Pedarson had already beco bleak in the final days of autumn dusk and the early days of winter. The trees were bare, but the forest still seed like a monstrous beast lurking on both sides of the road.
The sound of hooves echoed from afar. Eleven knights broke through the white fog, charging into the silent morning.
To ensure speed, the riders had their steeds maintain a small, trotting pace, but did not gallop at full speed—they still had a journey of over a hundred miles to reach Luda and needed to conserve their horses' strength.
Except for the rider in the middle carrying a long black-wrapped package, the others were fully ard. Swords and glinting crossbows occasionally peeked out from their long cloaks. The knights remained highly vigilant, constantly scanning their surroundings. The early winter forest was cold and desolate, but wolves still road the woods.
The knights pressed forward and soon reached a small river. The river, not yet frozen at this ti of year, shimred in the light, and there was a cold stone bridge on the riverbank. Suddenly, the leading knight raised his hand cautiously, signaling the others to stop.
The knights tightened the reins, halting their warhorses, and looked around. The lead knight lowered his hand and gestured to the left and right—the sign of an ambush—and then turned his horse around, drawing his longsword from his waist.
The knights followed suit, turning their horses in unison to form a circular formation around the escort. The precise movents showcased their rigorous training, a level well beyond that of the Erune reconnaissance cavalry.
However, as the knights moved, there was a rustling noise in the forest. A number of noble private soldiers clad in leather armor rose from the bushes on both sides, ard with weapons—war axes, small round shields, or crossbows.
Realizing they had been discovered, the ambushers prepared for a frontal assault. However, the knights reacted even faster, without hesitation unfastening hand crossbows from their belts and firing in all directions. A few ambushers who had just erged from the brush fell back onto the road, shot down instantly.
The knights' archery was exceptional, and they continually turned their horses while shooting arrows around them. Many ambushers were hit directly in the throat, falling dead so swiftly that their bodies quickly ford a circle around the knights. But the Erune cavalry had limited ammunition for their rapid-firing crossbows, a fact known well by the private soldiers, who launched a shouted charge from the forest after five volleys.
The knights, however, were not overly concerned. They lifted their cloaks with their left hands and smoothly drew hand axes from beneath with their right, throwing them forward in unison. Screams of agony echoed across the sky, startling birds from their dreams and sending them flapping away from the surrounding woods.
The ambushers, caught off guard, fell in the front row instantly.
"Quick! They have no weapons left!"
"Don't let them reload!"
But the sickening sll of blood in the crisp morning air only excited these desperate n. So noble private soldiers yelled wildly—they had a tenfold nurical advantage and were willing to use sheer weight of numbers to overwhelm the knights.
The calm efficiency of the knights had enraged them, and the ambushers charged forward madly, trying to turn the battle into a brutal lee.
Unfortunately for them, things did not go as they imagined.
The opponents were far stronger than anything they had anticipated. The knights drew their swords in unison, and the scene changed dramatically. Silver gleams from the longswords crisscrossed, forming an almost impenetrable net that the reckless ambushers repeatedly slamd into.
Blood and flesh flew, mangled bodies and limbs falling back, raining down bloody drops on those behind.
The majority of the ambushers were utterly stupefied. When setting up the ambush, they were inford the opponents would be a group of the kingdom's cavalry. No one told them these knights possessed Silver Peak-level strength.
Initially, the noble private soldiers could rely on montum to rush toward the emotionless knights, who seed like death gods. But before long, the morale of this rabble completely collapsed.
Before they could even get close, they had already lost nearly a third of their n. As their fevered minds cooled, the soldiers realized the terror they faced. Without needing a reminder, they scattered and fled—even faster than they had co, at least twice as fast—
User Comments
0 comments from readers