Chapter 130: A Slightly More Relaxed Fourth Day

Compared to the arduous and desperate resistance Kevin and his men were putting up, the bandits were also experiencing a great deal of frustration. Failing to break through after a prolonged assault was a test of willpower for both sides; no matter how fearless of death they were, watching their own casualties mount made them restless. They began to badger their "chamber pot mage" with questions: "What’s going on? Why can’t we take them down?" "Aren't our weapons enchanted?" "Exactly, where is our protagonist halo?" "Is it really possible to treat the main characters this brutally?"

After a barrage of complaints, Robes felt a splitting headache. Only after they finally quieted down did he begin to pacify them: "You must realize that the harder a boss is to defeat, the better the equipment you get in the end. Think about it: if they can hold us off for so long just with that vehicle, imagine how much stronger we would be if we possessed it ourselves."

The bandits calmed down reluctantly. The bandit leader, however, couldn't help but ask: "But we keep attacking like this, it’s so inefficient! We’re afraid of damaging the trebuchet, otherwise, we would have just torched the place."

"Don't worry, if we keep dragging this out, victory will inevitably be ours," Robes suggested a strategy. "The forecast for tomorrow is rain, and rain significantly impacts the soil. Their main defense is that five-wheeled vehicle blocking the cave entrance. With the rain loosening the foundation, you can find a way to drag the vehicle out directly."

"Oh, that's a great idea!" A cheer erupted from the group, though someone asked, "Will it really rain tomorrow?"

"How can someone in charge of tactical planning not understand the weather?" Robes allowed himself a rare moment of arrogance.

The bandits nodded in admiration. The leader, still cautious, asked, "Will they have any defenses against that?"

Robes only smiled and offered no answer.

The night passed peacefully. Kevin and his two companions continued to take turns on watch; even if exhausted, basic vigilance was essential. They had truly begun to eat the donkey, starting by roasting a leg. There was no other choice; war is cruel, and compared to the conflicts they had seen across the continent, this was relatively harmonious.

Waking up in the morning, the three of them felt a sense of mutual relief. In military exercises, the troops of the Loubole Kingdom were fond of night raids, but these bandits were clearly far lazier, which gave Kevin and his men a rare moment to catch their breath.

Their limbs still ached from the high-intensity combat of the previous day, leaving behind lingering aftereffects. Even as active soldiers, they were suffering from lack of rest and harsh conditions; even if they could hold out, their physical state would only deteriorate day by day.

"Sir, I've returned." A message suddenly flashed in Kevin’s mind. He felt a surge of joy, knowing it was his parrot. He hurriedly stood up and looked toward the sky, only to see two dark shadows rapidly closing in behind the bird.

"Quick, dodge!" Kevin mentally transmitted the command while simultaneously drawing his bow.

The two shadows behind let out a guttural sound; they managed to avoid Kevin’s arrows, circling around to continue their pursuit of the parrot. Start and Grey also stood up, and upon seeing the situation, they didn't hesitate, all three of them firing their bows at once. The parrot performed a series of low-altitude maneuvers, and the two shadows were finally repelled by the arrows, though they never managed to land a single hit.

Kevin raised his arm, and the parrot landed, her feathers disheveled and looking quite miserable.

"What were those things chasing you?" all three asked. To be able to dodge a volley from three trained soldiers, these were certainly not ordinary beasts.

"I don't know," the parrot replied, sounding panicked. "They were monsters that looked a bit like owls."

Kevin nodded; it was clearly a tactic by the mastermind to ensure no news got out. It turned out that having the parrot return cautiously was the right move. If he had sent her to deliver a message right from the start, she would surely have been killed. But he said aloud, "It's too dangerous, don't fly around for now. Just get something to eat."

They still had some feed for the parrot, as she didn't eat much. Below the hill, the bandits began to arrive in succession. They chatted and joked, and within moments, the area was noisy with voices, with some even chasing each other around. It hardly looked like the state of a unit preparing for battle.

Kevin checked his watch; it was 7:30.

He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds had gathered, and even the fog had cleared significantly. The rain began as scattered drops, then grew heavier, eventually turning into a torrential downpour. The fog was completely washed away. Kevin and his men stood in the cave, watching the scene below. The bandits didn't seem to be in any hurry, continuing to chat and play, indifferent to being soaked by the rain.

"What are they doing?" Grey felt uneasy as they made no move to attack.

"Waiting for an opportunity, perhaps," Kevin said, looking around. "We keep watching them, but the more they put on a show like this, the more likely it is a distraction meant to draw our attention."

"Makes sense," Start nodded.

"Little sister," Kevin turned to the parrot, "scout the area, but don't fly—just hop around on the ground."

"Yes, sir!" The parrot was very obedient.

They waited for two hours. The bandits went from being initially spirited to utterly bored, many even tossing their swords and shields aside to lie on the ground, not caring that they were soaking in the rain. The parrot continued to report that everything in the vicinity was normal.

Kevin sneered inwardly. Did they think they could lure them down for a sortie with this display? That was a severe underestimation of his intelligence. Another factor was that Kevin welcomed any tactic that dragged out the time, no matter who was implementing it. There were only three of them—real soldiers—and their patience was far superior to that of a disorganized mob of bandits. If the bandits were trying to wear down their patience, they would only end up exhausting their own first.

Two hours passed, and the bandits finally seemed unable to bear it any longer. They stood up one by one, grumbling, and began to climb the hill. After two hours of rain, the mountain path had become extremely difficult to navigate; with every step, the bandits struggled. Kevin and his men held their positions, having waited for a long time.

The bandits stopped halfway up. The ones in front took out ropes, swung them over their heads a few times, and cast them directly onto the upper arm of the trebuchet. These ropes were specially made—reinforced with monster sinew and steel wire—and were strong enough to lift tons of weight without snapping. These were, of course, provided by Robes; it was with these materials that the bandits had trapped several squads of the Thunder Knights.

Now, using them again, they hoped to pull the trebuchet out by working together. The reason they had waited so long was not as complex as Kevin had imagined; they simply wanted to wait for the rain to soften the foundation.

But when Kevin saw through their plan, his sneer only deepened. This was a grave underestimation!

The trebuchet had ground spikes to secure it on the slope, and Kevin’s five-wheeled suspension had even deeper anchors. To ensure absolute stability for this defensive position, Kevin had even removed two axles and driven them into the ground. Even with their numbers, how could they hope to pull it free when they couldn't even stand steadily on the slippery, rain-soaked slope? What a joke.

*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!* Kevin didn't hesitate to fire. Those pulling the ropes had no cover and were immediately struck. But quickly, two men beside them pulled out shields to block for them.

"I’ll count to three, everyone pull together!" the bandit leader shouted. "One! Two..."

Kevin casually shifted the trebuchet’s control lever, adjusting the tilt. The machine shuddered, and with a *clatter*, the bandits below tripped and fell into a pile. Start and Grey immediately seized the opportunity to fire, wounding several more.

The survivors dared not fight further and scrambled down the hill. The rain and mud made the combat at least twice as difficult for the bandits.

In the distance, on the top of an adjacent hill, Robes had been watching the entire spectacle. Only now did he realize that he had overestimated his opponent, yet still underestimated him.

The foundation beneath the trebuchet had been paved with armor stripped from corpses; the rain hitting it simply flowed off as if it were tile, a remarkably professional technique. There were also faint signs of newly dug drainage channels that bypassed his own traps; if a heavy storm hit, the water would be diverted to flow across the slope, making it even more slippery. Robes was certain these details hadn't been there the day before, and they certainly couldn't have been completed just by seeing the rain begin.

The opponent actually understood the weather? A mere tank commander with this level of skill?

The bandits were unwilling to give up and launched another charge, hoping at least to retrieve their ropes. This time, even a man holding a staff joined in.

Kevin was prepared. Arrows mingled with magic missiles in the air; it seemed like a chaotic barrage, but the mage waved his staff for a long time without casting a single spell. This mage was clearly a novice; Robes had seen his physical potential and simply taught him a few new spells. The bandits were uneducated and understood nothing of the essence of magic; they only knew how to mimic the motions. Facing Kevin’s suppressive fire, they were completely at a loss, not even knowing what had gone wrong.

From afar, Robes saw it clearly and was shocked once more. Disrupting elemental collection points wasn't a difficult tactic for him, but the key was that everything he had taught them were low-level spells of the Ryan Empire. While low-level spells from various countries were similar, there were subtle differences; a low-ranking officer from the Loubole Kingdom shouldn't have been able to counter them so skillfully.

*Clack!* The trebuchet shuddered again. Timing the moment the bandits put their strength into it, Kevin jolted the machine, and combined with the slippery ground and the harassment from arrows, the bandits climbed up three times and were repelled three times. It was far easier than yesterday, and the three men even started to enjoy this kind of combat. There was no helping it; when a battle you expect to be grueling suddenly becomes easy, people naturally feel a sense of joy.

With a chorus of groans, the bandits tumbled down for the third time. All of them were covered in mud. No one died this time—as the arrows came, they at least knew to cover their heads—but another twenty were wounded. Curses filled the air, so dense with profanity that the specific words were almost unintelligible.

Kevin and his men didn't care; sitting in the cave, they stayed dry, watching the bandits like clowns. They maintained their rotation, though the pace had slowed significantly.

Finally, the bandits grew tired of cursing. The leader waved his hand: "Let's go! You remember this, I'll be back!"

The three men just smiled as they watched them retreat, then high-fived in celebration of their victory. They had repelled three attacks that morning, and counting yesterday, they had successfully pushed back six assaults in total. They kept a tally; this would be something to boast about later, a source of amusement in their current predicament.

"Do you think they'll come back today?" Start asked, still concerned.

"Very unlikely," Kevin was uncharacteristically optimistic this time. "This rain will probably last for a while, which is a lifesaver for us. Attacking a hill in the rain is a major taboo, though if they really were determined, they could still do it, given their numbers."

"Oh?" Grey asked, puzzled. "Then why did they leave?"

"It’s obvious—the bandits lack willpower; once a fight drags on, they lose the will to continue," Kevin replied. "Especially with the weather being what it is."

"Great!" Grey was greatly encouraged. "Can we take a bath now?" As early as yesterday, they had lined up the helmets they found outside to collect rainwater.

Kevin shook his head helplessly. "I advise you not to take your clothes off to wash. These are extraordinary times; if the bandits launch a surprise attack, you’ll be facing them in your birthday suit."

Start pointed to the traps outside: "Wait until the rain fills those pits, then we can just jump in and soak."

"Too bad there’s no hot water," Grey said with a sigh of regret.

Kevin laughed and scolded: "With what little tinder we have, everything outside is damp, and you’re dreaming of a hot bath?"

The three chatted and laughed; it was a rare moment of levity since they had been trapped. Finding joy in suffering—even in the briefest gaps between battles, they found satisfaction.

At noon, the three continued to gnaw on the donkey leg. The three donkey carcasses were piled in the cave; fortunately, the weather wasn't too hot, though the humidity was a concern. How to preserve their food was a major problem; if it truly rotted, they would have no choice but to roast it and eat it anyway. There was no other way.

Grey took out a book, checking to see if it had gotten wet, handling it with great care. Kevin saw this and casually asked, "What book is that?"

"This..." Grey looked embarrassed. Start answered for him: "He wrote it himself."

"Oh?" Kevin was slightly surprised. "You can write books now? That's no small feat!" Back in their recruit days, Grey couldn't even write a letter home, and Start had to write it for him.

"Just, you know, writing something," Grey said awkwardly.

"Can I take a look?" Kevin reached out, feeling quite curious.

Grey hugged the book and shook his head. Start laughed from the side: "Forget it, you're not the right audience for his work."

Kevin smiled and didn't press the matter. He stepped outside alone, letting the rain fall on him while he observed the terrain. Even though he knew every inch by heart, he did it out of habit, looking for anything else that might be of use. He wandered until the rain stopped at dusk, his body thoroughly soaked, and he shook off the water.

He suddenly noticed a new sprout growing from the ground. It was spring, and after the heavy rain, it was a season of renewal. Kevin paused, then immediately knelt to dig into the mud.

"What are you doing?" Start walked out and asked.

"I'm trying to grow some vegetables," Kevin replied.

Both of them: "..."

"I read in a book once that integrating farming with combat is a highly sophisticated strategy," Kevin said as he poked around, looking for other seedlings. "I’m just trying it out—even if it's just a couple of green onions, that would be something."

"How long do you think we're going to stay here?" Start was genuinely shocked. "Ten or eight years?"

Kevin sighed softly. "Get back to work, and stop with the nonsense."