The slaves were running frantically into the woods, while the brave Kaiden Mercenaries galloped on horseback, occasionally knocking a few down with the backs of their blades, as infantrymen holding ropes swarmed in to tie these slaves up tightly. But even more slaves were still scattering. The demi-humans and misbegotten were short in stature; once they crouched in the grass, they were very hard to spot, not to mention that when pushed to the brink, they would fight back, and several people had their throats bitten through on the spot. It was absolute chaos.
Soldiers holding torches high were everywhere. Capturing people was much harder than killing them; one had to get right up to them to do it. And before they had finished with that, carriages had already burst through the checkpoints, fleeing wildly. "Stop!" Now even the castle guards rushed out, though they also dared not shoot to kill; in this day and age, anyone daring to run wild outside had powerful forces behind them. Chaos was the theme of the night, but when the dark clouds completely covered the full moon, the slaughter had only just begun.
Throne poked his head out from the crenellations. The two archers in front of him were leaning out to look outside; although they had arrows nocked on their strings, they dared not fire. He made a'stop' gesture to Alexander behind him, pushed off with both hands to leap onto the wall, then rolled to land behind the archers, his dagger slicing horizontally to sever both their Achilles tendons. The archers immediately fell backward, and just as they were about to cry out, they saw two cold glimmers enlarge in their vision. Pfft! Pfft! The daggers entered their throats, extinguishing all life.
"Come up." Throne twisted his wrist and pulled out the daggers. Seeing the Pot Person clumsily roll into the city wall, he drew the straight sword from an archer's waist, held it in his hand, and weighed it lightly, feeling it was barely usable. To be safe, he did not use his signature 'star-frost'; besides, there was no need to use magic in this kind of situation. "You finished them off so quickly." Alexander used the honorific quite naturally. Seeing a blade handed over, he waved his hands repeatedly, "Forget it, I still prefer using my fists." "Suit yourself."
Throne didn't try to persuade him and looked up to scan his surroundings. The castle was not large, with only one tower, and a covered bridge led directly to the main building. From the reconnaissance he had done earlier, the group of nobles was on the third floor. Did he have to cross that wooden bridge? Throne looked to the right, where there was a wooden plank bridge. There were still a few people on top of the castle; if they rushed over, they would definitely be discovered. As for taking a detour from downstairs, that was not in his considerations.
Once they heard the alarm, those nobles would flee, and he had gone to such great lengths precisely because he didn't want to leave a single survivor. "Big Brother, how do we fight next?" The Pot Person tucked in his legs and crawled quietly to Throne's side. By the light of the brazier on top of the castle, they could see four archers who hadn't moved, and it was unknown how many enemies were inside the castle to which the wooden bridge led.
"If we drag this out, the enemies who went out will return, so no need to ask—" Throne tossed the shield leaning against the wall to Alexander, sheathed his sword at his waist, and picked up the bow nearby. "You in front, me in back. Kill everyone you see!" As soon as he finished speaking, he charged out directly, using his longbow to sweep over and knock down the braziers one by one. Alexander indeed rushed out without hesitation, picking up two shields to hold over his head. "Who's there!?" A roar came from above.
Throne walked forward silently, and soon heard the shrill whistling of arrows piercing the air. Ding. The arrowheads deflected off the wall. After the braziers were extinguished, the visibility was dim, and it wasn't that easy to hit them. "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" The archers were no fools; they immediately sounded the alarm, then quickly nocked their strings and fired in volleys. Throne slowed his pace, letting the Pot Person charge to the front. Thud, thud, thud... The sound of arrows piercing the wooden shields was constant.
Occasionally, arrows hitting Alexander's body were also deflected. The Pot Person's body was itself a kind of armor, making it difficult for ordinary sharp weapons to pierce, though it feared bombardment by blunt weapons. Seeing that he had drawn the enemy's fire, Throne, who was following behind, raised his bow and fired. The braziers on the top of the castle were the best aids. With every release of the bowstring, someone immediately fell down with a scream. One. Throne followed up again, hooking the string with his thumb and index finger, suppressing them at a speed of two arrows per second.
His archery style was different from that of The Lands Between; he focused on the speed of firing. His arrows were like a string of pearls; one person was suppressing three archers so they couldn't lift their heads. By this time, the two had reached the middle of the wooden bridge, and Alexander in front suddenly shouted:
"Big Brother, someone's coming!" Just as his arrows were exhausted, Throne leaned out to look and saw two noble knights wearing chainmail rush out of the bridge tunnel, shouting lowly:
"Crouch and raise your shields!"
They were stunned when they saw the Pot Person on the bridge, and then saw the latter lay the shields down to form a springboard. Next, a familiar yet unfamiliar figure jumped out from behind the shields. Silver armor, a helmet wrapped in a cloak—
"The Banished Knight!?" Throne did not answer; he just stepped on the shields and leapt violently across the wooden bridge, crossing his arms and drawing the straight swords from his waist at the same time. Clang—
Two cold glimmers were left in the night.
He sprinted up, leapt heavily, and flew with a knee strike toward the large shield of the knight on the left. Bang! The momentum sent him rolling right off the bridge. With a thud, he fell and couldn't get up for a long time. Throne, who had surged forward a few steps, just happened to dodge the greatsword swung by the other knight, then twisted his waist and turned, his dual swords flashing repeatedly. Clang, clang, clang... Sparks were splattering all over the armor.
It was very hard for a straight sword to pierce armor, but Throne's strength forced him to retreat again and again; he couldn't find any opening to counterattack at all. Just as he managed to stop, his vision was suddenly occupied by a dark shadow. Bang!! Two shields slammed directly onto his head, making his brain buzz on the spot. Just as he was forcing himself to stand steady, the eyes beneath his visor saw a silver light striking toward him. Pfft. One sword pierced through his brain, even sending his helmet flying into the sky.
Throne leaned forward, letting the blood splatter onto his expressionless face. Apart from the good quality of their armor, this kind of noble knight was not even as strong as a Cuckoo. He kicked the knight's corpse off the wooden bridge. With the sound of metal rubbing against bone, the notched straight sword was already drawn, and then he turned and swung it. Pfft! Two soldiers who had just rushed out of the bridge tunnel were struck in the chest by the sword; their chainmail was pierced through directly, and they were skewered together just like that.
Corpses tumbled into the tunnel. Throne snatched the fallen knight's greatsword and lunged into the chaos as the soldiers scrambled to dodge. He wielded the heavy greatsword in one hand, the nimble straight sword in the other. The greatsword shattered shields; the straight sword slit throats. Three spears thrust forward, blocking the doorway. Throne ducked, letting the spears graze his back. A soldier swung his sword down. Clang!
The thin straight sword struck shoulder armor and bounced off. The soldier's hand went numb, but he barely noticed—the knight was already on him. "You think armor's made of paper?" Throne's grip tightened. Pale airflow surged from his hand. Storm Blade! The greatsword swept across. Metal tore, bones snapped. Soldiers within three meters were cleaved in two. The spiral staircase turned the carnage grotesque—some cut at the waist, others losing legs.
The screams lasted an instant. The cold knight stepped on their chests, thrusting his straight sword into their faces. The doorway became a slaughterhouse. Throne wiped blood from his face and roared at the Pot Person still on the wooden bridge, taking fire: "What are you standing there for? Follow me!" Alexander jolted awake. He stepped into the doorway, littered with severed limbs, and watched the knight's back as he charged up the stairs. Excitement surged through him.
This slaughter—violence and technique fused—was art at its highest. "Stop." Throne raised his hand sharply. He never overthought in battle. Above, a Kaiden Mercenary stood dozens of steps away. Strong. The leader? Throne's blood-soaked gaze locked onto the mercenary's grave expression. His eyes shifted. Nobles descended in a panic, led by the Count. They met on the narrow path, both sides halting simultaneously. The thick stench of blood filled the air.
Count Brant finally spoke. "Your Excellency, the Banished Knight and I have no quarrel!" "You didn't. Now you do." Throne climbed upward, dragging his sword. The greatsword scraped the stairs, sending sparks flying. "Impossible." The Count wasn't trembling. He maintained his dignity, glancing anxiously out the window while keeping his composure. "If Lord Godrick sent you to kill me, I'll pay double—no, triple!" "This isn't about money.
You might not know—" Throne stopped, crouching slightly. The greatsword hid behind him. He stretched out his left hand, thumb pointing at his own face. "The dragon. I slew it."
The narrow path left them face to face, separated by mere steps. Soldiers rushed back, alarms blaring. Throne didn't have time for nonsense. The dragon? I slew it? The Count's pupils contracted. He retreated upward. He wasn't a fool. The moment he heard it, he knew there was no turning back. "Stop him!!" He roared, turning to flee.
Kaiden and Throne moved at the same instant. One gripped a saber and round shield, the other hefted a greatsword. They met head-on on the stairs. A dull thud echoed as shoulder armor crashed into shield. The greatsword scraped against stone, then surged upward in a slash that met the thrusting saber. Sparks exploded. Clang— Both men staggered back half a step. Kaiden rotated his wrist; the force of the blow had numbed the crook of his thumb.
Through the gap in his shield, he saw Throne crouch low a few meters away, sharp wind pressure gathering beneath the knight's boots. Storm Blade. Gale and leg strength combined, propelling the greatsword forward like a spear. Kaiden dropped his stance, angling his shield into an inclined plane. He leaned forward, slashing the moment the sword tip touched the shield. Swish—clang! A clever deflection. His saber clashed with Throne's straight sword in the knight's left hand.
Good technique. Throne glanced down at the mercenary beneath him, braced his greatsword against the shield, and drove his knee upward. It slammed into Kaiden's forearm. The dull impacts were relentless. Throne forced Kaiden upward, step by step. Suddenly, he released the pressure, and the greatsword whipped backward. Swish—
A crossbow bolt split in midair. Throne's gaze flicked to the soldiers surging up the stairs below. He hurled his straight sword.
The crossbowman reloading didn't even register the sword until it struck his face. He screamed, tumbling down the steps. "Block the ones behind," Thorne ordered. "Got it!" Alexander, too large to maneuver, twisted his body, tucked his limbs tight, and rolled down the stairs like a barrel.
The soldiers packed together didn't react in time. They were bowled over. Alexander leapt up instantly, hammering both fists down on the head of a knight trying to rise. Clever use of terrain. Impressive. Thorne caught the movement in his peripheral vision and nodded in approval. Then he pounced on Kaiden, who had just steadied himself. The greatsword's heavy downward slash cracked the shield.
Kaiden sucked in his stomach and leapt back as Thorne's straight sword lashed horizontally. Another step, and the greatsword was there again, filling the narrow staircase with relentless strikes. Thorne felt the thrill of overwhelming force. The sword's edge carved marks into the walls. Kaiden had no way to block—only retreat, step by step, toward the hall. Then the damned nobles slammed the door shut.
Kaiden's back hit the wood. Thorne's barrage paused. The greatsword rose high, charging for a final, decisive strike. Kaiden didn't beg. Didn't flinch. He flung his shield aside and charged straight at Thorne. Battle-hardened instincts took over. Life and death reversed in an instant. Gripping the saber with both hands, he slashed cleanly toward Thorne's neck. Whoosh—
The bright saber light remained in the night, but there was no feeling of striking a solid object in his hands.
The knight vanished. Not vanished—reappeared two meters away, swords already raised. Bloodhound's Step. "Advice for your next life," he said, voice slicing through the air sharper than steel. "Don't bet on their morals." Throne moved before the last syllable died. A leap, a twist, twin blades carving an X through flesh and bone. Armor split. Ribs cracked. Muscle parted like wet paper.
The mounted mercenary came apart in four neat pieces. Throne's boot slammed into the corpse's chest. The oak door exploded inward. Splinters and severed limbs rained down on the nobles scrambling at the balcony ropes. They turned—just in time to see the demon wading through the wreckage, drenched in gore, each step leaving crimson prints on the silk carpets. Breath fled their lungs. Hearts stuttered.
The cold aura made hearts thump. That bald baron hurriedly waddled forward, jowls trembling. "Mercy—name your price!" Swish. Swish. Swish. Blades answered for him.