Adventures of the last Wild Dragon

Chapter 249 249: Fighting Retreat

The expedition set off in the morning, contrary to their excited and eager mood when they first arrived at the dungeon, the returning adventures held a somber mood thanks to their numbers being cut nearly in half.

It had been a devastating loss of life, loosing so many talented Lords would also be quite the hit to the City of Cragkieth's military might.

Whilst adventures technically weren't part of the military of a city, during times of disaster or need, such as a beast tide or something similar adventures would be called up to aid the city in their defense. And whilst their was hundreds of Lords residing in a city like Cragkieth, the ones that had gone on this expedition were some of the brightest talents.

Still whilst they started off in a dour mood the prospect of returning alive after such an ordeal did help ease the tension some felt. Yet the leaders did not allow themselves that luxury. Firstly was the case of having to dedicate someone to help carry Lavern, given his usually rotund size it required one of the stronger warriors to do so.

Then they had to ensure that they would not be ambushed on their way back, people naturally felt more relaxed on the return trip, yet that very fact could make it much more dangerous as this comfort could cause them to become lax in their vigil.

But for the first day of travel everything seemed to be going fine, they did not encounter any beasts as they traveled even when they set up camp for the night all seemed peaceful.

Saddly that was not to last.

Around an hour after they had set up camp and the first shift of adventures had taken their rest trouble found them.

It came swiftly and decisively.

The first trace of the attack came with the crack of space breaking, followed by the thud of one of the sentries heads falling to the ground, shortly followed by his body a moment later.

The cries of attack swiftly roused the adventures, who rushed out to bare witness to a relatively small force of Apostals of Space rushing away from the camp ground, only after they had successfully killed yet another adventure in their swift sneak attack.

A flurry of attacks raced after their fleeing forms, some adventures even wanting to chase after them yet were stopped by the call of Odrin.

"Stop! No one case after them! We cannt follow, it is no doubt a trap they would lure us into." He paused then, looking at the freshly killed adventures lying on the floor in a growing pool of blood with a grimace.

After that the watch was doubled, with at least two of the high leveled Lords awake at all times. That would tire them out in the long run, but if only for a couple of days they could make do with limited to no sleep.

After that the adventures tried to get some more sleep, yet they were once more awoken with yet another small raid around an hour after the first.

This pattern only repeated itself as the night slowly passed, a small scale attack would be launched, hoping to catch at least one person off guard. Then once everyone had been roused the apostals would swiftly retreat. It was infuriating and ensured that no one was allowed to rest properly as the night progressed.

A total of 5 attacks happened that first night. With a total of 4 adventures dying and a further 2 suffering serious injuries that could not be healed quickly or easily by the present healers.

The mood in the morning was grimmer than it was the previous day. As the day progressed that grim mood only grew worse.

The adventures were constant being attacked by small skirmishing forces of apostles. Sometimes they would attack from the front, the next from a side passage or the ceiling, then from the back. It was a constant pressure that forced every person present to stay on constant alert least they be caught out of place.

They naturally managed to kill dozens of the creatures, sometimes even wiping out the entire raiding party if they made the mistake of attacking a section with one of the three high level lords or Violet's team. As such they opted to split up these 4 forces.

Violet and her friends took up the right side of the formation, Val and hers took the left. Masin held the rear of the group whilst Odrin guilded them all from the front. Lavern was situated in the very middle of the group along with the other wounded people.

Whilst he was still graciously wounded, he was still a high level defense focused Lord. His abilities and skills enabled him to bolster the defenses of anyone with a set distance from him. Granted that was limited when he himself was unable to move, still it was a worthy boost and meant that the adventures moved in a tight formation so as to ensure that they all stayed within the protective radius of his skills.

Despite their best intentions the group was forced to move slowly, the constant ambushes prevented them from rushing. So when the day came to an end they were still quite some distance from the city.

They were left with a tough choice to make. Either camp out and likely get ambushed through the night, or push on through the night.

By this point everyone was tired, both physically and mentally. Having had practically no sleep the previous night coupled with having to constantly stay alert and aware through the entire day had greatly worn down the assembled adventures.

But despite their exhaustion they all shared the same desire to return to the safety of the city more than anything else. So the decision was made to travel through the night, not stopping until they were once more within the city walls.

So they continued on, as did the ambushes.

The only thing that changed was the intensity and frequency of attacks.

Where at the start only 3-4 apostles atta led at a time with an hour or two between attacks. By now it was a near constant stream of combatants rushing towards them.

From the steady advance sepersted by intermittent breaks of combat, now it was a constant and brutal fighting retreat.

The creatures still came from every angle, never attacking the same side twice in a row. Yet never allowing anyone time to fully recover in between attacks.

Their night had turned into a never ending fighting retreat that would push them all to their limits.