Chapter 239: Deception, Encirclement, Annihilation (3)
Several savages, drunk on bloodlust, glared at Ghislain with frenzied eyes, awaiting him.
Most of the other savages were still preoccupied with attacking the shield-bearers, paying no attention to what was happening behind them.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
In sync with Ghislainâs charging speed, the Ferdium shield-bearers slowly closed the gap. However, not a single savage noticed this maneuver.
Thudududu!
The savages had already fended off the charge of a much larger cavalry unit. To them, a lone rider rushing in seemed laughable.
Ghislain smirked as he looked down at the overconfident savages.
The more arrogant they were, the better. He knew the pleasure of crushing their pride.
Boom!
âAaargh!â
In an instant, Ghislain broke into the savage formation, forcing his way through. The savages couldnât even think to block him with their bodies; his speed and strength were overwhelming.
Still, with so many of them clustered together, even Ghislain had no choice but to eventually halt his charge.
âHeâs alone!â
âKill him quickly!â
âFinish him and push forward!â
The savages, brimming with confidence, shouted as they moved. Their opponent might have seemed strong, but he was just one man. They believed a few warriors would suffice to deal with him.
But they were mistaken.
Vwoom!
Slash! Slash! Slash!
When Ghislain swung his spear in a wide arc from atop his horse, the necks of the savages rushing at him flew off simultaneously.
It was spear mastery of the highest order.
The sight of it startled the savages charging from behind, causing them to hesitate.
âOops.â
Taking advantage of the moment, Ghislain dismounted, spinning his spear with ease.
âSeems like I came a bit too quickly.â
Moving ahead alone had proven to be a problem. The Fenris Knights had yet to arrive.
Clicking his tongue, Ghislain laughed.
âTsk, tsk. Still lacking training.â
Had the knights heard this, they wouldâve felt wronged. Even Gillian had repeatedly tried to stop Ghislain, saying he was moving too fast. But Ghislain ignored him and rushed ahead alone.
This wasnât the first time Ghislain had plunged into enemy lines by himself.
Even in his past life, his subordinates begged him to move as a group, but he always led the charge.
To the most dangerous place, first.
This was the creed of the King of Mercenaries, one of the Seven Strongest on the Continent.
Whistle!
While checking the position of his subordinates, Ghislain briefly glanced back. In that instant, a savage warrior swung an axe at his back.
Clang!
Ghislain blocked it effortlessly with his spear, disarming the savage of his axe in the process.
âHuh?â
The savage widened his eyes in confusion, unable to comprehend how he had lost his weapon.
Crunch!
Ghislain smashed the savageâs skull with the stolen axe and murmured to himself.
âHm, this has a nice heft to it.â
Satisfied with the weight, he discarded his spear and picked up another axe lying on the ground.
Now wielding an axe in each hand, Ghislain grinned broadly.
âWell, shall we get started again?â
The savages, enraged by his nonchalant attitude, roared in fury.
âYou arrogant bastard!â
âHow dare you touch a warriorâs weapon!â
âWeâll rip you apart and offer you to the gods!â
The savages charged at him with loud war cries, only to be cleaved apart as Ghislain swung his dual axes mercilessly. Heads and bodies were split open in his wake.
His ferocity caused the savages fighting the shield-bearers at the front to turn their heads.
âWho the hell is that?â
âWhen did he get behind us?â
âKill him quickly and move on!â
Soon, more and more savages turned their attention to Ghislain, rushing at him en masse.
But no matter how many came, they couldnât match Ghislain. The number of savages charging at him kept increasing.
âAaaaaargh!â
Boom! Boom! Boom!
With each swing of his axes, the screams of warriors echoed. Yet, the surrounding savages kept coming, like moths to a flame.
As the number of slain warriors grew, so did the circle of savages encircling Ghislain.
Watching Ghislain become completely surrounded, Zwalter gripped his sword, ready to intervene. However, Randolph grabbed his arm firmly and spoke.
âItâs dangerous to go in now! Trust the Young Lord as promised! If you go in now, youâll only get in the way!â
âBut Ghislain is alone!â
âThe knights are arriving! Look over there! Just a little longer, please! The Young Lord wonât fall so easily!â
Zwalter turned to where Randolph was pointing. Indeed, a cloud of dust was rising in the distance as a group approached swiftly.
âDamn it!â
Zwalter clenched his teeth and released his grip on the hilt of his sword. They were coming. The Fenris Knights were charging madly toward the battlefield.
Chiiiik!
Ghislain, now drenched in enemy blood from head to toe, began emitting a crimson mist from his body.
Fully bathed in red, Ghislain moved at a speed no one could match.
âMy lord!â
Without hesitation, he rushed toward Ghislain. He couldnât bear the thought of his liege sustaining even a single scratch during his absence.
Swinging his weapon with reckless abandon, Gillian moved with relentless fury.
The Fenris Knights followed closely behind, plunging into the densely packed savages.
Boom! Boom!
âArghhhh!â
The savages screamed as they were crushed under the knightsâ charge.
Though a few, consumed by rage, tried to counterattack, they were no match for hundreds of knights advancing in unison.
Crack! Crack!
The savagesâ bodies were torn apart and pulverized in an instant. This was an entirely different level from the earlier skirmish involving dozens of knights and cavalry.
Hundreds of knights unleashed their mana.
No one could withstand the sheer destructive power.
This was the shock tactic Ghislain, the King of Mercenaries, had always prided himself on.
As the knights stormed in, the savage formation fragmented into multiple groups. Ghislain seized the opportunity and shouted.
âGillian! Kaor! Find the chieftains and kill them! Theyâre the ones with the ornate plumes on their helmets!â
âYes, my lord!â
âLeave it to me!â
Gillian and Kaor each led their knights, carving paths through the enemy lines. Naturally, this reduced the number of warriors targeting Ghislain.
Slash! Slash!
Wielding his twin axes with relentless ferocity, Ghislain advanced further.
None could stand in his way. Each warrior who charged at him had their heads smashed, arms severed, or necks slashed, leaving a trail of corpses in his wake.
At last, Zwalterâs long-awaited command rang out across the battlefield.
âAll forces, advance!!â
Clank! Clank! Clank!
The previously tight shield wall parted slightly, and spears thrust out from the gaps.
Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!
The savages pressing against the shields were caught off guard and fell without resistance.
The soldiers had endured patiently until now to ensure no savage escaped alive.
As the savages fell and space opened up, the soldiersâ formation shifted once more.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
The gaps between the shields widened, and spearmen charged out, attacking the savages.
Meanwhile, the knights and cavalry, who had momentarily retreated to regroup, re-entered the fray. The Fenris knights pressing in from the rear also continued their relentless assault.
Hundreds of gleaming swords and spears slashed and stabbed within the prison of shields.
The encircled savages, overwhelmed by the coordinated assault, fell one by one.
âArghhhh! You bastards!â
âWe curse you!â
âOur gods will never forgive you!â
The battlefield resounded with anguished screams and curses.
Some savages attempted to flee but found no escape.
Their front and flanks were sealed off by shields, while knights trampled their comrades to push in from behind. They were utterly surrounded.
âGaaaargh!â
No matter how fierce the warriorsâ fighting spirit, they couldnât withstand this onslaught.
Devoid of divine blessings or battle frenzy, they fought to the bitter end but eventually fell one after another.
Drenched in blood, Ghislain stepped over the corpses and finally stood before Custou. The massive manâs towering frame and face covered with countless tattoos were striking.
Ghislain looked up at him and asked.
âSo, youâre Custou?â
âYou bastard...â
Custou glared at Ghislain with eyes full of fury.
This single warrior had decimated countless of his rear-guard troops. The losses were catastrophicâirrecoverable in the short term. Even if they somehow won this battle, the Windhowl Tribe would be devoured by another great tribe.
âI will never forgive you!â
Custou channeled all the mana he could muster.
Among the savages, some could wield mana. They called this ability the Blessing of the Warrior.
Twice the size of Ghislain, Custou lifted his enormous axe.
Savages prided themselves on their strength. Though a chieftainâs dignity demanded they avoid fighting directly, Custou had no choice but to intervene to salvage the situation.
To back down now would shatter his pride as the strongest warrior of the north.
âDie!â
Vwoooom!
Clang!
Ghislain crossed his twin axes to block Custouâs strike. The force was so immense that Ghislainâs feet were pushed back, leaving deep impressions in the ground.
âOh, not bad. You donât become a chieftain of a great tribe for nothing.â
Chieftains were not appointed lightly. In their culture, the title was reserved for the strongest warrior. It was both their custom and their honor.
Custouâs strength was befitting his title. His power rivaled that of the kingdomâs most renowned knights.
âI am the great warrior Custou of the north!â
Boom! Boom!
Each swing of Custouâs axe seemed to split the ground. His strength was indeed extraordinary.
But that was all.
His technique was crude. Ghislain dodged effortlessly and seized the opening, striking Custouâs neck.
Thwack!
Blood gushed from Custouâs neck as Ghislainâs axe landed squarely on his carotid artery. Even so, Custou gritted his teeth and swung his axe once more.
Whoosh!
Ghislain took a step back, his expression one of disbelief.
âDamn, youâre just tanking that, huh?â