Thorne ignored him. Slowly, he raised a hand.
"Look, someone's trying to leave the city."
"Leave my ass. If they were really coming for us, there'd be torches everywhere by now."
The knight rolled his eyes, reaching for Thorne. His ears twitched. A faint grinding sound. Clack, clack, clack... Gears turning, the city gate opening. Not loud, but impossible to miss. Someone was sneaking out.
Ivan scrambled up, ignoring the wind. He pulled out his telescope.
A gap appeared in the south gate of Stormveil Castle. A dozen riders slipped out. Leading them, a tall figure in a gold-threaded cloak.
"Deserters?" Thorne joined him on the roof.
"They certainly are." The knight's hand trembled, holding the telescope. The wind whipped the leader's cloak. Grey hair. A glint of gold. A crown.
"We caught a big one. Assemble everyone."
"Oh, and—"
Thorne, already running for the edge, paused. He turned, confused. The expressionless knight spat out three words.
"Tell them, Godrick is fleeing!"
Godrick? Thorne was stunned. Then, it made sense. Stormveil Castle was lost. Godrick had to run. Quietly. If the garrison knew their commander had fled, they'd break. No chance of escape. Why now? Why did I have to run into him now? Bad luck, Thorne thought.
Then again, it was this night patrol, crossing the bridge, that drove them to flee.
Otherwise, when Finlay arrived, it would be too late.
"What are you waiting for?" The knight didn't look back, eyes fixed on the fleeing shapes. A flicker of murderous intent.
"That's a Shardbearer. Are you sure you want to engage?" Thorne's tone was calm. Pathetic as he was, Godrick was still of the Golden Lineage. A demigod. Possessing a great rune. Surrounded by knights.
"Are you afraid?"
"No. I just don't want to die pointlessly."
Ivan considered this, then said rapidly, "Fire a flare as soon as the battle begins. We only need to hold out until Her Highness arrives. Besides—"
"A knight should not turn their back on an enemy monarch!" Full of fighting spirit, Thorne gave the other a deep look and said no more, silently jumping off the roof. A short while later, sixteen cavalrymen stood with their horses beneath the small house. The wild wind on the hill made their capes snap loudly. Unlike Thorne, they were Malenia's subordinates and had no choice in the matter.
Fingers, white on hilts and spear shafts. Not a sound. Godrick. A true Monarch.
The world held things beyond simple logic. For a true warrior, honor eclipsed life and death.
The Cleanrot Knight settled her helmet. Her gaze swept the ranks, then found Thorne. "You are not of the Haligtree Army. You are free to leave, beyond the reach of military law."
"One step back, then another."
Thorne's grin was a feral display. "If I craved life and feared death, I wouldn't have lasted this long."
The Ashina Style: any means necessary. Its discipline: kill on sight. Wisdom and courage, both essential. Courage could drain fast. One moment of cowardice, one flight, and the next strong foe would bring only the thought of retreat. Exposing one's back.
"True. A hero and a coward, separated by a single thought."
The Cleanrot Knight clapped Thorne's shoulder. No grand pronouncements. She turned to her waiting soldiers. "Ready?"
Thump. A chorus of breastplates. Even a guest fought alongside them. Nerves be damned, they would stand as steady as old dogs. No losing face for the Haligtree Army.
"Then, mount up."
Clatter. Eighteen warriors, Thorne and Ivan among them, vaulted onto their horses. Armor clashed.
The enemy rounded the corner, bearing down on them. No time for plans. Courtesy demanded a question.
Ivan turned to his companion. "Any ideas?"
Thorne gripped the reins with one hand, star-frost in the other. He rose in the stirrups, peered through the gaps in the ruined house. A dozen enemies advanced in the gloom. A massive figure led them. Godrick Knights and Banished Knights followed. Their own numbers were greater, but their fighting strength, less.
Only four knights among them, including himself. The Haligtree cavalry, though not weak, might not best a single regular knight. Certainly not Godrick, the weakest demigod.
Thorne's experience, his intellect, found no path to victory. Fortunately, they needed only to delay. Tactics be damned. He tightened his grip on his long blade, embraced his wildness.
"When on a narrow path, the brave prevail."
"Good. Then let an ever-victorious army meet these panicked wretches."
Ivan raised his spear, its winged protrusions spinning above his head. "Wedge formation, charge with me!"
... Godrick had been very frustrated lately. He had finally managed to slip back to his territory from Leyndell, but because he had escaped in women's clothing, he immediately became the laughingstock of The Lands Between. In a mix of shame and rage, he made a decision that went against his ancestors:
He would undergo Grafting, and then use this forbidden power to claim the throne, making those demigods who looked down on him grovel and submit to the true Golden Lord!
Ever since he decided on Grafting, Godrick had entered a state of mania. Driven by obsession, he had turned his originally handsome body into a complete mess. Anyone who dared to advise against it would have their limbs cut off to be joined with the Lord. He no longer cared about the world's opinion. Taboos, cardinal sins—it was all nonsense. Only power could make those arrogant bastards submit. "Malenia, sooner or later I will lock you and Miquella in an iron cage together and have you perform a forbidden comedy for me." Godrick growled.
The thought of Malenia's disdainful gaze made him burn with rage, causing the knights beside him to quietly move away. Dreams are full, but reality is skinny. This dream of mania came to an end a few days ago. In a mere five minutes, the Grafting power he was so proud of was mostly sliced away by the Valkyrie, but Godrick could no longer turn back. "These bodies are too weak. Wait until I find a much stronger body, and the Lord shall return!" Even though he was fleeing in haste, he could still be full of grand ambition; Godrick's mindset was actually quite good.
Just as he was thinking about where to go to hunt a dragon, a Banished Knight caught up. "My Lord, a squad of Haligtree cavalry just crossed the bridge. They are likely nearby." "So what? I may not be a match for Malenia yet, but a monarch's authority isn't something any random trash can desecrate!" Godrick waved his hand dismissively, turned back to look longingly at Stormveil, and raised his voice:
"Pick up the pace, we're going to Fort Haight first!" The Banished Knight's mouth moved, but he ultimately said nothing.
Just as he was about to call to his companions, his raised hand froze in the air. A'shooting star' rose from the ground, exploding in the sky to reveal a red glow. His brain froze in that moment, and before he could recover, the thunderous sound of hooves rang out from the right. Clatter, clatter, clatter... He turned his head and saw the broken house on the hill smashed apart by a spear, followed by a knight charging out. Being hit from the side, the horses neighed and the group fell into some confusion. The knight controlled his horse while shouting:
"It's a Cleanrot Knight!
"Protect the Lord!"
"Protect what?!" Godrick hissed, anger flaring. Panic flickered. But only one Cleanrot Knight. Rage poured through him. I am a direct descendant of the Golden Lineage, the Lord of Limgrave. Since when did these lesser bloodlines dare insult him? His cloak hung in tatters. Pale skin. Ten arms. Some ended abruptly. Bone peeked out. Three held a spear, a sword, a shield.
Godrick reached down. Grasped a Golden Greataxe. He roared. "You commoners, feel the monarch's fur—"
A bright Glintstone Arc flashed before his eyes. A sorcerer too! He hadn't expected sorcery amongst the knights. He smashed the magic to dust with a single swing. A winged spear hurtled toward him. Clang! The greatsword, once on his back, met the spear. Ready to counterattack, the Cleanrot Knight had already swept past.
The spear plunged into the chest of a Godrick Knight, mid-draw, then continued, the corpse impaled. Hooves pounded. Ivan, the arrowhead. Eighteen warriors slammed into the enemy ranks from the side, a sharp blade. Thorne was in the fourth row. His eyes twitched. Godrick stood, unmoved, against the Cleanrot Knight's charge. The Haligtree Knights charged next. He didn't even glance.
The hideous arms pulsed. They seemed to possess their own awareness, casually deflecting spears and greatswords. The cavalry in the third row? Not so lucky. Slash.
The Golden Greataxe swept across, cleaving three soldiers in two. Blood sprayed. Thorne's face was splattered. He held his breath. He saw the spear on Godrick's back, aimed for him. He released the reins. Leaned back, flat. Whoosh! He felt the sting as the spear tip grazed his nose. The air rushed past his face. So fast. As expected of a demigod
Godrick was a bit surprised. His casual thrust hadn't actually skewered this little soldier. But he didn't take it to heart, preparing to kill all five of the oncoming small fry when a flash of magic came from behind. Thorne squeezed the horse's belly. Used his core to force himself up. Turned. Thrust out star-frost. Crystal Burst! From three meters away, the shards erupted. They clattered against the large shield on Godrick's back, leaving bloody scratches on his pale skin.
It was useless. A demigod's body could shrug off this kind of magic. But the horse Godrick rode? Not a demigod.
Neigh!
A pained cry. The horse's hindquarters, a bloody mess. Front hooves clawing the air, flinging Godrick from its back.
He moved fast. Shield up, instantly.
Clang, clang, clang—Pfft!
A cavalry charge, spears leveled. Ten times the force of a normal man. Four spears shattered. One found its mark, piercing his thigh.
"Argh!"
Godrick screamed. No armor. Before the cavalryman could pull his spear free, the shield launched man and horse skyward. A swing of the greataxe followed.
Rip—
Blood and shredded meat.
Another gust of wind. Godrick snatched a thrusting spear, yanking the rider from his horse. He slammed the man into the ground. A giant foot stomped the life out of him.
Hundreds of meters. The cavalry was already far away.
Are these demigods all monsters? His strength is probably no less than a dragon's!
Thorne's eyes flickered. He'd already charged through their ranks. The surprise attack, the cavalry's speed — still, five of the eighteen warriors were gone. Godrick, bearing the brunt, had killed four himself.
A cavalry charge finished in an instant. On foot, level ground? They'd be wiped out.
But the results weren't negligible. Besides Godrick's spear wound, four knights lay skewered.
"That was intense, wasn't it?"
Ivan panted, turning his horse. The remaining seven knights converged, front and back, forming a line.
"Cavalry charges… life and death decided in an instant."
Thorne took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Good thing I learned a few moves from Gyoubu Oniwa, otherwise falling off the horse would have meant certain death. He had stayed in Ashina for many years; he knew a little bit of swordsmanship, horsemanship, and even spear fighting. Ivan smiled, not doubting Thorne too much. If his horsemanship wasn't good, how could he call himself a Carian Knight? "Stay sharp. Damn it, a sorcerer mixed into a cavalry charge, what a mess." He cursed with a laugh, but he had seen Thorne's utility.
If the latter hadn't used magic to knock Godrick off his horse just now, the riders in the last two rows probably wouldn't have survived. "Catch." He tossed over a long spear, straightened his back, and raised his winged spear. "Horizontal line, let's go again." Amidst the sound of hooves, the remaining thirteen people lined up. The soldiers discarded their broken spears and pulled out shields and straight swords. In the middle, Thorne felt his heart start to race again. Under the glow of the full moon, there was also a wall of riders opposite them.
Spears and greatswords glinted with cold light as the two sides' icy gazes collided across several hundred meters. This tactic was appropriate. Mounted combat could level the strength gap to the greatest extent. In the blink of an eye, no martial arts were needed, only the courage to charge forward. Stormveil Castle in the distance had been awakened, but those noisy sounds were tuned out by every warrior. The horses were pawing the dirt uneasily, and the howling storm made people squint. Thump!! With a loud bang, the ground trembled.
The demonic Godrick slammed his Golden Greataxe into the ground and roared:
"Kill them all!" As the party busy running away, they had no intention of wasting time with the enemy. Anyway, the path here was narrow; if the enemies retreated any further, they would be within the range of Stormveil Castle's archers. "Kill!" Led by a Banished Knight, the horses reared their hooves, and the neat horizontal line pressed forward.