Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 569 - 349: Enthusiastic Locals_1

In fact, Ascension Sect followers often roamed the wilderness around Hamlet. However, they were mostly ordinary cultists, many even poorly equipped.

The ones launching this night attack, however, were all Elites who had undergone numerous Flesh Rites for Strengthening and earned the right to wear full gear.

This situation was primarily due to Hamlet's new Lord. Lance had killed the Witch, led soldiers to purge several Ascension Sect camps in the wilderness, and severed their connection with Ovando.

Subsequently, large-scale wilderness development projects often involved squads of soldiers sweeping the area. This continuously shrank the cultists' operational space, and ordinary followers were almost certain to die if encountered.

While they never feared death—on the contrary, they revered it—this was a notion brainwashed into the rank-and-file followers. The Ascension Sect's leadership still understood that this attrition wasn't sustainable.

Since then, the Ascension Sect had changed tactics. No longer gathering in large numbers and presenting easy targets, they abandoned all their camps. Instead, they dispatched Elite cultists in small squads to infiltrate the wilderness and harass Hamlet's construction efforts.

It must be said these methods had some effect, forcing Lance to station part of his army on the periphery to strengthen border defenses while also organizing teams to hunt them down.

These Ascension Cultists were clearly roaming the wilderness, specifically preying on refugees entering the area or abducting them. It was uncertain whether they were converted into new followers to bolster their ranks or simply to fill their bellies. Their appearance here could only be chalked up to a chance encounter with Warwolf's squad.

In the eyes of these deranged individuals, the enemy's origin and strength were irrelevant details.

Anyone appearing near Hamlet was part of their ritual: either kill them to receive their god's grace, or be killed and Ascend to become part of their god.

Killing stronger opponents granted divine favor, making them fearless of pain and their Flesh incorruptible.

The Barbarian warriors were Fanatics of the Wolf God, just as these Ascension Cultists were Fanatics of the Evil God.

Since both sides were fanatical, a complete frenzy was inevitable!

"ROAR!" Warwolf bellowed, swinging his Battle Axe at a Heretic Warrior.

He was already incredibly frustrated by recent events, and these emerging enemies would undoubtedly become the outlet for his wrath.

Holding nothing back, his arms swelled with the exertion, their muscles bulging like gnarled tree roots, visible even in the dim light.

The immense strength behind his Battle Axe unleashed horrifying power. The Heretic Warrior tried to block it with both hands raised, but could twenty years of accumulated power stop this blow?

The axe blade cleaved straight down, splitting the man in half from head to toe. Blood and Flesh sprayed everywhere; organs scattered as if from an explosion, and even the still-pulsating heart was visible.

The brutally mutilated corpse was a stark testament to Warwolf's strength. This was the Wolf God's chosen! This was a Champion!

Yet, these Heretics cared nothing for any Champion; they just charged.

The death of the first Heretic didn't instill fear; on the contrary, the sight of blood and Flesh fueled their madness even more.

The Heretic Warriors charged with ferocious laughter. Warwolf's display also drew the attention of certain special Heretics within their ranks, and a low incantation began in the darkness, tragically unnoticed in the heat of battle.

As the Heretics charged, the White Wolves on the perimeter were the first to attack.

Darting forward, a White Wolf pounced, aiming to tackle a Heretic and then go for the throat—a tactic honed over countless fights. Once a human fell, they posed little threat.

But these were Elite Heretics. Being killed in one blow by Warwolf only highlighted his strength, not their weakness.

Indeed, their combat capabilities were considerable. Facing the charging White Wolf, the Heretic showed no intention of dodging, instead raising iron claws to meet the attack.

The White Wolf's pounce, its hundred-pound body transformed into a forceful impact, made the Heretic stagger. The wolf's claws raked across his bare chest, tearing through tough skin and carving a bloody, mangled wound.

But the Heretic Warrior's iron claws pierced the White Wolf's chest simultaneously, making it seem as if the wolf had impaled itself.

With a grunt of effort, the Heretic Warrior lifted the White Wolf. The iron claws sliced deeper into wolf Flesh, causing the animal to struggle and whimper pitifully. Blood streamed down the iron claws onto the Heretic Warrior, who laughed maniacally.

"All things decay, only I shall Ascend!"

Wolf blood spattered onto the Heretic Warrior. It wasn't clearly visible in the darkness, but a macabre scene unfolded: the wounds he had just sustained sprouted fleshy tendrils that devoured the wolf blood, and the gashes healed with unnatural speed.

It wasn't strange for these Heretics' Flesh to be regenerative, but if Lance had been present, he would have noticed the unnatural speed of their healing.

However, it was logical that followers cultivated by their Progenitor with the Power of Flesh and Blood could absorb Flesh and blood to regenerate.

The Heretics felt the power from the wolf blood but didn't revel in it; only more death could draw their god's attention.

He flung aside the White Wolf—pierced through heart and lungs but not yet dead—and turned to join other battles.

When the Heretics launched their night attack, the Barbarian warriors reacted quickly. Almost all of them grabbed their weapons and charged at the enemy.

The weapons used by the Barbarian Tribes' warriors varied. Spears were the most common, being highly effective against wild beasts. Accustomed to Spears since childhood, many warriors didn't bother much with other captured equipment, though some also used knives, Daggers, or Crossbows.