Chapter 105: What Good Man Fights a Witcher?
The squint-eyed man screamed in agony. His arm was first wrenched behind his back by Arthur, then pulled up and over his shoulder, breaking with a sharp crack.
Facing the charging cavalry, Arthur sneered coldly. He abruptly grabbed the man by the back of his tunic and hurled him toward the foremost horseman.
"Kill!"
Leading the charge was a lancer. Seeing his comrade flung at him, he made no attempt to dodge. Instead, he leveled his spear, driving it straight through the squint-eyed man! His eyes flashed with a savage frenzy. The honor of winning a fight against a Knight of the Royal Bench, even an unarmed one, would be enough to earn the King's favor. Compared to that, what did a comrade's life matter?
"You foul beast! Do you plan to nail me to the ground along with him?"
Arthur instantly saw through the man's intentions, but he wasn't flustered. Rather, he found it somewhat amusing. These cowards, who only preyed on the weak, always assumed they could do whatever they pleased if an opponent was unarmed. They never stopped to consider why he dared to walk alone into the midst of so many soldiers.
A wave of pale blue energy suddenly burst forth, sweeping across the battlefield like a strong gale. The charging warhorses all skidded to a stop, rearing violently. Three soldiers with poor horsemanship were immediately thrown to the ground.
"Witchcraft! This bastard is using witchcraft! Shoot him now!"
Some cried out in alarm, while others pressed forward blindly.
The lancer was closest to Arthur and had endured the full force of the Battle Shout, yet he wasn't completely overwhelmed by terror. He managed to forcefully steady himself in the saddle, though he was compelled to drop his lance. The fellow had decent battlefield experience. He instantly realized his horse was panicking and uncontrollable, so he simply leaped to the ground, raising his sword to strike at Arthur's neck.
Faced with this vicious attack, Arthur didn't dodge. Instead, he punched straight toward the blade, intending to meet the longsword with his fist!
Snap! The sound of the protective shield shattering was like breaking glass. The lancer's longsword was jarred, nearly flying from his grip. Conversely, Arthur's fist loomed larger and larger in his vision.
A sliver of shock finally crossed the lancer's mind: Are all Temerian Knights of the Royal Bench monsters?
But the man was an old soldier with rich combat experience. Seeing he couldn't dodge in time, he decisively threw his head forward to clash with Arthur's fist. The frontal bone is the hardest and thickest part of the skull. Even if struck by a blade, it is difficult to penetrate. If it fiercely collided with a fist, the forehead might survive, but the knuckle bones would likely break.
Facing the lancer's headbutt, Arthur had no intention of pulling back his punch. He simply opened his hand, as if intending to strike with the heel of his palm.
Just as his hand was about to connect with the forehead, a fireball suddenly appeared in Arthur's palm. He had, in fact, shifted the fireball from his left hand to his right!
Boom!
Arthur was only using a basic Fireball spell. Its power was quite ordinary, but it was not something one could endure with their face.
The lancer screamed, falling backward. He struggled to get back up, but his limbs wouldn't obey, causing him to roll on the ground, unable to rise.
"Aard!" Arthur glanced over, recognizing the man was suffering from a severe concussion, and ignored him. He turned and used the Aard Sign against another enemy at his side.
That soldier was already wrestling with his own panicked mount when a shockwave hit him. His hands flew up, and he tumbled down. He slammed hard against the ground, seeing stars, the air squeezed from his lungs. Before he could recover his breath, he felt a sudden coldness pierce his chest, and his consciousness rapidly faded.
Arthur had caught the man's dropped longsword and plunged it into him.
Seeing Arthur defeat two men instantly and gain a weapon, the remaining soldiers became nervous, none daring to step forward.
Someone instinctively looked toward the trees—Why weren't the crossbowmen firing yet?
Whoosh…
In his horrified vision, a wooden spear, traveling with a heavy whooshing sound, shot out from the edge of the forest. Before he could even cry out, he was pinned to the ground by the wooden spear.
Immediately following, two more wooden spears flew out. One pinned a soldier to Arthur's right, while the other missed its mark, grazing the outermost soldier before burying itself in the ground.
Jackbar had arrived.
"Don't let them get away!" Arthur commanded the Treant through the psychic network while swinging the longsword wildly.
The blade was merely a standard-issue longsword, yet in Arthur's hands, it felt like a legendary weapon. Every swing found the weakest point in the armor.
"This bastard is tough! Grab his companions!"
Seeing Arthur's ruthless skill, the soldiers dared not engage him head-on. Someone yelled a command, and they all turned, bolting westward.
Seeing these fellows run towards his companions, Arthur grew worried. He flipped onto a still-bucking horse, and after forcibly calming it with the Axii Sign, he paused in the saddle for a moment.
Facing the fleeing soldiers, another group of people was running toward them in a blind panic. Both sides were so frantic they collided without looking.
The soldier who had first suggested capturing Arthur's companions was knocked to the ground and rolled several times. He didn't bother swearing, scrambling back to his feet to continue his escape, but then froze after looking around.
On the western road, Geralt, Koglgrim, and Zoltan strode forward side-by-side, their weapons stained with fresh blood. Dandelion followed behind, lute in hand, looking slightly dazed.
To the south, Maria sat sideways on the horse, Ciri clutching her waist with one hand and a sack of arrows in the other, her face a mix of tension and excitement.
"Run! The she-devil is coming!"
Seeing Maria appear, someone shouted and ran northward—only to be predictably pinned to the ground by a wooden spear.
Despair hung heavy over the remaining soldiers. They looked at each other, then suddenly turned and charged towards Arthur's position:
"Split up and run! There's only one man this way!"
Being treated as the soft target annoyed Arthur and made him laugh. It was understandable they didn't dare charge Geralt and the others; but Maria only had one combatant, and Ciri was practically dead weight… Yet, in their eyes, he was somehow the softest target!
"I've been underestimated…" Arthur muttered, spurring his horse forward. The longsword cut a brilliant cold arc through the air, and a severed head shot skyward, its face etched with despair.
"Need help?" Maria patted Ciri's thigh. The little girl reluctantly jumped off the horse, her mouth pouting enough to tie a donkey to.
"You two stay put!" Arthur shouted, reining his horse and splashing after the soldiers.
With the concussed soldier lying unconscious, he wasn't worried about finding out the truth behind the attack. As for the fleeing men, killing them all would be best, but letting a few escape was harmless. It would merely create more political friction later—but Verden was a small kingdom and wouldn't dare demand a Knight of the Royal Bench from Temeria.
For the deserters, it was a desperate flight. The damned Knight of the Royal Bench, relying on the speed of his warhorse, constantly pressed them from the south, forcing them inexorably northward towards Brokilon.
No one knew what secret agreement Temeria and the dryads had reached, but the unseen Treant relentlessly targeted the Verden soldiers with spears from start to finish, yet left the Knight of the Royal Bench completely alone.
Under the combined slaughter of the longsword and the wooden spears, the number of fleeing soldiers quickly dwindled to five. They had lost nearly all their armor during the chase, and despair was written on every face.
But the Goddess of Destiny seemed to favor them one last time. Rounding another bend, a lone traveler suddenly appeared on the road ahead.
The man was expensively dressed but was not riding any animal. He carried only an iron bar over his shoulder, from which a large bundle was suspended behind his back.
"Grab that fellow! Hostage!"
Driven by Arthur's relentless pursuit, the fleeing soldiers were nearing madness. Although they sensed something was strange about the man ahead, they unanimously decided to fight for their lives.
.............
I want to take a moment to express my gratitude to those who support me on this journey. Your contribution make a real difference!
As a patron, you unlock:
Exclusive Access: Get advanced +120 chapters ahead of everyone else.
👉 Join now: P-a-treon/Chaos_God
(Just remove the- hyphen to access normally)
Thank You so much For your Support and for Reading!