Mercenary System: I can increase innate potential !

"Let us hold the line!"

Captain Orvari watched the scene with mingled admiration and relief.

He had made the right bet.

He knew he’d made the right bet, because at that moment, Dravus represented at least 30% of the Saber-Toothed Tigers’ fighting power.

As far as he was concerned, it was only thanks to Dravus’ presence that Maxime’s mercenaries weren’t being overwhelmed.

And he was right, currently the Sabertooth Tigers couldn’t take advantage of the active talent [Nox Limit] because of the reload time required between each use.

Although Maxime could force the use, this had side effects.

As a result, they were all at least 20% to 30% weaker than when fighting with the Shibuya.

But they were still elite mercenaries.

With Dravus’s help, the chaos around them seemed to be coming into order, as if they had mastered the scales of victory.

Seeing this, hope was reborn in the exhausted hearts of the soldiers of the second regiment, who looked off into the distance.

Kaelor, looking to the side, was seething from within as he watched the Sabertooth Tigers push his troops back.

Captain Dravak, who was leading the encirclement operation on the second human regiment, joined him.

"Kaelor."

A voice appeared right beside him.

Kaelor glanced in the direction of the voice, to see who was calling him.

And seeing him, even he could only respect him.

"Ytan."

Ytan was the captain of the second Dravak regiment and possessed a status similar to Orvari’s in the Dravak army.

His strength was even significantly greater than Orvari’s and approached that of the captain of the first human regiment!

Kaelor was only the captain of the eighth regiment, and thus had a status far inferior to him.

"The Dravak with the awakened bloodline, he was one of your men wasn’t he?"

Ytan’s voice was poised and calm, but Kaelor felt an intense pressure from him.

It was simply because it was Ytan that he felt this way!

"Yes, Captain Ytan."

"Then why is he fighting us now?"

Ytan’s tone was always casual, but those who knew him knew he was very displeased. Read new chapters at novelbuddy

"That..."

For a moment Kaelor didn’t know what to say.

He knew Dravus well because he was a genius and one of his best men, and basically he even got on very well with him.

But he knew that since his wife had been stolen from him, Dravus hadn’t been the same.

He’d become more indifferent to almost everything, except how to build up his own strength.

Of course, he knew why, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The chief of the Dravus tribe was himself a very powerful Dravak with many remarkable military contributions.

Without waiting for Kaelor’s reply, Ytan continued:

"And I remember that to eliminate the Shibuya, that group of elite human mercenaries, the commander gave you Oscar?"

Kaelor could only bow his head in shame.

Ashamed of his own weakness and lack of lucidity at the right moments.

"You’ve cost our race two warriors in the awakened line. You must pay."

Ytan’s words weren’t actually true; Dravus had awakened his bloodline by fighting Zarthan.

Oscar, on the other hand, was uncontrollable and had his way.

But Kaelor could do nothing about it, his strength and status were too weak compared to Ytan.

"I’m ready to atone for my sins." he finally said, lowering his head to hide his bitter face.

Ytan watched him for a few seconds, then finally nodded.

"That’s good, because I’ve got a mission for you."

Kaelor looked at Ytan, and waited patiently.

Ytan glanced at Kaelor, and ordered:

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"You will block Dravus the traitor, as well as Orvari, the captain of the second human regiment, if he dares to intervene."

Kaelor opened his eyes in surprise.

"Don’t worry, my best lieutenants will accompany you. Meanwhile, I’m going to kill that human genius."

Ytan’s cold words made Kaelor smile.

If this evil human genius died, then Kaelor would be grinning for months.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

...

Meanwhile, helicopters Zelta-1 and Zelta-2 had landed on the ground, and many wounded were being carried in.

When Zelta-1 landed, Ernest immediately climbed down, as there was no longer any direct view of the Dravaks.

Without wasting a second, he headed for the perimeter where the wounded were being dragged or carried by their comrades.

His gaze pierced through the scrum of men struggling to carry their wounded comrades.

"Get moving! Every second counts!" he shouted to the soldiers of the second regiment.

"Load those wounded onto the choppers now!"

Some of the soldiers, taken by surprise, stopped dead in their tracks and stared at him.

Ernest wasn’t wearing their uniform, and his imperious tone wasn’t well received by everyone, although they knew he was coming to help them.

A tight-jawed corporal dared to reply:

"Who are you to give orders? We have our own officers in the army."

"Respect the army, and we’ll respect your mercenaries, my boy."

Ernest, his features tense, glared at him.

He approached the corporal, his boots crunching the muddy ground.

"I don’t think you understand. If many soldiers from your regiment are going to survive, it’s because our captain volunteered despite his wounds."

"And yet he owes you nothing, he’s already saved the Shibuya and when you went to retrieve him, he was already safe."

"Now we’re in this mess together, and every second that passes could be a second too soon. A second when the Dravaks succeed in destroying the helicopters."

At the same time Ernest looked at the soldiers nearby.

"If that happens, then all your wounded will die here! Believe me, the only ones who can lose by dragging their feet are you."

"The Saber-toothed Tigers are bound to find a way out of this mess!"

The corporal frowned, finding the young mercenary to be acting in bad faith, but didn’t reply.

He was right about one thing: they had no time to lose, and if anything went wrong, it would be the second regiment that would be affected, not the mercenary group.

The other soldiers realized the situation, and drew on their remaining strength to carry their comrades and pick up the pace.

At the same time, Ernest noticed one soldier carrying another on his back.

"You there! Stop!"

The soldier looked at him strangely.

"Your comrade is already dead, leave his corpse here."

The soldier opened his eyes in disbelief.

He laid his comrade on the ground, in disbelief.

But when he noticed his white eyes he panicked.

"Marc, Marc, fucking Marc, wake up! This is not the time!"

Ernest wanted to intervene, but the same corporal who had stopped him intervened.

"Forget it, Thomas, Marc is dead."

The soldier couldn’t accept this reality.

"No Marc...My brother can’t be dead, it’s not possible."

The corporal gritted his teeth, these two soldiers were also his friends.

And he knew that these two soldiers were twins, they had sworn to live and die together many times.

"He’s dead, now do your best to live for him."

"A person really dies when no one thinks of them anymore."

The soldier didn’t reply to the corporal; he pounded his fists on the ground several times in rage.

Then he stood up, his fist bloody, but his face firm.

"Yes, Corporal. You’re right."

Ernest softened his gaze for a few seconds at this, but the battlefield with gunfire and explosions everywhere quickly brought him back to reality.

He turned to a group carrying a badly wounded comrade, his arm dangling at an unnatural angle.

"Over there, Zelta-2! Go first, this chopper is less loaded!"

He ran towards another group, himself helping to carry an improvised stretcher by moving one of the porters who was too tired, and pointed to a clearer trajectory.

"This way, move faster! If you have weapons, leave them here, it’s lives that count!"

Before long, Zelta-1 was already at maximum capacity, with over 30 wounded on board.

Zelta-1’s rotors were already starting to turn faster, a sign that Gérard was preparing the helicopter for takeoff.

Ernest took a last look around Zelta-1 after loading a casualty into Zelta-2.

Many wounded were still being loaded.

He sprinted towards Zelta-1, and saw many wounded piled on top of each other.

Many were groaning in pain under the circumstances, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.

The possibility of being extracted from this battle zone by helicopter was already more than luxurious.

What’s more, thanks to a few clever soldiers, they were in no danger of falling.

Indeed, the soldiers were all resourceful and had taken straps and ropes to tie the wounded together and to the helicopter.

"We’re full up here! Nobody’s coming aboard anymore!" he shouted.

"If you still have wounded, send them to Zelta-2 or prepare to evacuate them on foot."

Enemy fire sounded closer. Ernest looked up and saw winged Dravaks diving toward their position. He grabbed the radio clipped to his breastplate and shouted:

"Chief! We’ve got Dravaks in the air, you’ve got to back off or we won’t make it out of here in one piece!"

Maxime heard this, and wanted to reply, but just then, Ytan leapt into the air from his previous position.

He landed heavily in front of Maxime, creating a shockwave that threw up dust and debris.

Their eyes met, and time seemed to stand still.

"Maxime, is it?" taunted Ytan, his voice piercing through the din.

"I’m going to smash you to bits in front of your men. They’ll see how insignificant their leader is."

Indeed, Ytan knew how to speak the Frankish language, unlike Kaelor.

Maxime frowned; he didn’t have time to fight. The priority was clearly to evacuate.

But as he glanced at his men, he realized they were surrounded!

He remained calm.

"This is Maxime for Ernest. We’re surrounded, I’m counting on you and the soldiers of the second regiment to protect Zelta-1 and Zelta-2!"

Ernest gritted his teeth as he heard this, hating not being with Maxime.

"Roger that, Chief."

He couldn’t disappoint his boss.

At the same time, on Maxime’s side, his laser sword vibrated as if sensing its owner’s will to fight.

"If you want my head, you’ll have to come and get it yourself."

Ytan’s expression remained unchanged.

"That was already in my plans."