"Hey, useless mage, your magic didn’t do anything!"

Bloodhand’s face stiffened. He dismounted and strode forward to demand answers—three of his brothers had died in an instant. He rarely suffered losses this severe.

"The baron you told us to kill didn’t die in the blast. He killed three of my men in a single moment."

"Did you attack the wrong person?" The red-robed mage stood up in disbelief, about to argue—when he saw a figure approaching slowly from afar.

Under the dim moonlight, the ferocious Drakewolf looked like a monstrous beast beneath the massive moon. Phield carried his brutal greatsword over his shoulder and sneered. "So this is where you’ve been hiding. Took me long enough to find you."

"Holy shit!"

So fast! Bloodhand panicked. After countless killings, his instincts were razor-sharp.

Right now, those instincts screamed at him—run. Don’t look back.

"Weren’t we the ones who rode back on horses?"

His subordinates were dumbfounded. One tried to mount up and flee, but before he could even grab the reins, Phield landed lightly on the ground. Chains from the Greatsword of Gluttony shot out, wrapping around the mercenary and lifting him high into the air.

Phield smiled coldly. "Didn’t you come to kill me? Why are you running now that I’m standing right in front of you?"

In the next moment, the chains tightened violently.

"Ahhh!"

Amid the screams, the bound mercenary was crushed into a shapeless mass of blood and flesh.

This is power... even if it belongs to Rosalia, it feels incredible.

"Holy shit!"

The remaining mercenaries nearly wet themselves. They had killed countless people, but the aura surrounding Phield now was utterly terrifying. It was their first time witnessing such brutal slaughter—someone being exploded apart by chains alone.

"He’s only first-tier strength. Nothing to be afraid of!" Bloodhand shouted stubbornly, retreating backward while ordering his men to attack.

Two mercenaries of first-tier strength charged forward immediately.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Phield casually hurled the Greatsword of Gluttony. Under Rosalia’s control, the blade moved like a steel serpent, swiftly shredding the two men into fragments. Pure life energy was absorbed into the greatsword.

"Demon! You... you’re a demon!"