Chapter 399: Mini Galloping Brigade! Attack!
Nella took a frantic step backward, her green eyes wide with sheer terror as she pointed a shaking finger at the weapon.
"W-W-Wait!" Nella stammered, her squeaky voice cracking. "Evil Hero! What are you doing?! Why did you pull out a sword that big?!"
She pointed at the blade accusingly, her small hand trembling.
"That—that sword is made of steel! We’re using wooden swords! You can’t just—that’s not—"
Luca’s expression was the picture of innocence.
"I’m simply preparing for our duel using a blade that I always wield in battle. Is there a problem?
"Of course there’s a problem!" Nella shouted, her voice pitching higher with panic. "You’re not supposed to use a real weapon! Instead, you’re supposed to just stand there and let us hit you!"
"That’s how this works!"
She held up her wooden sword as evidence.
"S-See? We’re using these! I didn’t even sharpen the edges because my mother said I might accidentally hurt someone!"
"And you—! You’re over there with a giant steel monster-sword that could cut a centaur in half!"
The other children erupted in panicked agreement.
"Yeah! Put that away! Use a stick like us!"
"Look at my sword—it’s basically a toy!"
"That thing could cut a horse in half! Probably two horses!"
"I don’t want to be cut in half!"
"If he swings that even once, we’ll all go flying like catapults!"
"Someone stop him! This isn’t fair!"
The formation that had seemed so disciplined moments ago dissolved into chaos.
Children huddled together, their earlier bravado evaporating in the face of actual danger.
Even Nella looked shaken, her confident smirk replaced by wide-eyed uncertainty.
This wasn’t how the plan was supposed to go.
Luca, meanwhile, swung the massive sword lazily from side to side, the motion sending small gusts of wind in the children’s direction. They flinched with every pass.
"Why should I change my weapon?" He asked casually. "If you want to use proper swords, I have no objection. Feel free to arm yourselves however you wish. But I’m not changing mine."
"We can’t!" Nella cried. "Our arms aren’t strong enough to lift real swords yet! These wooden ones are all we can manage!"
Luca shrugged. "That sounds like a skill issue."
The children stared at him in disbelief.
This was wrong. This was all wrong!
The Hero was supposed to be a good person who would never threaten them.
But this...this looked like he was preparing for murder!
Nella quickly huddled with her comrades, their small heads pressed together in urgent conference.
"What do we do, Nella?! What do we do?! " One whispered frantically.
"I don’t know! This wasn’t in the plan! Master Mavis said he wouldn’t do anything!"
"Master Mavis was wrong! He’s going to kill us all!"
The panic was spreading quickly. Several children were already looking for escape routes, their earlier enthusiasm completely gone.
Then, in a stroke of desperate inspiration, Nella turned toward the watching mothers.
"MAMA! HELP US! " She shrieked. "THE BIG BAD HERO IS TRYING TO BULLY US!"
The other children immediately followed suit, their voices rising in a chorus of desperate pleas.
"Mother! Tell him to stop!"
"He’s using a real sword! We only have wooden ones!"
"It’s not fair! It’s not fair at all!"
"Mommy, I don’t want to be cut in half!"
"Somebody save us!"
The mothers, however, did not move to intervene.
Nella’s mother, a centaur with the same chestnut hair as her daughter, simply crossed her arms and offered a mocking smile.
"The Hero isn’t doing anything wrong." She called back. "He accepted your challenge for a proper duel. Why are you all so afraid? You were so confident just a moment ago."
Nella’s jaw dropped in betrayal.
The other mothers nodded in agreement, their expressions ranging from amused to stern.
"A true knight doesn’t abandon battle just because the opponent has a better weapon." One said.
"What’s wrong, little ones? Afraid of a simple sword?"
"You wanted to fight the Hero. Here he is. Face him with honor."
The children stared at their mothers in horrified disbelief.
Their own mother’s, the women who were supposed to protect them from all harm were siding with the enemy.
In truth, the mothers had recognized this opportunity for what it was: a chance to discipline their increasingly unruly daughters.
Mavis’s influence had made the children clever but also spoiled. They had become too confident, too willing to challenge authority, too convinced of their own cleverness.
A little fear might do them good.
Now, with their children cornered and panicking, they were going to let the lesson play out.
—
Seeing that even their mothers had abandoned them, the miniature brigade was thrown into complete disarray.
But then, remarkably, Nella’s expression hardened.
"It’s a bluff!" She shouted, her voice regaining its earlier confidence. "It’s a bluff, everyone! Calm down!"
Her companions turned to her with desperate hope.
"The evil Hero would never actually use that sword against us. He’s just trying to intimidate us! To scare us into giving up!"
She nodded firmly, though her eyes still betrayed a hint of uncertainty.
"That’s all it is. We just need to charge at him and attack! The plan hasn’t changed!"
But the twin-tailed centaur beside her shook her head frantically.
"But Nella, what if it’s not a bluff? What if he really does swing that thing? I don’t want to die!"
Another child, her face pale with fear, added: "Me neither! I love my fruits too much to die so young!"
"And I have so many years left to live!"
Another voice piped up: "If I’m going to die, I want to die protecting the queen! Not in a pretend battle in the village square!"
Luca had to hold himself back from laughing at how adorable that statement was.
Even Sigrid felt a reluctant surge of pride at the child’s knightly spirit.
Nella, however, remained resolute.
"Trust me. Or rather—" She narrowed her eyes with determination. "—trust Master Mavis. She told us the Hero would never hurt us. She promised. And Master Mavis is never wrong!"
The name hung in the air like a banner of defiance.
One of the other children, a small, nervous thing with fluffy grey fur, spoke up hesitantly.
"But what if she is wrong this time? What if the Hero really does attack us?"
Nella drew herself up to her full height.
"Then we will die facing the Hero. We will die upholding our virtues. There is nothing wrong with that."
She placed a small hand over her heart.
"Our purpose in life is to give everything for our queen. Today, we do so for our commander. The principle is the same. So there is nothing to fear."
The other children considered this solemn declaration. Then slowly, one by one, their expressions shifted from terror to determination.
Their tiny hooves stopped trembling. Their grips on their wooden swords tightened.
"Yeah!" One shouted. "Let’s do it!"
"We can’t let him scare us off!"
"He’s just a big bully with a big sword!"
"The Mini Galloping Brigade never retreats!"
"We’ll show him what real courage looks like!"
The transformation was remarkable. These children, who moments ago had been on the verge of fleeing in terror, had somehow found their courage again.
They looked, for all the world, like miniature knights preparing for a glorious final stand.
Sigrid watched with complicated emotions.
A part of her was deeply proud of their bravery—this was exactly the kind of spirit she wanted to foster in the next generation.
But another part of her wanted to shake them for being so foolish. Charging into certain defeat wasn’t bravery; it was recklessness.
And yet, when she saw Luca giving her a side-eye, she understood what he was doing.
He was showing her a mirror of their own stubbornness.
The same unshakeable belief in their own principles, no matter how misguided.
It was, in its own way, quite clever.
"Alright!" Nella shouted, raising her wooden sword high. "Everyone ready?"
"READY!" The children chorused.
"For Big Sis Sigrid!"
"FOR BIG SIS SIGRID!"
"And to defeat the evil Hero!"
"DEFEAT THE EVIL HERO!"
Nella turned to face Luca, her expression fierce despite her diminutive size.
"Evil Hero! Today, we will reclaim our commander’s honor! Prepare yourself for the might of the Mini Galloping Brigade!"
She pointed her sword at him dramatically.
"CHARGE!"
And they charged.
The distance between them was small—barely a dozen feet—but with their tiny hooves, the approach took several seconds.
"Surround him!" Nella shouted. "Flank positions! Don’t let him escape!"
Despite the chaos, the children executed the maneuver with surprising coordination, clearly something they had practiced.
Within moments, Luca found himself encircled by a ring of tiny centaurs with their eyes blazing with determination.
’Damn...did I just enter pony heaven?’
Adorable children on all sides, their fluffy tails swishing with nervous excitement, their tiny hooves stamping against the ground.
He wanted nothing more than to throw his sword aside and start patting heads and pinching cheeks.
But he barely maintained his intimidating facade.
"Attack!" Nella cried.
And they did.
thwack! thwack! thwack!
A dozen wooden swords swung simultaneously, striking Luca’s body from every direction. The blows landed against his legs, his abdomen, his arms—anywhere the children could reach.
And the children were shocked by what they felt.
His body was hard. Incredibly, impossibly hard.
It was like hitting a training dummy carved from solid wood—no, even harder than that. Their wooden swords vibrated with the impact, sending tingles through their small hands.
But more than that, they wanted to see how Luca would react.
Would he really swing that massive blade? Would he actually hurt them?
They looked up—
And were pleasantly surprised to find that Luca had already discarded his weapon back into a portal, and he was just standing there with a smile on his face.
Nella’s heart soared.
"I was right! I WAS RIGHT!" She shouted, her voice ringing with triumph. "The Hero really won’t hit us! Master Mavis was correct! Everyone, keep attacking! Take him down!"
The children needed no further encouragement.
They erupted into a frenzy of adorable violence, raining blows upon Luca from every direction.
"Take that! And that!"
"Pony attack!"
"Eat my tiny hooves!"
"Hooves of fury!"
"Fluffy formation! Surround him!"
"For the herd! For friendship! FOR VICTORY!"
They employed various tactics as they fought—switching positions, attacking in waves, trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
The first ring of ponies would strike while the second ring repositioned, ensuring a constant barrage of attacks.
"Keep hitting him! He’s getting wobbly!"
"I think it’s working!"
"Don’t give up! We can do this!"
But despite their ferocious efforts, Luca...
Luca didn’t felt not even a whisper of pain.
To him, the blows felt like the gentlest of massages, tiny taps from wooden swords that could barely be considered weapons.
The children’s arms were also too weak to generate any real force. Their movements were clumsy, uncoordinated, and utterly adorable.
Every "attack" simply felt like a pleasant little pat against his muscles.
The "strongest" attack came from Nella herself, and even that just felt like a particularly satisfying massage point being hit.
He glanced toward the mothers watching from the sidelines, wondering how they were reacting.
To his surprise, some were looking at him with apologetic expressions, clearly embarrassed by their daughters’ behavior.
Others were shaking their heads at Mavis’s influence, muttering about how they would need to have words with that girl.
But surprisingly, none of them looked angry at him.
In fact, many of them were looking at him with something that might have been...approval?
He was pleasantly surprised. Honestly, when he’d pulled out the massive sword, he had expected the mothers to step in and stop him.
After all, these were their daughters, and no mother would risk him actually hurting them. But the fact that they didn’t intervene at all showed that they actually trusted him—just like Mavis had trusted him when she developed this plan in the first place.
’Maybe I’m not as hated as I thought...Atleast the MILFs don’t seem to despite me.’
He then caught Sigrid’s eye, and she silently mouthed:
’Do you need help? Should I pull you out?’
He shook his head, his eyes having a mischievous glint.
’This was his battle now, and he knew exactly how to win it.’