Fireworks filled the sky, limbs were scattered everywhere, and the dead were scattered all over the ground.
Lev sat on the beach, utterly dejected, as if a giant bell was ringing in his head. He watched as Corwin shouted at him from right in front of him, but he couldn't hear anything.
"Get up! Get out of here!"
Some of the barbarian warriors' roars finally reached Lev's ears.
With the other man's help, the young pirate tried to stand up, but the sharp pain in his lower body caused him to scream and fall back to the ground.
The two looked down and saw a shard of glass, about the size of a palm, deeply embedded in Lev's thigh, with blood slowly flowing down the wound.
By the light of the fire on the beach, Corwin glanced at the depth of the wound, took a strip of cloth from his belt, tied it around Lev's thigh, and shouted at him, "Bear with it!"
Before the other party could react, Corwin suddenly pulled out the glass shard.
A piercing scream echoed across the beach.
One hour later.
The barbarian and pirate leaders directed their men to set up a temporary camp on the beach. The bodies of the dead and the wounded from the explosion were carried into the camp, but due to limited medical resources, the latter only received basic treatment.
Some of the wounded died slowly amidst pain and groans, but many more lost their ability to fight due to their injuries.
After counting the number of people, the leaders were saddened to discover that the explosion had directly or indirectly claimed 14 lives, and another 25 people were completely incapacitated. Adding the men lost at sea, the pirates and barbarians had already lost more than a third of their fighting force before even entering the town.
Someone suggested to the leader that they retreat, but this was immediately rejected.
The leaders unanimously agreed that if they returned hastily without bringing back any spoils of war, not only would the tribe's prestige be greatly damaged, but it would also provoke the hostility of their enemies.
By the campfire, the pirates of the North Island sang war songs beside the corpses of their fallen comrades. In the lyrics, the souls of the fallen returned to the temple of the god of war, drinking and feasting with the gods, eating meat and drinking wine, living a carefree life; while the barbarians smeared ink on their bodies, burned the corpses of their people into ashes, and put them into jars.
After a night's rest, this army from the north resumed its journey of conquest.
The town of Muxi at dawn resembled a ghost town, devoid of any human presence. The doors of the houses were wide open, revealing glimpses of miscellaneous items piled up inside; hay and pitchforks could be found in the livestock pens; and broken tables and chairs were scattered throughout the once bustling taverns.
The pirates and barbarians searched every house along the street, looking for anything of value. After their search, they found nothing but a few copper coins forgotten in the floorboards and cracks in the doors.
"We've been tricked by those Silver Ring Kingdom swindlers!" someone shouted angrily in the group. "This place isn't a treasure trove of riches at all!"
The leader frowned and led his soldiers forward until they finally arrived at a wide square.
Looking at the cross on a spire at the end of the square, the limping Lev asked Korwin beside him, "Is that the church?"
The latter gave him a strange look: "You've never seen a church before?"
"On the North Island, I've only seen some church ruins. Besides, this is my first time going to sea with a tribe."
The group walked to the church and saw a wooden sign standing at the entrance with the same words as those on the cross on the beach.
Watching the soldiers retreat, the leader sighed and gave the order to bypass the church.
Further on, the pirates and barbarians arrived at the commercial street of Muxi Town. The street grew narrower and narrower, with more and more buildings lining both sides. Lev muttered, "This place must have been very prosperous before."
Corwin nodded.
The two leaders walked and discussed what to do next.
Just then, a crossbow bolt shot straight down from the roof of a house not far away, accurately piercing the head of the barbarian chieftain.
The short, stout attacker, having successfully landed his attack, packed up his crossbow and quickly ran off into the distance along the wooden planks that had already been laid on the rooftops as "bridges."
The entire group stared in disbelief as their barbarian chieftain slowly collapsed, lifeless. After a moment of silence, the barbarian warriors roared, drew their weapons and shields, and charged towards the direction from which the attack had come.
"Stop! Stop!"
The pirate leader's loud shouts did nothing to calm these enraged avengers. Seeing that the situation was out of control, he had no choice but to rally the remaining warriors and charge forward with the barbarians.
Further on, the commercial street narrowed even further, allowing only three people to walk side by side. The barbarians, watching the crossbowmen running on the rooftops, quickened their pace in pursuit, but unknowingly entered a dead end.
Just as they were searching for a way out, hundreds of archers rose from the rooftops and unleashed a torrential downpour of arrows at the enemy thronging the street.
Unexpectedly, coupled with the lack of a leader, the barbarians suffered a fatal blow within seconds, with hordes of warriors falling like mowing grass. Only the arrival of the pirate leader effectively reversed this one-sided situation.
"Raise your shields! Crouch down! Stick to the wall! Get out! Get out!"
After paying the price of dozens of lives, the enraged barbarian finally walked out of this "street of death".
The number of pirate and barbarian troops fighting has decreased from 500 when they first set sail to less than 250.
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