In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

He aimed first at the thick torsos of his foes. Though his arrows struck true, the warriors merely paused before charging with renewed fury, seemingly strengthened by their rage.

Dismounting from Marcus's back, Michael dodged their attacks with agile movements, using the chaos to experiment further. From above, Marcus provided cover, protecting him from any flanking assaults. Taking advantage of an opening, Michael imbued his arrow with aura and fired, piercing a warrior's thick hide and striking their heart.

However, this technique was draining. It worked well for eliminating commanders but wasn't practical in the heat of battle. Michael quickly adjusted his approach, targeting weak points like eyes, mouths, and ears. Every strike was deadly.

After eliminating the most formidable opponents, Michael signaled Marcus.

Marcus gave a sharp nod and lashed his tail in wide, sweeping motions, resembling a windmill. Recognizing the signal, the soldiers surged forward in unison.

"Target their eyes, mouths, and ears!" Michael shouted. "Aim for any part still in human form—those are the weak spots!"

A brutal melee ensued. The formation, composed entirely of knights, struck with overwhelming force. Each beast carried three to five knights, with those in the front wearing heavy armor and wielding shields. Behind them, knights with long spears mercilessly impaled their foes. The selection of knights capable of generating aura at the spear tips paid off as they broke through enemy lines with precision.

The warriors who had fully transformed into bears had already been killed, leaving the hybrid form warriors to be trampled by beasts and skewered by spears.

The enemy numbers dwindled rapidly, but the task force suffered casualties as well. The Rock Bear warriors, despite being outmatched, fought fiercely, and their strength took a toll on Michael's forces.

Watching the battle from a distance, Karato cursed the heavens. Since the death of Kalina, the tribe's shaman and his cousin, their forces had been slaughtered relentlessly. With the strongest warriors gone, reassembling the frontlines was nearly impossible.

Karato clenched his teeth in frustration, despairing as the battle slipped further out of his control. His warriors were being pushed back, their morale visibly waning. Unable to bear it any longer, he shouted, "Form groups of ten and attack together! I'll circle around to the rear and lead a charge. Isaac, follow me with the first battalion!"

Though it seemed like a desperate counterattack, it was a ploy to buy time for an escape.

Michael, perceiving Karato's intent, smirked. The last remaining commander was resorting to such a cowardly tactic.

"Rock Bear Tribe commander is fleeing!" Michael shouted, his voice carrying across the battlefield.

Startled, the Rock Bear warriors turned to see Karato, now in human form, astride a direwolf and fleeing the battlefield. A group of followers, mostly his kin, trailed behind him.

In the midst of this chaos, Michael loosed an arrow that struck the Rock Bear banner, sending it tumbling to the ground. The already fragile morale of the tribe shattered completely.

Those with enough strength followed Karato's lead and fled in panic. Those who remained, disoriented and without direction, became easy prey for the Special Task Force.

The Elonia Kingdom soldiers stood out with their ferocity, their hatred for the invaders and their desire for glory fueling their relentless attacks.

Fleeing in the middle of battle was fatal. The Rock Bear warriors were cut down by spears and arrows as they fled, reduced to living targets.

"Let's go after him, Miaomiao, Marcus," Michael said, focusing on Karato.

The gap between them closed swiftly. Miaomiao intercepted Karato, blocking his path with a leisurely yet menacing air. Licking her paws, her silver white claws gleamed ominously under the dark sky.

Behind her, Michael aimed his bow from atop Marcus. With all escape routes cut off, Karato had no choice but to surrender. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but survival was all that mattered now.

Raising his hands in defeat, Karato ordered his followers to drop to the ground. Michael's voice rang out across the battlefield.

"Rock Bear Tribe, hear me! Your commander has surrendered. I repeat your commander has surrendered! Resistance is futile. Kneel and submit now or die!"

The sound of his voice carried over the field, reaching every corner. Those still fighting paused to assess the situation. Realizing the battle was lost, many began shedding their transformations and prostrating themselves on the ground.

A few hesitant warriors glanced around, searching for a way out, but it was too late. There was no escape. Michael's forces were closing in, tightening the noose.

Seeing the hopelessness of their plight, even the most defiant eventually dropped to their knees. The famed valor of the Rock Bear Tribe was nowhere to be found—they were utterly broken.

If the Rock Bear warriors had responded with a coordinated counterattack rather than succumbing to chaos as their commanders fell, the outcome might have been different. However, they failed to regroup, and more than half their forces were wiped out in the ensuing carnage.

Even the remaining warriors, tense and fearful of unseen arrows, found themselves too disoriented to fight effectively, retreating in panic. Karato, who had promised to launch a rear attack, was instead seen fleeing with his kin, shattering any remaining morale.

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When the last remnants of resistance faltered, Karato was dragged back into the fray, dangling helplessly from Miaomiao's jaws. His face was etched with despair and resignation.

"Karato..." one warrior muttered under his breath, still in his transformed state. The voice carried no hope, only desolation.

After that single word, the warriors relinquished their forms, kneeling in surrender. The series of blows—the loss of their strongest fighters, the death of their shaman, the onslaught of Michael's beasts, and the betrayal and capture of their leader—had left them broken.

Karato, bound and thrown to the ground in humiliation, was consumed by bitterness. He regretted not choosing to die fighting alongside his warriors. Instead, he had trusted his uncle's plan to bring only a small elite force to support the supply unit.