School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 170 --The Demon Ape Reappears

He wanted to fly a kite once more.

Just then, an arrow flew towards him from the side.

It was Isaac, who had taken cover behind the blazing warehouse, seizing the opportunity to send an arrow his way, aiming straight for the eyes.

The general, unable to block in time, could only dodge by turning his head.

As a result, his spear deviated by two inches, and he also missed the chance to execute the subsequent maneuver.

Merely two inches.

His hand was steady enough, and leaning back did not prevent the tip of the spear from leaping forward, still aiming for Owen’s chin like a venomous snake.

Yet, the young man before him, with both hands on his halberd, made an upward sweep in a diagonal lift, committing a mistake typical of beginners.

Such a move was strenuous and thankless – if successful, it would only deflect the spear shaft; if not, it risked being pierced through the cheek by the long spear, offering little countermeasure against the enemy’s follow-up.

However, Owen’s movements were swift as lightning, executing a technique the general could not clearly discern, only perceiving a blur before his eyes.

The general’s subordinates saw them pass by each other, a light as of woven snowflakes nearly blinding them—

When the weapons clashed, the trident, which had been unassuming until now, finally unleashed a dense murderous intent, like a fierce tiger that had been lurking for a long time, suddenly pouncing forth.

Both men charged towards each other, with little time to react, what is known as a fleeting moment.

The general felt a lightness in his hand, followed by several objects soaring into the air—

An arm; A spray of angry blood; And half of a long spear flying out, its break exceptionally clean.

The general screamed in pain as blood gushed from his severed arm like a fountain.

Meanwhile, his opponent remained unscathed, turning his horse around for another charge.

His subordinates were shocked:

"Lord Jeff is injured!"

"Protect Lord Jeff!"

Dozens of people rushed forward, enveloping the injured "Lord Jeff" within layers of protection.

With an arm severed and blood ceaselessly streaming from his right shoulder, the pain caused him to collapse forward.

Had his personal guards not intervened timely, he would have nearly fallen prey to a stealth attack by Mallo of the rockwolf race—a creature known for leaping to bite at the throats of its victims.

Both shocked and enraged, amidst his severe pain, he did not forget to hurl insults at Owen.

He had been careless.

This man with a trident appeared too ordinary, no different from the dozen or so soldiers he had slain before.

He was, unexpectedly, a wolf hidden amongst sheep.

That trident... that eerily sharp trident had effortlessly snapped his trusty cold iron spear, a companion of many years, upon their first clash!

With such a divine weapon in hand, could he be an ordinary figure?

Why then disguise himself in common attire, blending in with the scattered ranks of the army?

Lord Jeff felt as though he had reached for a peach in a tree, only to grasp something entirely different, and upon looking up, found the furious visage of a lion mere inches away...

People of status pride themselves on their position, so why was this adversary so shamelessly disrespectful?

While the opponent’s insults were vile, Owen simply responded with a raised middle finger, knowing his successful strike was partly due to Isaac’s arrow distracting his foe.

But in a melee, what place was there for notions of fair play or one-on-one combat?

All who could fight should, and no opportunity should be missed.

He felt not the slightest bit dishonorable about his victory.

Victory required using every means at one’s disposal.

Besides, even without Isaac’s intervention, his thrust was not something Lord Jeff could have withstood.

At that moment, Owen’s military orders finally started to ripple through the ranks, with shouts echoing everywhere: "Only a hundred cavalry from Easthaven Realm!"

With the supply team vastly outnumbering them, there was nothing to fear!

The generals of the Cloud Domain finally managed to rally their troops and began to mount a counterattack.

Despite the supply team having the advantage in numbers, the Easthaven Realm army had penetrated deep into enemy territory with insufficient depth in their charge.

Their initial fierce assault did not achieve the expected impact and soon faced the prospect of diminishing momentum, leading to exhaustion in successive waves.

Once the dynamics of attack and defense shifted, this surprise force from Easthaven Realm might well be encircled and overwhelmed.

Both sides were acutely aware of this critical juncture.

Thus, even with his right arm lost, blood streaming down his shoulder, and his complexion pale, the injured general still commanded his men to attack Owen and his group with all their might.

He had been helped off his horse but fought against the encroaching unconsciousness, with his personal guard attempting to staunch his bleeding.

"Capture the leader first," Lord Jeff understood clearly in his heart: Today’s ambush hit a snag, primarily because the supreme commander of the supply team was still alive!

The Easthaven Realm forces did not expect that the officer in charge of the supply team would skip the banquet.

They had failed to cut off the snake’s head, merely chopping off a tip of its tail.

Owen himself did not anticipate that his decision for a discreet visit to understand the common folk’s plight would save him from disaster.

Otherwise, he would have been the one lying dead in the tavern.

The battle was intensifying on both sides.

They wanted him dead, and Owen was equally determined to claim their lives.

With a grand gesture, he announced a bounty right there on the battlefield: "A hundred taels of gold for the enemy general’s head!"

In response to the northern conflict, the Cloud Domain had reissued a conscription decree, significantly increasing the soldiers’ salaries.

Yet, even the most dedicated soldier, risking his life daily, could hardly earn more than twenty silver pieces a year, a sum already considered a high salary locally.

A hundred taels of gold amounted to fifty years of income for these soldiers!

With such a hefty reward, brave warriors would surely emerge, especially as the tide of battle was already turning.

In the eyes of the Cloud Domain soldiers, the severely wounded enemy general suddenly turned into a glittering bar of gold.

This perception ignited the morale of the supply team, unleashing an explosive surge of energy.

By contrast, Lord Jeff, with his less substantial financial resources, seemed to be at a disadvantage.

Fortunately, at this moment, a monkey eating an apple appeared atop a wagon in the rear of the Cloud Domain army.

This brown-skinned monkey, wearing a thorny collar and looking plumper than its kin, seemed ordinary at first glance.

However, the rockwolf beside Owen, as if catching a scent, suddenly turned its head and started barking furiously at it.

Mallo’s unusual behavior immediately alerted Owen, who then turned his gaze in that direction.

To him, monkeys around the world mostly looked alike, but the thorny collar around its neck seemed eerily familiar.

Where had he seen it before?

If only he could get a closer look...

Enlarge?

The thought struck Owen, his pupils dilating as he suddenly burst out, raising his voice like the first thunder of spring, warning everyone, "Beware of the demon ape, it’s behind us!"

Before his words could fully sink in, the monkey rapidly expanded, transforming from its original size, smaller than a human, into a giant ape over ten feet tall, with bulging muscles—a sight that instantly overwhelmed the onlookers.

The unfortunate horse beneath it let out a mournful cry as the wagon collapsed under the beast’s weight, now exceeding two thousand pounds.

This creature was an old acquaintance, no, an old nemesis of Owen’s, known as the demon ape.

It was the chief enforcer of the one called the Demon Puppeteer, Boswell.

Owen had injured it in their last encounter, after which the Demon Puppeteer had fled with it, disappearing without a trace.

Despite extensive searches by the authorities, there had been no sign of them until now.

No sooner had the demon ape transformed than it began to hurl heavy objects at will—wagons, horses, supplies, or even pulling up wooden fences to smash down upon the center of the supply team!

That was where Bunyon, the current commanding officer of the supply team, was positioned.

Following Timothos’s death, as the second-in-command, Bunyon naturally assumed leadership.

Owen, not very familiar with the intricacies of the supply team, had wisely delegated command to him.

This was the demon ape’s innate skill: every object it threw was heavy and forceful, each with a ferocity that seemed to cut through the air.

And frustratingly, its accuracy was deadly precise, requiring no practice whatsoever.

Bunyon was protected in the middle, surrounded by his men like stars around the moon, with glimmers of light nearby—likely someone activating a magical formation to shield him from stray arrows and hidden attacks.

The demon ape, about twenty meters away, launched its projectiles in parabolas.

They gained potential energy from their height, crashing down with a series of relentless thuds, shaking the ground even several meters away.

It also flung several wagons full of grain into the mix.

The bags burst open mid-air, scattering dust everywhere, as if a snowstorm had suddenly descended.

Dozens of people huddled around Bunyon couldn’t escape in time and were instantly buried under a heap of debris.

With just a glance, Owen saw someone knocked down by a flying horse, only their legs twitching outside the pile of chaos.

The scene turned into utter pandemonium.

Soldiers of the Cloud Domain, stricken with horror, instinctively scattered, none wishing to attract the wrath of the heavy-object-hurling demon ape.

This disruption caused their formation to collapse.

The Easthaven Realm army, spotting their chance, was overjoyed.

Lord Jeff rallied his troops, commanding a charge against the supply team.

Opportunities like this were fleeting—who didn’t understand that?

Owen instructed the rockwolf with a brief, "Find Boswell and tear him apart!" before spurring his horse towards Bunyon’s location.

At that moment, the Cloud Domain army unleashed a barrage of arrows, raining down upon the demon ape.

Though no one dared to approach, launching a few long-range attacks posed no problem.

However, the demon ape seemed utterly indifferent to the assault.

Its body was naturally armored with bone plates, rendering ordinary arrows useless as they snapped upon impact.

It only needed to protect its eyes carefully.

What puzzled the Cloud Domain soldiers was that their arrows, imbued with special arcanergy designed to penetrate the defenses of monsters with an additional armor-breaking effect, seemed ineffective against this giant ape.

As the troops were daunted by its formidable presence, the demon ape skipped its signature chest-beating gesture, leaping twice to land in the center of the field.

Raising its iron fists high, it prepared to pummel the pile of debris ruthlessly.

Whether Bunyon was alive or dead, it intended to deliver a coup de grâce.

Given its muscular physique, no one doubted the devastating force of its punches.

Anyone trapped beneath the rubble, if not already dead, would likely be reduced to nothing more than a pancake after a few strikes.