After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World novel Chapter 1268

The war went on, with the enemy's tens of thousands of forces approaching the walls, more than a thousand of which were past level 20.

They were rained on by cannons or arrows, though it was notable that the cannons were usually absent where elements flew.

Fargo sneered, thinking Alterra was still too soft.

For a while, it was like this: attack and receive. Some were taken down—their life and deaths dependent on their levels—and some would get past these attacks and enter the shielded areas or the areas near the elementlaists.

The elementalists would continue to protect their own side, sending their own long-range attacks towards the walls. Similarly, Basset's main archers would rain down arrows from their distance beyond the scope of the sentries.

They would hit the occasional Alterran or mercenary. Oftentimes, their level or equipment was still enough now that they were still in the early stages of the war, but sometimes they'd fall backwards due to the force.

However, the Alterran logistics team was ready to catch them, sending them to the clinic or to the hospital, depending on the urgency.

Fargo gritted his teeth. He knew their side had already lost a few hundred due to direct hits or subsequent injuries. In contrast, he doubted Alterrans had seen a single death as of now.

He wished to join this war directly, too, but he hadn't forgotten his oath. While the ambiguity of what was considered 'indirect' damage hadn't seemed to affect him much, directly joining the war and hurting an Alterran was a definite violation of it.

For now, he would just help command the back lines, ensuring as much damage as possible.

Ideally, he'd see Garan's death directly.

More and more shields emerged from the arrays. Even if one of theirs fell, the one next to it would move to replace it, with new ones continuing the path behind.

Alterrans eventually determined that it was a waste of energy to target the shields, opting to just wait for their side to show up and attack.

At the same time, knowing Alterrans, Fargo knew there would probably be more forces moving towards the easements aligned to where the Basset Shields created a path.

However, Fargo believed it wouldn't matter as much as Alterra hoped, because the differences in power would still be there.

Fargo looked at the man beside him. His stomach flipped in disgust, but also in excitement for the damage he'd cause.

This was none other than Vara, the level 39 head of the Rongo Mercenary Team.

"It's time now," he said, about to reiterate some instructions. However, he was not able to say more as he felt his head suddenly tugged back with such force that he thought his scalp would get pulled out of his skull.

"AH!" he gasped, eyes wide, and gritted his teeth when he saw the disgusting man staring at him with cold eyes.

"Don't think you can order me around, Fargo."

He shivered in anger and in shock, but knew when to back down. "I… I apologize," he squeezed out between grinding teeth.

Vara sneered and threw him down, causing him to fall face first. Fargo shook as he laid down, body dying from anger and humiliation.

Some of their forces walking by even stopped to watch him, some stepping over his body.

He could hear them whisper and chuckle and it took all of Fargo's patience not to explode at them.

He could only grip the soil, his fingers burying themselves into the earth in his anger. After a deep breath, he pushed himself up, pretending he wasn't just kissing the ground.

"It's time for us to have our fun now," Vara said, turning to the mercenariess next to him. Along with him were dozens of level 30s and hundreds of level 25s or so—all reeking with bloodlust.

They were divided into a few groups, but the people helping the mobs enter were actually the minority.

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