The next day, early in the morning.

In the cold air, it was drizzling.

In front of an ordinary village, two men in tattered linen clothes sat bored in a thatched house, quietly watching the rain fall.

In their hands, both of them held an arm-thick wooden stick, which was covered with dense iron nails, and there were still stains of brown blood on it that had been killed.

And as the rain gathers, a trace of red also faintly appears on the wet ground.

There was also a faint fishy smell in the air, like the smell of rotting corpses.

In the middle of the hut is a burning bonfire, next to scattered food scraps.

At this time, the bonfire is weakening, and one person plans to fill in some dry firewood.

However, just as he got up, suddenly his expression moved slightly, and not far from them, a large group of men and horses dressed in gray rain lily were hurrying towards this side.

Among them, the first few people suddenly took off the hunting bow behind their backs and quickly mounted their arrows.

'Snort, snort, snort!'

Then, several small voices suddenly sounded.

'Smack!'

A grey feather arrow slammed into his feet, instantly waking him up.

"Damn! it's Lannis's militia!! Baker, tell those adults!" he shouted when he found out about the situation.

Another person who also saw the anomaly quickly run through the back door of the thatched hut towards the village.

After a while, the originally silent village immediately boiled......

On the other side, on a hillside not far from the village, ten people led by James were waiting quietly on horseback.

The rain fell down their leather armor onto their horses, and then down again.

Everyone didn't say a word, and looked at the village not far away with solemn expressions.

Suddenly, a chaotic sound suddenly came from the originally silent village, followed by shouts of killing.

Hearing the voice, James slowly drew the cross sword from his waist.

With the sound of 'hiss' metal grinding, he pulled the reins from his hand.

"Now that Rickon and they're fighting, let's go. ”

No one spoke, but everyone was ready.

James glanced at the crowd and then rushed to the village first.

In the hazy drizzle, the hooves of the ten horses made a loud sound.

Dirt splattered out under the horses' hooves.

Soon, they reached the back of the village.

There were scattered arrows on the ground, but there were not many robbers who were actually injured by the arrows.

At this time, the militia had already fought some of the robbers, and the scene was very chaotic.

Although these bandits were fierce, they were too weak for the militia in terms of combat and numbers, and soon, several robbers died under the short spears of the militia.

It's just that in this chaotic battle, the figures of several tall men wearing silver armor and holding long swords are particularly conspicuous.

The militia's attacks did little to the men, and the short spears of the attack were easily blocked, and then they were slashed to the ground or pierced in the head by their sharp swords.

In a short time, the militia suffered far more casualties than the robbers.

"Draw the bow!"

James, on horseback, raised his crosssword and aimed it at the men who were clearly deserters.

Everyone quickly took off the short bow on their backs and quickly mounted a feather arrow.

"Shoot!"

'Whew!'

Several arrows were fired at those in armor.

But in a clink, only one person was unlucky enough to shoot in the left arm, and the others were either flying with their swords or blocked by their armor.

These soldiers, who escaped from the battlefield, seemed to be no stranger to the attack of bows and arrows, and reacted very quickly.

One of the burly deserters removed his helmet from his head, revealing a terrifying face covered in scars.

Seeing the fast horse rushing behind him, he turned his head and shouted loudly to the middle-aged man who had shot his left arm.

"How's Harry!?"

Using his sword to cut off the ends of the arrows that pierced his arm, the soldier named Harry had bloodshot eyes, and the pain made his face a little hideous.

"It's okay! I'm going to kill all the Worst minuses!"

"Good!"

The scar-faced man turned and slashed down a militiaman who was trying to sneak up, then quickly snatched the short spear from his hand and threw it in the direction of the servant.

'Whew!'

The spinning spear let out a soft screech in the air, and then with a 'bang', it stabbed into the eye socket of a horse and pierced through the back of the head.

The horse's blood and brains splattered that half of the body.

'Whoa!'

The galloping horse, which died in an instant, slammed into a wooden house with the top of it, and the sound of rolling chaos suddenly came.

This scene suddenly made James's face at the front gloomy, and the combat effectiveness shown by that man was not an ordinary deserter at all.

"Shoot through them!!"

With the scarred man's low roar, three or four silver-armored soldiers immediately ran in the direction of the servant.

They all held at least two short spears in their hands, obviously trying to emulate the strong man's attack just now.

'Sneer'

In the subtle sound, Ron on the horse only felt his scalp tingle.

A strong sense of crisis welled up from the bottom of my heart.

Before he had time to think about it, he jerked out the cross sword at his waist and held it in front of his chest.

'Bang!!'

His face turned red, and he felt as if he had been hit by a car and flew upside down from his horse.

With a 'poof', he crashed into a haystack.

The soft haystack didn't hurt him too much, but there was a strong tearing sensation in the palm of the hand holding the cross sword.

In that situation just now, if he hadn't reacted correctly, I'm afraid it would have pierced his heart all at once.

He moved his palm slightly, but it was only a flesh wound, not a bone injury.

Ron quickly pushed aside the haystack and got out of it.

Outside, the dismounted servants and deserters all gave up their long-range attacks and fought fiercely.

Each deserter is cared for by at least two servants or several militiamen.

At this point, Ron also noticed that something was wrong.

Although he knew that these deserters might be stronger than the militia, he didn't expect them to be so strong that everyone was almost comparable to a trainee knight.

And the strong man who gave the order before was even more fierce with James one-on-one.

Both sides are power-type, and the piercing sound of metal crashing faintly makes the ears of the people around them tingle, and the robbers or militia who are close around them all retreat far away, for fear of being affected.

In the heat of battle, several robbers seem to have spotted Ron crawling out of the haystack.

The blood flowing from the palm of his sword-holding hand seemed to make these guys think that he was seriously injured, and quickly and quietly approached him.

Seeing the people gradually surrounding him, Ron narrowed his eyes, shook his right hand, which was still a little painful, and then pounced on them.

'Bang!!'

The cross sword and a wooden stick studded with iron nails slammed together.

These inferior weapons were immediately cut in half, and then Ron exerted himself again

'Smack!'

The stick broke, and the sword slammed into the bandit's head.

A clear streak of blood emerged from the robber's face.

Without looking at the consequences of his attack, Ron quickly bent over and spun around.

While dodging a robber's sneak attack, the cross sword slashed right into the waist of another person.

Without the protection of leather armor and other armor, the man who was slashed covered his waist overflowing with blood, trying to stop the surging blood, but only held on for a few seconds before falling to the ground.

These bandits, who had no special training, were at best strong ordinary people to Ron.

The so-called attack is also very childish and ridiculous in his eyes.

After simply killing the two men, Ron quickly walked away.

He leaned slightly to the side, letting go of the figure that rushed over, and the cross sword in his hand stabbed hard.

'Whew!'

Blood and white brains splattered out, and the crosssword was quickly drawn from the eyehole, and the creature with the pierced head took two steps back before he was completely dead.

Shaking off the stain on the blade, Ron's figure moved again.

He may not be able to deal with those powerful soldiers alone, but it is too easy for these miscellaneous bandits.

Only now did Ron clearly feel the huge gap between himself and ordinary people.

Even if there were a few more people just now, he felt that he could eat it.

This is a task that is simply impossible for other ordinary knights.

Before he knew it, he had grown to this point.

Moving quickly underfoot, Ron's form wandered the battlefield of militia and bandits.

You can easily dodge enemy attacks every time, and every time you hit your sword, you can take the life of a bandit.

In a few moments, at least five or six robbers died by his sword.

On the ground, a young militiaman who was being held down by robbers suddenly felt the short spear in his hand light.

'Whew!'

A patch of red blood spread from the robber's chest, and the bandit's eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at the blade on his chest, and then his eyes darkened.

The young militiaman removed the robber's body from himself and looked at Ron's figure with a shocked gaze.

"It's too strong. ”

Without seeing the militiaman's eyes, Ron was quickly cleaning up the bandits.

As he kept fighting, he clearly felt that his swordsmanship was improving rapidly, and the smoothness of his sword and the combat skills that imitated many powerful servants were all displayed as instinctively.

It's fundamentally different from an ordinary fight.

The touch brought by the cross sword piercing the flesh is by no means something that can be brought by the wooden sword fight.

The lives of these robbers seemed to be as small as ants at this moment, and they could be crushed to death by him at will.

"I'm strong!"

With a 'snort', one of the robbers' arms was severed, and half of his neck was slashed off with the crosssword.

"I'm no longer weak!"

'Bell!'

He easily blocked the wooden stick behind him, and then stabbed it with his backhand, and wet blood splattered on the leather armor.

"There's no one to kill me, Nick!"

Ron drew his sword and grinned, his gaze quickly scanning to the knights' servants who were fighting the deserters, and quickly fixed on a thin man.

Nick was fighting a blonde-haired deserter.

The sound of 'dingding' kept coming from there.

The long swords in the hands of the two were almost a silver shadow left, and then they suddenly separated, and then pounced again.

In the hazy drizzle, the figures of the two were also faintly blurred.

The battle scene is fundamentally different from the rest of the world.

"This"

Seeing this, Ron was slightly stunned, and the confidence that had gradually swelled up quickly converged.

This kind of speed and skill can be done by himself, but if he fights with people, it is difficult to say.

"Is this the strength of a trainee knight?" his lips moved.

In Bill's profile, Nick's skills seem to be only at the lower level of the twenty, but that's it, it's not something he can compare.

"Looks like I'm still a lot behind. ”

Ron gathered back his emotions, his eyes sank, and he turned his gaze to the rest of the bandits again.

The militia itself is much more numerous than the bandits, and they are stronger than the robbers in terms of strength.

Originally, the robbers had the meaning of being suppressed, and after Ron killed more than a dozen robbers, the militia even had the feeling of killing all the robbers in one fell swoop.

The militia, who were free, quickly surrounded the deserters who were fighting with the knights.

Even though they may not be able to help in terms of strength, they can still do it with constant harassment.

If it weren't for the fact that the power of the arrows was too weak, and there wasn't much to do about these guys in armor, I'm afraid they would have picked up their bows and arrows to fight back.

The remaining robbers also seemed to feel the slightest resistance, and some of them even ran quietly towards the edge of the village as they fought.

Not many people care about wanting these guys.

All eyes are on these strange and powerful deserters.

Almost all of these guys have the lowest strength that is not inferior to the Cavaliers, and even two or three of them actually have no defeat against James and Nick.

Granger, on the other hand, was alone with the deserter with his left arm piercing.

Granger's two silver crossbows were extremely fast slashes each time, but they could easily be parried against the wounded deserter.

Shows strong physical fitness and combat experience.

'Bell!'

After parrying Granger's successive attacks once more, his face suddenly turned pale and he looked down.

The armor gauntlet on the left arm was actually covered with blood and spilled a large patch on the ground, apparently there was something wrong with the arrow.

"Damn Best, you forced me!"

The deserter, who knew that if he didn't take out the arrow as soon as possible, he would die of excessive blood loss, had a hideous face.

He shook the long sword in his hand and slammed it forward, faintly faster than before.

'Bang!!'

Granger's two cross-swords held his long sword against him, but the guy pressed hard, and the sheer force forced Granger back several steps.

"Give me death!!"

The deserter's face turned grim, and a black light peeked out of his wounded arm.

However, just as he stabbed Granger, suddenly, his eyes widened, and blood spurted from the side of his neck.

Behind him, Ron calmly withdrew his crosssword.