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!"

Englishmen had noticed Leonel's impact on the battle. They could scarcely believe that a man could so accurately throw a spear, and such low

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

a normal human was impossible. Medieval armies usually relied on a

their entire front line was unrecognizable. A ghastly scene of bisected bodies, pools of blood and organs, and men with tears in their eyes painted a terrible

"Aina! Retreat!"

Leonel's body was no longer normal. His voice carried a weight that theirs

Leonel's shock,

She was always talking about

of 200 meters at best. There's only about 150 meters between me and them, though. They can definitely hit me from here. Dammit,

down the siege tower, grabbing another

rain of arrows fell toward his direction, but

before that Aina's judgement was a bit off. The spear on his back was in fact of the D-grade. But, this small shield was a C-grade treasure with just one

arm above his head. An instant later, its size increased tenfold, forming a

the shield, not leaving even the slightest dent. How could weapons of the 15th century damage a

moment, with every clink of an arrow that rebounded from his shield, he drew a picture in his

line from its contact point to

fingers reached down toward his right,

shield still above his head, he flicked his fingers upward, causing the dart to spin for a brief moment to his side as he ripped

the appearance of the atlatl, slotting into place as

instant, his right arm whipped forward, using the swinging momentum of his left to its advantage to send a silver dart streaking through the air at over 200 kilometers an

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