The Martial Unity

Aina's agility couldn't be matched by these normal soldiers. A single sweep of her ax took five lives at a minimum, sometimes as much as ten.

With Leonel's support to her back, she entered the fray without hesitation. She was maybe a little too reckless. Leonel could only watch on with a cold sweat matting his back, throwing out as many spears as he could as quickly as he could.

Reaching over toward his barrel, Leonel realized that he had run out. He could only sprint back down and grab another, carrying it up with him.

'This isn't good. The plan is working almost too well…'

Leonel threw out another spear, reaping yet another life.

A striking problem was becoming obvious to him. The Englishmen's first line had been disrupted so thoroughly that even the most forward of them hadn't crossed the third line of defense yet.

Because of that, Aina, who had already been their target from the beginning, wasn't receiving the support of the Frenchmen who stood in a daze as though they were watching the work of gods.

Because of the spikes, charging forward now would disrupt their advantage. It was best if they waited at the end of the last line of defense to begin their own slaughter. But since Leonel's trap and Aina's prowess was too overpowering, the enemy was nowhere near reaching that goal.

This might sound like a good thing, but Leonel's calculative mind saw that it most definitely wasn't. The way things were going now, Aina would be under too much pressure. He only had one arm to throw with, it was impossible for him to cover her perfectly. Though his high coordination gained him an ambidextrous ability, he needed his left arm to use his shield.

'Dammit.'

"ARCHERS, TAKE DOWN THAT MAN!"

man could so accurately throw a spear, and such low quality ones at that. But, they could only accept what was

by their very nature, were located near the back of an army. As such, they were the least

of a battlefield as a normal human was impossible. Medieval armies usually relied on a combination of horn

sent down the orders for the appropriate signal, their entire front line was unrecognizable. A ghastly scene of bisected bodies, pools of blood and organs, and

"Aina! Retreat!"

the Englishmen, Leonel's body was no longer normal. His

shock,

was always talking about his

effective range of 200 meters at best. There's only about 150 meters between me and

tower, grabbing another barrel of

of arrows fell toward his

his back was in fact of the D-grade. But, this small shield was a C-grade treasure

An instant later, its size increased tenfold, forming a

the

every clink of an arrow that rebounded from his shield, he drew a picture in his mind… Its trajectory,

arrow was projected into his mind, drawing a perfect line from its contact point to where the bowman who let it loose

onto a target. Two fingers reached down toward his right, plucking a dart out of

the dart to spin

perfect synchronization, the dart's spin was halted by the appearance of the atlatl, slotting into place as though finding

shield. In the same instant, his right arm whipped forward,