What is an offensive priest?

Chapter 14 Town Attack

When the adventure team rushed into Blackrock Town.

The sight before him made even the valiant noble knight gasp in astonishment.

The rammed earth wall on the east side of the town, the barrier that had once rendered the goblins futile, now had a hideous gaping hole nearly ten feet wide torn open.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of gunpowder, and the ground was littered with fragments of pottery jars—the remains of inferior gunpowder barrels.

Around the gap, many goblin corpses lay scattered about.

These ugly green-skinned monsters died tragically. Some were impaled on the ground with spears through their chests, some had their heads smashed to pieces by heavy weapons, and one corpse was blown apart by a gunpowder barrel, leaving only half of its charred upper body.

Blood seeped into the soil, congealing into dark red mud at dusk.

But what truly darkened Richard's expression were the fragments of guard equipment mixed among the goblin corpses.

An oak round shield bearing the emblem of Blackrock Town lay split in two at the feet of a goblin corpse.

A standard leather helmet lay tumbling in the rubble, its decorative feathers on top charred.

"It was gunpowder that exploded..."

Kro crouched down, picked up a bit of charred soil with his fingers, and sniffed it.

Pass through the gap in the wall.

Upon entering the town's streets, the four of them stopped simultaneously.

The central square of Blackrock Town, a place where a bonfire party was held just a few days ago, filled with the aroma of mead and the laughter of children, has now been reduced to a burning ruin.

The grain warehouse on the east side of the square had completely collapsed, with charred wooden beams still emitting wisps of smoke, and the wheat stored inside had turned to ashes.

The artisan workshop area was in even worse shape. The blacksmith's bellows were smashed, the furnace overturned, and red-hot coals were scattered all over the ground, igniting the adjacent carpentry shed.

Everywhere there were ruins left by fire, and the sound of crying could be heard everywhere.

Chief of the Guard, Weiss, was directing the villagers to fight the fire, but his imposing figure was now marred by the loss of a single arm…

"It's Pastor Richard!"

"Pastor Richard is back!"

A woman kneeling in front of the ruins of her own shop suddenly raised her head. Ash covered her cheeks, and tear tracks left two clear furrows in the ashes.

When she saw Richard's figure clearly, her previously empty eyes suddenly lit up, as if she had seen hope, and her hoarse voice broke out like a broken bellows.

This shout was like a pebble thrown into stagnant water.

The crying around them suddenly stopped.

Faces stained with cigarette ash and tears turned out from every corner of the ruins.

Those eyes, which had been filled with despair and death, suddenly had a faint but tenacious hope rekindled the moment they saw Richard, like a spark struggling in the ashes, and gradually regained their color.

A burly figure staggered through the crowd.

It was Chief of the Guard, Weiss.

The veteran, who had just patted his chest a few days ago to promise to protect the town, now looked weathered and ashamed.

His leather armor was torn in many places, and there was a deep claw mark on his left shoulder that exposed the bone, with the flesh torn up. What was most striking was his lone, single arm.

Weiss walked up to Reverend Richard, his face blackened by smoke and stained with blood, and squeezed out a ghastly expression that was more painful than crying.

"I'm sorry, Reverend Richard..." His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible, "I failed to protect the town."

Richard looked at his wound. Although it had been treated, his arm was indeed broken and could not be restored.

Richard reached out and gently patted Weiss's intact right shoulder with his broad palm.

The movements were very gentle, as if afraid of breaking the old soldier who was on the verge of collapse.

"What exactly happened while I was away?"

A young guard standing nearby, whom Richard remembered as Tom, who had just turned eighteen, called out with red eyes.

"It's goblins! Those damned green-skinned bastards!"

"While Reverend Richard was away, they attacked the town."

Richard frowned.

The goblin tribe in the east had been behaving themselves for some time since he repelled them last time, so why would they suddenly attack?

And they breached the outer perimeter defenses so quickly.

Chief of the Guard, Weiss, added.

"And there are gnolls and ogres!"

"For some reason, they colluded. That group of ferocious gnolls, carrying gunpowder barrels they'd somehow acquired, charged like madmen and blasted a hole in the wall."

"I can only engage the enemy in close combat with my guards, but there are simply too many of them..."

Upon hearing this, Kro frowned in surprise.

"Why would ogres cooperate with goblins? They usually treat goblins as snacks."

Richard paused for a moment, looked at the devastating ruins around him, and asked.

"What were the losses?"

How many people were injured?

"Commander-in-Chief Weiss replied."

"This goblin invasion is strange. Unlike the usual rampages of burning and killing, it seems to be organized, as if they are searching for something."

"Aside from a few seriously wounded guards who were fighting on the front lines and are receiving treatment at the monastery, the villagers were unharmed."

As he spoke, his tone became low and resentful, and his fists clenched tightly.

"But they kidnapped all the children in town!"

Hearing that the goblins had kidnapped the child, the drow mage Aver became extremely angry.

"Why did those beasts kidnap the children?"

"We must rescue them!"

Richard also frowned, but he did not lose his composure.

He knew that the reason the goblins didn't kill the child on the spot but chose to abduct him was because they had other uses for him.

It's safe for now, at least...

Richard patted Weiss on the shoulder again, looking guilty.

"It's my fault. If I had stayed or made other preparations beforehand, this might not have happened."

The young guards around him all bore several wounds, and their eyes were red-rimmed.

"This has nothing to do with Reverend Richard. Everyone knows your contributions to the town. We just underestimated the ferocity of the goblins."

Richard sighed deeply and turned to walk towards the monastery.

Inside the church, the usual solemnity and reverence were completely shattered.

Richard's beloved bench was pushed against the wall, and the space that was made up was filled with simple straw mats.

The guards, covered in blood, lay on the mats.

Some people had their chests dented from being hit by the cannibal's club, and every breath they took was accompanied by blood and foam.

Some had their flesh torn open by the jackal's sharp claws, and broken bones pierced their skin, exposing the white bone fragments.

Painful groans, accompanied by the thick stench of blood, filled the entire hall.

Sister Sharon was kneeling beside a guard with a broken sternum, her hands pressed on either side of the wound, and the light of healing magic flowed from her palms, seeping into the broken bones.

Her white nun's robe was stained with blood, the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her fair arms were covered in bloodstains.

Sweat trickled down her forehead, and her thin lips were slightly pale from continuous spellcasting, but her eyes remained unusually focused.

creak-

The heavy wooden doors of the church were pushed open, and Richard slowly walked in.

"Pastor Richard, you're back!"

Sharon looked up, and when she saw the person's face clearly, her tired, unfocused deep blue eyes suddenly lit up.

The huge weight that had been pressing on my heart finally lifted at that moment.

Richard nodded, his gaze sweeping over the horrific scene inside the church before finally settling on Sharon's face.

That usually calm and gentle face was now covered in blood, and strands of hair were stuck to his cheeks with sweat, revealing an unconcealable exhaustion.

But the light in her eyes was more resolute than ever before.

"You've worked hard," Richard said, his voice unusually gentle.

Sharon shook her head, her lips moved, but she could only manage a forced smile before continuing to cast her spell.

The wounded soldiers who were still conscious inside the church struggled to get up when they saw Pastor Richard return.

"Pastor Richard..."

Their voices were weak, and their eyes held a complex mix of emotions.

There was guilt, helplessness, relief upon seeing the pillar of support, and self-reproach for one's own incompetence.

"Pastor Richard, it's our fault for being useless. We failed to stop the goblin invasion, which has harmed the children..."

Richard was not good at offering words of comfort, and he knew this was not what the guards wanted to hear.

He walked to the center of the hall, looked around, and slowly began to speak.

The sound wasn't loud, but it struck everyone's heart like a war drum.

"You are all wonderful! Los Angeles is proud of you!"

"Focus on recovering. I'll take care of everything else!"

Richard's words were like the last straw.

Inside the church, the emotions that had been suppressed for too long finally burst forth.

"Pastor Richard..."

The young guard, Walker, was the first to burst into tears.

It wasn't a cowardly cry, but a catharsis mixed with relief, grievance, and resentment.

Immediately afterwards, the other wounded soldiers also choked up.

Some people covered their faces with their still-movable hands, while others looked up at the sun emblem on the temple dome, tears streaming down their faces.

Just then.

Suddenly, cries and screams came from outside the church.

"Pastor Richard! Please save our children!"

As the oak doors were pushed open, dozens of figures rushed in, instantly filling the already cramped church.

Almost all the women in the town flocked into the church.

Their faces were filled with despair, pleading, and the last glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished.

The leader was an elderly woman with white hair, Granny Martha, who was the oldest person in town.

She walked step by step to Richard, leaning on her cane, and tightly grasped his arm.

"Reverend Richard," the old man's voice trembled, "my grandson Thor, he was only five years old, and he was kidnapped by those green-skinned beasts..."

"Please..."

The other women knelt down behind Grandma Martha.

They didn't cry out, but instead looked helplessly at Richard with their tear-filled eyes.

That look in her eyes was more infectious than any words; it was a mother's most humble plea after losing her child.

Richard stood still.

I watched these women kneeling on the ground, seeing the despair in their eyes and their shoulders trembling with helplessness.

"rest assured."

He supported Grandma Martha's trembling arm and looked at each mother who had lost her child.

"I will bring them back."

In Blackrock, Richard's words were not just a promise, but a reassuring guarantee!

Inside the church, the groans of the wounded soldiers temporarily subsided.

Everyone present, even Sharon who was casting a spell, looked up at Richard.

Richard's gaze, however, had already passed over them, looking towards the sky outside the church, shrouded in black smoke.

His voice was as cold and sharp as a drawn sword.

"By the way—"

"Make those beasts pay the price!"