HAH! Alvin swung his sword, beheading a Heretic. Blood splattered all over his helt's visor, even staining his eyes beneath it red and revealing a hint of extre madness.
After a bout of slaughter, the battle gradually subsided. When he looked around, another wave of rioters lay lifeless on the ground. The chaotic, bloody battlefield was a nauseating sight, but one to which the Knights were already accustod.
What they needed now was not to dwell on such matters; they needed rest.
This was not the first ti they had been ambushed. After consecutive battles, both n and horses showed signs of exhaustion.
So still maintained a degree of decorum, but those dragged from their horses sat directly on corpses, ripping off their helts to gasp for air. So horses even attempted to gnaw at flesh, unchecked by anyone.
As the battle's intensity rose, the Baron, who was truly in charge, rushed about attending to matters. Only after handling things did he find Alvin to report.
"The situation isn't too serious. No one is dead, just a few light injuries from falls. However, everyone's in poor condition. I suggest we find a place to rest and regroup."
These were, after all, Knights in full body armor. Once prepared, they found slaughtering these commoners easy. The rioters attacked in waves of only twenty or thirty, so despite the frequency of the attacks, they couldn't inflict substantial harm.
However, the attackers fought with reckless disregard for their own lives. No sooner had the Knights dispatched one group than they encountered another. At first, it didn't seem like much, but after several such encounters, they were struggling to hold on.
Even with superior equipnt and better-trained personnel, they were still human. They would tire, and if this continued, the situation could spiral out of control.
Alvin's attention, however, was not on this; he was too busy erupting in fury.
"Damn it! Why has our position been revealed? How did these rioters know to wait for us? Where did they even co from? Why would they throw their lives away for that Lord?"
Alvin roared, venting his fury. But what he found even more unbearable was that those lowly commoners actually dared to take up arms against him, to obstruct him.
The rioters' determination to die defending Hamlet plunged him into what felt like a people's war, waged by the denizens of Hamlet.
At least, that's what he believed.
The Baron remained silent, thinking it best not to provoke Alvin further for now and to let him vent first.
Honestly, he felt much the sa, unable to comprehend how these commoners dared.
And how could their own intentions have been exposed?
Could the news of the Sect of Ascension and the Barbarian Tribes attacking Hamlet have been leaked, prompting them all to co to the rescue spontaneously?
Various thoughts muddled his mind, leaving him montarily unable to sort anything out.
Indeed, because the main attacks were focused on Hamlet Town and the outpost, the Heretics who could trouble them were rely ordinary followers of the Sect of Ascension. They hadn't revealed their identities, which easily led to Alvin and his n misunderstanding the situation.
In truth, in the eyes of the Sect of Ascension's leadership, Alvin's group were all outsiders. Knowing too much was dangerous for them, as the Sect of Ascension ultimately operated in shadows.
Moreover, the higher-ups of the Sect of Ascension were eager to incite hatred against Lance and let him take the bla.
It would be best if the two territories went to war, delaying Lance's advance and buying more ti for the Sect of Ascension's plans.
"Do we really have no chance left?" Having vented his anger, Alvin gradually cald down. He then noticed that the column of smoke in the distance had already dissipated.
A sense of defeat blossod in his heart—the feeling of being willing to slay the enemy, yet powerless to change fate.
Early that morning, upon seeing the towering column of smoke, they knew it signaled an attack on Hamlet.
They were eager to rush over, whether to claim a share of the spoils or for so other reason.
But they had faced so many suicidal attacks along the way. Though their losses weren't severe, their combat effectiveness had been completely eroded.
So much ti had passed that they were now unsure of the exact situation.
"Let's rest first," the Baron said, seeing Alvin had cald down. "Then we'll send out a small, agile unit to scout ahead. We'll make our decisions based on what they learn." He had quickly found the most reasonable solution to their current predicant.
He knew Alvin wouldn't give up easily, but persuading him to let everyone rest for now was the best course of action.
Alvin was anxious, but he also knew that if they continued in their current state, the troop's morale would shatter.
"Rest and regroup! Send out scouts!" Alvin ordered. Then, as if rembering sothing, his temper flared again. "Damn that fellow for ruining my grand plans!" he cursed.
Just as the Baron sighed in relief, he saw Alvin grab his longsword again. He looked ready to strike soone, and the Baron sensed he'd better give him space.
The Baron knew Alvin was referring to the leader of the Eagle Flock, whose rash actions had resulted in only one survivor from their squad.
Otherwise, with the Eagle Flock scouting the surroundings, how could they possibly have been ambushed?
But just as the Baron was about to issue orders, a figure suddenly appeared, circling in the sky.
Seeing this, the Baron's brow furrowed slightly. He had just managed to calm Alvin down...
"Teacher! Look quickly!" Alvin shouted, as if he had grasped sothing crucial.
This left the Baron no choice but to take out his bird whistle and call the hawk down.
"There's no ssage." After checking the hawk, the Baron was perplexed. Conventionally, releasing the bird ant there was an urgent ssage to deliver.
He quickly realized sothing was amiss. Could there be trouble elsewhere?
"Is it possible the situation was too urgent? For example, what if the Barbarians broke through the town?" Alvin's face showed a thoughtful expression, but without a shred of composure, he imdiately jumped to a conclusion. "No, I have to go there!"
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