Flail.

At the front is a spiked hammer and at the back is a short club, connected by a finger-thin chain, usually the assembly of the Kingdom's elite hoplites, or, among the very few mercenaries who are adept at wielding weapons.

The weapon was very difficult to wrap around, the hammer on the chain was usually effective at breaking through the block, and the fine, sharp barbs on the top were stained with rust, and Gross's young body had very good eyesight, and he suspected that if he was pricked by that thing, there was a high probability that he would be infected with tetanus bacilli - he had already confirmed that the world in this game was a real world, and according to the medical standards of the Elantra Kingdom at this time, it would mean amputation.

That black bear is supposed to be a strength-type warrior. Gross had a guess about the genre, but for a moment he was not sure, and he turned his attention to the other two bears: Michelle the Grizzly Bear, whose weapon was a scimitar, and Brack, the White Bear, held a long spear, which was a common weapon for infantry in battle, and most of the time, it was used against enemies on horseback.

The three bears were dispatched together, and according to the experience of a veteran player, he already had a general idea in his mind - Michelle, who used the scimitar, was in charge of containment and cover, while White the Black Bear was attacking head-on, and as for the White Bear Brak, the long war spear was a sharp weapon for sneak attacks.

Gross had already rushed forward on a pony not much bigger than a donkey, and he held a sword in his hand, a standard weapon that was nearly three feet long—but the reckless action made the three-headed bear stunned for a moment.

"Who does he think he is?" White Bear Blak asked.

"Lecter the Brave?" Michelle scoffed, drawing his sword from its sheath. The name he was referring to was a cavalry captain in the War of the Fog Pines, who was known as a hero among the Northlanders during the Attack and Defense of Anjou for breaking through the Tasian defenses with a small number of men.

"That kid may have burned out his brain." The black bear among the three of them looked at the figure that was getting closer and closer in the field of vision, and smiled, he waved the flail, with a burst of tearing sound of tearing the air, and rushed towards the kid on the other side.

At the head of the castle wall, several probes appeared in the head.

"Wouldn't Mr. Gross have a problem doing that?"

Miss Mage asked softly, for this single-handedly heroic act, to be honest, she always felt that something was wrong.

"There should, maybe, probably not be a problem."

Oliver answered in a tone of uncertainty that was not so sure. He looked at the thick dust in the open field in front of the castle, and the Brute Bear Bandits had already launched a charge, while on his side, the bandit leader Gross was alone—such a situation made everyone in the Wolf Bandits feel a pang of guilt in their hearts, and they suddenly remembered that every time they encountered difficulties or dangers, the leader Gross always took the lead.

But this time, they actually cowered in the castle - people are often used to singing the praises of warriors and despising cowards, and Oliver, Scott, Levine, Ron, and others looked at each other, and for a moment their faces were faintly hot.

"Shall we not go out and help the gang leader?"

Looking through the branches of a few dead trees, Gross holding his sword aloft, the sunlight refracting a dazzling halo on the blade, Ron looked at the back of the bandit leader and suggested.

"The boss said that he was enough for one person." Levin replied.

"Gross is really good, but it doesn't seem appropriate for us to just stay still." Oliver said.

"Don't worry, I believe that the leader's arrangement will be reasonable."

Scott placed his long pole across the battlements of the wall, glanced at the band of brute bear bandits surging in front of the castle, and withdrew his gaze.

White the Black Bear seemed to have seen his flail slam against the skull of the boy opposite—the trajectory of the weapon swinging with the sprint of the horses, the air split in half in front of him, and the wind pressure that brought up his rag-like cloak made a hunting sound. The three bears charged in unison, and they were about to stagger with Gross.

These guys.

In the open field a hundred meters in front of the castle, the two sides rode and charged each other, and the distance between them was almost instantaneous. The billowing dust in the field adhered to his face because of sweat, and there was an indescribable feeling of suffocation, the long sword was pointed diagonally at the sky at a 45-degree angle, and Gross pursed his somewhat dry lips - he measured the combat power of the two sides at the moment, and with the confidence of a PK madman in a previous game, he didn't think it would be difficult to deal with these three guys.

But he had something special in mind—compared to the dwarf horse under him, the horse ridden by the three bears made him very envious: they were fine horses from the western realm of the kingdom, these horses were slender and well-built, and their fur had a moist radiance, and it was evident that they had been carefully cared for. The most important thing is that as a bandit leader and veteran player, he is well aware of the value of a good war horse in the current Northland.

Gross decides to seize the horses - but a harsh reality lies in front of him, compared to these well-blooded Westside horses, the pony under him, which is not much bigger than a donkey, is really unacceptable, which means that if the three bears see that the situation is not good, he will not be able to stop them.

This was the time for tactics to be revealed, and Gross made up his mind, and he turned his horse's head, and in full view of the three bears and the brute bear bandits, he rode his horse and fled in the direction of the castle gates.

"Mr. Gross?"

Radia rubbed her eyes, the lone hero who originally belonged to the real knight had a sudden change in painting style, and she couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

"The art of seducing the enemy. This is what the leaders often call the art of war. ”

Scott was convinced.

Gros rode on the bony back of the pony, the horse's hard ribs made his inner thighs hurt, and the animal, which had an iron rice bowl pulled by a mill, was forced to join in the thrill of the revolution of the times—gasping for air in the mouth with two rows of snow-white molars exposed, and the whipping pain from the buttocks made it run wildly, and in the process, the saddle on its back had somehow slipped to the side of its body.

The wind in my ears became fast. Gross heard the sound of horses' hooves behind him getting closer and closer, followed by a group of brute bear bandits shouting incessantly. However, he had no intention of turning back, as the slanting sun pierced through the mountains and forests, and he noticed the shadow of the wall in front of him—long before leaving the castle, Gross had made a conservative estimate of the quality of the horses on both sides, and for a distance, although there was a clear difference in the speed of the horses between the two sides, the other side could not catch up.

In response to such a situation, the Wild Bear bandits were stunned for a moment, and then frantically drove their horses over, with ridicule and insults in various local accents.

"The boss is back."

On the city walls, the members of the Wolf Bandit Regiment did not blink their eyes, fearing that something unexpected might happen. And Gross's mood at the moment suddenly fell into a burst of apprehension.