Chapter 316: Act 83 – Ambush
Entering the final days of autumn and the beginning of winter, Pidalsson was enveloped in desolation. The trees were already bare, but the forest loomed like a clawing monster, lurking on both sides of the road.
The sound of hooves approached from afar, as eleven knights broke through the white mist, plunging into the silent morning.
To ensure speed, the riders kept their mounts to a brisk trot but did not gallop—there were still hundreds of miles to Luda, and they had to conserve their horses’ strength.
Apart from the central rider, who carried a long, black cloth-wrapped package, the others were fully armored, swords and glinting crossbows occasionally peeking from beneath their long cloaks. The knights maintained high vigilance, frequently glancing around; the early winter forest was cold and dreary, but wolves still roamed within.
The knights pressed on, soon arriving at the bank of a small river. The river water had not yet frozen in this season; the surface shimmered in the light, and a lonely stone bridge stood on the bank. At this moment, the lead knight suddenly raised his hand, signaling the others to stop.
The knights tightened their reins, bringing their warhorses to a halt and looked around. The lead knight lowered his hand and gestured to both sides, indicating that someone was lying in ambush. He then turned his horse and drew a long sword from his waist.
The knights quickly turned their horses, forming a circular formation around the escorting leader. Their synchronized actions indicated that these knights were well-trained, a standard that even scouts in Erluin’s legions could not match.
But with the knights’ movements, the forest emitted rustling sounds, and from the bushes on both sides emerged a group of armed noble soldiers, each clutching weapons—battle axes, small round shields, or crossbows.
Clearly aware of being discovered, the ambushers prepared for a strong attack, but the knights were quick to react, even striking first. The black-clad knights unhesitatingly unsheathed their hand crossbows and began shooting. Several ambushers, who had just rushed out of the bushes onto the road, were knocked down before they could react.
The knights showcased excellent marksmanship, continually turning their horses to shoot arrows in every direction. Many ambushers were struck in the throat, instantly killed, with bodies rapidly forming a circle on the ground. However, the Erluin cavalry had limited ammunition for their repeating crossbows, and the mercenaries seemed aware of this. After five volleys, they shouted a battle cry and surged out of the forest.
But the knights remained calm, with their left hands brushing aside their cloaks while their right hands drew hand axes from beneath, throwing them forward. A chorus of screams erupted, startling many birds still dreaming, sending them fluttering into the sky from the surrounding forest.
The ambushers, caught off guard, saw their front line drop instantly.
“Quick! Charge! They have no weapons!”
“Don’t let them load!”
Yet, the stench of blood in the cold morning air only stirred excitement among these desperate mercenaries. Some noble soldiers shouted manically—they had an absolute numerical advantage, nearly tenfold over their opponents, and even if they had to pile bodies high, they were determined to overwhelm their foes.
The knights’ composed counter-attack enraged the ambushers, who rushed forward desperately, attempting to turn the battle into a chaotic melee.
Unfortunately, they quickly realized things were not as they had imagined.
The strength of their opponents far surpassed their expectations as the knights drew their swords, leading to a dramatic shift on the battlefield. Accompanied by the flashing silver blades—white energy streams crisscrossed—they formed an impenetrable net that the rash ambushers ran straight into.
Then it was a brutal scene, with flesh and blood flying, as corpses and limbs fell backward, causing a rain of blood to cascade onto the heads of those behind.
The ambushers were completely stunned. They had been informed before this ambush that their opponents were a group of royal knights, but no one had told them that each of these knights possessed peak silver-tier strength.
Initially, the noble soldiers were able to rely on inertia, surging forward towards the coldly indifferent knights, but within moments, the morale of this horde collapsed completely.
Before they could get close, they had already lost nearly a third of their number. As their heated heads cooled, they recognized the terrifying abilities of their foes, and without needing further reminders, they scattered in panic—escaping even faster than they had come, at least twice as fast—
The battle ended swiftly.
The lead knight halted, taking a deep breath of the blood-scented air, and raised his hand to stop the pursuit. How many ambushes had they encountered on this route? Pursuing was pointless; they couldn’t catch a valuable target, and their own mission was the most important.
All the knights stopped, checked their surroundings, then bent down to wipe their swords on the corpses before sheathing them.
Throughout the process, no one spoke, only the sounds of horses nudging one another—
The lead knight’s gray eyes scanned the battlefield as he surveyed the sea of bodies—these noble soldiers bore no distinctive markings to indicate their affiliations and did not raise any flags; they looked more like a band of mountain bandits—though bandits were not trained like this.
He then pulled down the hood of his cloak, revealing a gaunt, pale face of a middle-aged man. He glanced back; the knight they were escorting patted the long black package behind him to show he was safe. The knight then raised his head and lowered his mask.
Revealing a young man’s face.
Specifically, the owner of this face, Brendel, recognized him; he was Test, the Viscount Test. However, this viscount appeared somewhat altered; he had lost considerable weight and looked even worse in complexion over the past month, with his eyes seemingly burning with a lake-green flame.
“Safe.”
If Brendel were present, he would have been startled by the viscount’s voice. It was hoarse and dry, as if someone had stabbed a leak in his throat. The young man sniffed, as though uttering these words drained him of great effort.
“Who were these people?” the middle-aged man asked, looking at the corpses on the ground.
“Men of Duke Anlek,” Test replied in a raspy voice.
“Him?” The middle-aged man was slightly taken aback. “Isn’t that old fool trying to show goodwill towards us?”
“Nobles are all two-faced,” Test sniffed again. “You don’t need to look at me; I’m the same, so don’t trust me. If given the chance, I will definitely stab you in the back.”
The middle-aged man chuckled. “Interesting. But rest assured, I only trust my own.”
“Hmph,” Test didn’t even look at him as he pulled up his mask, ready to move again, but at that moment, the young viscount froze—
He saw a flash of green light in the forest, and his face suddenly turned pale.
“Careful behind!” Test immediately lowered his mask, speaking to the middle-aged knight.
The lead knight turned his head instantly, but it was a moment too late; a green light struck him in the chest. The middle-aged man was still shocked at what sort of sorcery this was, but his expression forever froze at that moment; Test witnessed the captain of the cavalry transform into a stone statue before his eyes.
That guy had come for them!
The young viscount’s heart raced; upon seeing this familiar scene, he recognized who was arriving. That nightmare-inducing memory continued to torment him, but he never expected it to turn into reality once more. He nearly wanted to turn and run, but his hands and feet felt rooted, paralyzed as if under a spell.
Then he saw the monster clad in emerald green armor emerge from the thicket—the knights were left dumbfounded; they had certainly witnessed their captain’s fate, but such a bizarre attack exceeded everyone’s comprehension, and they momentarily could not react—what should they do at this point?
Should they defend against the opponent? But it seemed no one dared to claim they had a better defense against such a green light. As for avenging their captain, who could ascertain the opponent’s strength?
For a moment, the knights were stunned.
Yet the jade knight emerging from the forest clearly did not share their concern. He stepped forward, targeting Test, who was protected at the center by all the knights.
And against the advancing knight, the young viscount with golden-tier strength found himself paralyzed in fear, even finding it tremendously difficult to utter a word from his throat.
“You…”
He had just squeezed out a word when finally, one knight could not bear it and took action against the jade knight. But the latter merely raised a hand to block the knight’s sword, and then that knight was both horse and rider thrown away, crashing into a nearby black pine tree, never to make a sound again.
The jade knight’s action clearly stunned everyone, but it also made the knights react—he was an enemy, not a friend! They all shouted in unison and thrust their swords towards him—but countless blades fell short, repelled by a faint green light surrounding the jade knight.
Top-tier magical armor.
Everyone’s hearts sank. The outer layer of top-tier magical armor had powerful magical defenses, capable of blocking not only typical magical attacks but also physical attacks from blades and swords.
Such armor had only been crafted during the most prosperous times of Erluin, when court alchemists produced only a few pieces. It was exceedingly rare, but those who possessed it were certainly not simple figures.
While the knights’ hearts grew heavy, they speculated about the identity of their opponent, unluckily, they did not realize their time was running out. Test could not open his mouth to warn them, as these knights discovered that starting from their swords—even magical swords, too—they were gradually turning to stone.
This discovery terrified them to the core, and the quick-witted ones immediately tossed away their swords, but it was of no use. Ultimately, these more than ten knights were transformed into statues standing motionless on the road.
Test watched this scene unfold, feeling as though he was about to collapse. Yet, in truth, as the jade knight slowly approached him, he found he was not driven to madness—though he perhaps wished he could have been, or better yet, considered this a dream.
The jade knight stepped slowly towards him under his warhorse, raised its head, and stared at him, neither speaking nor attacking, just standing there immobile.
…
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