Webnovel Author In The Apocalypse World

The village chief had a feeling that this battle might be the final conflict between their village and the opposing one.

From this day forward, the dynamics of the canyon floor would change drastically.

Whether peace would be established or one side would be completely wiped out remained uncertain.

Regardless, their village would remain unscathed—wasn't that right?

Kim Haru did not stop the village chief.

If he wanted to watch, he could.

If not for his dislike of crowded places, Kim Haru himself would have been curious to see the strange people from the other village.

However, that was fine.

Once the battle was over, he would see them eventually.

With permission granted, the village chief sprinted toward the battlefield with surprising agility for his age.

He even used his abilities to speed up.

However, by the time he arrived, the battle was already at its end.

On the riverbank, where both sides had once stood in a standoff, everything was now eerily silent.

A massive owl stood in the middle of the battlefield, and all around it, bodies lay sprawled—every single one belonging to the people from the opposing village, all of whom had worn mud rings.

The village chief turned to look at his own people.

Every face was filled with shock and fear as they stared at the enormous owl in the center, their bodies frozen in place, too terrified to even move a finger.

Unlike the village chief, who had only arrived to witness the aftermath, these people had watched the entire event unfold before their eyes.

They had seen the enormous owl descend from the sky in an instant, stirring up a violent gust of wind.

Wherever the wind passed, the opposing villagers collapsed like wheat cut down by a scythe—one after another, falling in succession.

The enemy, who had always been evenly matched and even slightly superior in battle, had been utterly powerless.

They had likely not even seen what kind of creature had created that devastating wind.

Such an overwhelming disparity in power—how could they not be terrified of this mighty owl?

And when the owl folded its wings and landed on the ground, they could see from the faint glow in its eyes that the attack had been effortless.

The remaining enemy warriors, those who had not been felled by the wind, rushed at the owl in desperation.

The owl's next action confirmed everyone's suspicions.

It did not move an inch.

Instead, it simply lifted one wing, and the feathers on it instantly transformed into sharp blades that shot toward the approaching enemies.

The blades were faster than the wind, and the sheer number of them filled the air with a sharp, whistling sound.

The overlapping whistles came together like a triumphant battle hymn for this one-sided slaughter.

Yet, in the ears of those present, this elegant melody sounded like the whispers of death.

When the owl folded its wing back, all the feathers obediently returned to their original positions.

And by then, not a single person wearing a mud ring was left standing.

Not to mention standing, even kneeling or sitting wasn't an option—everyone was lying flat on the ground.

This was exactly the scene the village chief arrived to witness.

The people of the opposing tribe, who had narrowly avoided the sharp blades, swallowed hard in fear.

Just moments ago, sword-like feathers had whistled past them, flashing with a cold glint.

The wind alone, stirred by those feathers, was sharp enough to cause cuts without direct contact.

The sheer shock of it all would probably take a long time to fade.

The village chief didn't know what had just happened, but that didn't stop him from recognizing the victory in front of him.

"What are you all standing around for? Tie them up!"

The darkness of night didn't affect the village chief's vision—he could clearly see that all of these people from the opposing tribe were still breathing.

Since they weren't dead, their movements needed to be restricted immediately.

Otherwise, if they regained consciousness and got up to fight again, things would get troublesome.

At the village chief's shout, the villagers, who were still in awe of the owl's power, snapped back to their senses.

They rushed forward, shoving and urging each other as they checked the people lying on the ground.

The dead were left alone, while the living were sorted according to the severity of their injuries—those who needed to be tied up were tied up, those who needed to be restrained were restrained.

The final tally was reported to the village chief.

The owl, for some reason, didn't immediately turn and leave.

Instead, it remained nearby, preening its feathers at its leisure.

From time to time, it glanced toward the crowd.

Of course, its gaze was mostly fixed on those wearing mud rings.

At first, the villagers didn't understand what it was looking at.

Then, one of the captives regained consciousness faster than the others.

The moment he opened his eyes and saw he was surrounded by enemies, he instantly leaped up and tried to stab the nearest person.

Just as his hand extended barely a centimeter forward—so fast that his intended target hadn't even noticed yet—a gust of wind swept through.

With a loud "smack," the attacker was sent flying into the air before crashing back down, hitting the ground hard.

He was left completely dazed and disoriented.

There was no chance he'd be waking up again anytime soon.

After completing the final tally, the village chief realized that the owl had been incredibly precise with its attacks.

Everyone who had been knocked down by the wind was merely unconscious, while those cut by the feathers had been rendered immobile by the toxins.

Although some had wounds in rather unfortunate places, overall, the casualties were minimal.

It took the villagers most of the night to finish tying up all the captives.

Of course, there weren't enough rooms to accommodate prisoners, so they had no choice but to pile them up in the open courtyard.

The night was already deep.