Chapter 90 - Farmland Skirmish

Mohawk dashed through the plain that separated the wall and the initial farmland in the distance. The people of Fressia had built their bunkers just ahead of the farmland, so they were able to get a good view of the Outer wall.

He was still confused as to why they had reacted the way they did, but he ignored all that and kept one goal at the forefront of his mind. He needed to nullify the threat that the archers posed to him and his people.

WHOOSH!

Another barrage of arrows flew from the archers' position, and straight at the wall. A good portion of those arrows were also aimed at him as well.

Mohawk's fingers wrapped around the middle of his staff, which he promptly drew above his head in a powerful spin. Thanks to his vastly boosted strength, the force generated from his spinning staff was enough to create a mighty gust of wind that changed the direction of the majority of the arrows heading his way. He easily dodged the rest of them, and continued on his way.

Barrage after barrage came in Mohawk's direction as he drew closer to the trenches. By now, most of the archers had turned their attention to him, but a good amount still focused on suppressing the army by the gates.

Thump!

Mohawk jumped down into the trenches where the archers were hiding, and was immediately met with a number of swordsmen and other close combat fighters that were prepared to fight with him.

CLANG!

The sound of his metal staff coming into contact with a sword rang through the narrow space as Mohawk fell back. He spun his staff by his side, before expertly strapping it to its spot on his back and pulling out two shortswords. His staff was too long to use in that narrow space, so he would have to switch to something better if he wanted to utilize all his advantages properly.

"Come at me." Mohawk grinned widely before twisting around to dodge the stab that had been aimed at his back. He quickly parried the strike before advancing on the human female that had made the move, but before he could, someone else pulled her to the side and stepped up to block Mohawk.

A faint corona of white light covered the blade of the man's sword, and Mohawk could feel the waves of power that radiated off the Werecat's form. He was at roughly the same level at Mohawk.

"Your opponent it me." The man stared at Mohawk rather intensely. There was nothing but anger and hate in his gaze, which perplexed Mohawk. Back at Kraetor, although the city guards were rather angry at being attacked all of a sudden, they had not shown the degree of hate that this Werecat was suddenly showing him.

"Might I ask your name? I need to know the names of those who are strong, even without bearing red hair." Mohawk stood for a moment, still surrounded by soldiers behind him. The soldiers effectively formed a sort of barrier between Mohawk and the archers, forcing him to face off against the Werecat before him.

"My name is Charles Skyhart. It will probably be the last name you hear before you die, so make sure you remember it." The Werecat, Charles, said before getting into a fighting stance.

Mohawk nodded before getting into his own stance. A faint red glow began to spread across the surface area of the blades of his shortswords, showing how serious he was. He usually never went this far with his techniques unless he was facing an opponent of worthy strength, or he was desperate. Charles qualified for a worthy opponent at this moment, so he decided that he would go all out from the very beginning.

Mohawk drew in a deep breath before dashing at Charles, who had decided to do the same. The moment their weapons collided, and immense explosion of sand, dirt, and dust flew up into the air far above the trenches. The rain of arrows against the wall halted for several seconds, before continuing, although the aim of the archers was a bit wobbly.

Mohawk and Charles however did not stop their exchange of attacks for even the shortest moment. In a dozen seconds, they had already exchanged over two dozen attacks.

Charles was highly skilled in the art of the sword, and the various martial arts that he displayed was a testament to his skill. He smoothly and effortlessly blended together a variety of different sword focused martial arts, putting up a constant twist of offense and defense that Mohawk seemed unable to break through.

'This looks like a tough nut to crack.' Mohawk inwardly smirked. As he thought this, his tail, which had always been wrapped tightly around his waist, unwrapped itself and smoothly slipped into a pocket on his thigh, pulling out a dagger which he kept hidden all this while.

In a short window where he had just exchanged moves with Charles, his tail swiftly shot forward and threw the dagger at Charles, forcing him to break up his flow in order to block that sudden strike.

Normally, that hidden move would not have been able to break Charles' flow, as he would have just dodged the blow, but at this moment, there was someone behind him, namely the woman who he had pulled back before. He had to stay in place and block the dagger, or else, according to the trajectory of the dagger, it would easily pierce through the gap at the bottom of her helmet, and just slightly above her chest piece, and plunge into her throat, spelling her doom.

Charles positioned his sword in a way that he could easily block the dagger, and still be in a position to block any follow up attack, but he suddenly felt something wrap around his ankle and tug him.

Mohawk grinned when he saw that Charles had put most of his attention on he dagger, and Mohawk's arms. He was well prepared for any other attack from Mohawk's weapons, but he was too used to fighting against opponents who did not use their tails as an extra limb that could assist them in battle.

He easily controlled his tail, making it wrap around Charles' ankle, before pulling his foot from under him, and destabilizing his stance.