Knight: Becoming King of the World

Chapter 140: Chapter 119: Is the Enemy That Strong?

Henry’s army was like a pack of hungry wolves, their eyes fixed only on their prey.

Their expert group tactics and flawless teamwork split the enemy formation into sections, which they then destroyed one by one.

The enemy soldiers had originally thought their numerical superiority would allow them to easily overwhelm Henry’s army, but now they realized they were wrong.

The Grassland Riders and Grassland Warriors were like ghosts, weaving through the enemy ranks. Every appearance was accompanied by the enemy’s screams and chaos.

Their Riding Spears and lances left countless marks on the enemy shields, and each charge shattered the enemy’s formation even further.

The spears and swords in the hands of the infantry became the enemy’s nightmare. They pushed forward relentlessly, using their shields to block attacks and their spears to pierce the enemy’s line of defense.

The enemy soldiers felt a deep sense of panic. They watched their comrades fall one by one, while Henry’s army seemed to only grow stronger with every clash.

Cavalry and infantry worked in concert, continuously splitting the enemy’s formation. They dominated the more numerous foe, breaking their soldiers down into isolated squads to be eliminated one by one.

The enemy officers tried to reorganize their troops, but they found it difficult for their orders to get through.

Henry’s army continuously split the enemy formation on the battlefield, their assault coming in relentless waves.

Bain and the other five Knight’s Squires led squadrons of Cavalry across the battlefield, the glint of their swords flashing amidst the enemy ranks.

Every swing of the sword, every charge, was filled with power and grace—at least, that’s how it looked to Henry’s soldiers.

Mounted on his fine steed, Bain was like a southern elephant on the battlefield, weaving through the enemy ranks and making it impossible for them to defend against him.

He was like a ferocious beast, incomparably brave. Good Warriors are forged through countless battles!

After lopping off a head with his axe, Roland shouted from his horse, "Their nobles are mounted! The riders are Barons!"

Bain vaguely heard something, but couldn’t make it out over the din of battle. He did, however, notice the sudden appearance of four enemy Cavalrymen.

They wore ornate, heavy armor, and their warhorses were like lions on the battlefield.

Judging by their armor, barding, and the height and build of their mounts, these four had to be enemy nobles.

One of the nobles wielded a spear like a venomous snake’s tongue. His warhorse moved like a cheetah on the battlefield—agile and swift, making him difficult for the Skilled Infantry to pin down.

Another noble, most likely a Knight, possessed superb Riding Skill. Under his command, his warhorse moved like an extension of his own body. Their coordination seemed flawless.

CLANG!

Bain lowered the shield in his left hand and looked toward another noble, a horse archer whose skill was astonishing. His arrows flew like shooting stars.

The last noble was directing his mounted Attendants in an attempt to hold back Henry’s Cavalry forces.

’Could they succeed? Not a chance!’

Bain was the first to charge, heading for the spear-wielding noble. He knew the man’s agility and speed were his deadliest weapons.

Bain spurred his warhorse straight toward the enemy. At the moment of approach, he sharply raised the iron Grassland Riding Spear Henry had given him and thrust it at the noble’s helmet.

’This isn’t a disposable Riding Spear. I can’t just be reckless with it. It’s not worth losing my weapon or injuring my arm.’

The noble reacted quickly, flicking his spear to block Bain’s attack. But Bain’s spear work was more refined. With a twist of his wrist, he bypassed the spear and thrust his Riding Spear straight at the noble’s chest.

CLANG!

The noble barely dodged, but the tip of Bain’s spear still left a deep gouge in his armor.

Just as his Riding Spear was about to connect, Bain loosened his grip slightly, then snatched it back a second later. Grabbing the upper shaft with his rear hand, he spurred his horse to create distance.

Meanwhile, Selas calmly faced the noble Knight with superb Riding Skill. After all, he himself was a qualified noble Knight.

He had just lost his lands, that was all.

After turning once more to create distance, Selas stealthily approached the noble Knight’s warhorse.

The noble Knight sensed the danger, but it was too late. Selas’s spear plunged precisely into the warhorse’s hindquarters.

The warhorse let out a pained shriek as the noble lost his balance and tumbled from the saddle.

Selas rode over, retrieved his spear, and grabbed the Knight by the shoulders. A single headbutt, helmet to helmet, was enough to knock the Knight unconscious.

Things had been fine as long as the four nobles stayed hidden. The moment they revealed themselves, they drew the focused attention of Bain and his men.

The situation on the battlefield had become clear. The enemy soldiers began to realize they could no longer hold back Henry’s army.

Their hearts filled with fear and despair, and some soldiers began to look for a chance to escape.

In droves, they charged through the Supervision Team behind them, wildly swinging their weapons at the soldiers who stood in their way.

’Comrades? Never met them!’

The soldiers who broke through the Supervision Team ran into the camp, searching everywhere for mounts. Even a packhorse would do, so long as it could carry them away from this hellish battlefield.

But vast numbers of Grassland Warriors on their warhorses swarmed the battlefield, driving back any enemy who tried to flee.

’Run? Not a chance! These are all valuable laborers!’

Henry himself had said that if any of them were injured and had to retire from service, they would be allowed to pick serfs from among the prisoners!

For any enemies who tried to resist, the Grassland Warriors unhesitatingly drew their bows, and a volley of arrows would instantly find their mark.

Some of the nobles’ Cavalrymen, mounted on their own warhorses, chose not to fight and simply fled.

They knew a miserable fate awaited them if captured. As members of a Private Army’s Cavalry, accustomed to living well, they could not accept such a drastic fall from grace.

They spurred their warhorses desperately, trying to escape the battlefield, to escape this catastrophe. Even the Grassland Warriors and Grassland Riders couldn’t catch this group.

As for those fleeing Cavalrymen, their fate was unknown.

They might wander the grasslands and become homeless vagrants; they might be taken in by other tribes to serve as Mercenaries; or they might simply die, unable to adapt to life on the plains.

In any case, their lives and circumstances were no longer of any concern to Henry’s army.

If they truly became Bandits, perhaps they would have the chance to meet Henry’s army again someday—when it was out exterminating their kind.

"I surrender! Don’t kill me!"

"I surrender! I surrender! Stop fighting!"

The battle finally ended in victory for Henry’s army. The enemy soldiers surrendered one after another, dropping their weapons and kneeling on the ground to beg for mercy.

As the dust settled on the battlefield, three Barons sat on their horses. Their armor was scarred from battle, and their faces were etched with indignation and fury.

Their soldiers, the Warriors who had once sworn them allegiance, were now kneeling on the ground in droves, having laid down their arms and surrendered to Henry’s army.

One Baron’s eyes were filled with confusion and disbelief. He couldn’t understand how their advantage had turned to disadvantage so quickly, or why their army had collapsed so easily.

’Were the enemy... really that strong?’

"We lost, just like that?" a Baron muttered, his voice trembling slightly.

Another Baron’s face was a mask of anger and defiance. He clenched his fists, his nails digging so deeply into his palms that they drew blood, yet he seemed to feel no pain.

"How could we possibly lose to them? Pick up your weapons!" he roared, but there was no response.

A flicker of fear crossed the last Baron’s eyes. Their defeat meant they could lose everything, including their freedom and dignity.

Baron Gabriel roared, "We must see Baron Henry!"

Gabriel was the most senior among them and commanded the largest military force. He tried to remain calm, but his voice still betrayed his inner turmoil.

Bain and the other Knight’s Squires rode up slowly, preparing to escort the prisoners back to the castle.

"You lost. You’re our prisoners now. You are in no position to make demands of me," Bain said calmly, his voice devoid of mockery, stating only a fact.

Gabriel’s face darkened. He glared at Bain, his eyes flashing with anger.

"We are nobles!" Gabriel said coldly.

"We will not be insulted by a mere Attendant. We demand to see Baron Henry. We will speak with him."

Bain gave a resigned smile. The pride and self-importance of these Barons meant nothing to him; the outcome of the war wouldn’t change just because they were unhappy about it.

"Lord Henry will see you. But until then, you will follow our rules."

Anger flashed in Gabriel’s eyes. He wanted to retort, but ultimately chose to remain silent. He knew this was not the time to argue.

Gabriel took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Tell your lord that we must see him today!"

Bain simply nodded, saying nothing more.

Henry’s army sprang into action. Soldiers split into groups, some tying up the prisoners to ensure they could not resist again.

Others collected the spoils of war from the battlefield—weapons, armor, and horses. Still others tallied the casualties, carrying their wounded comrades to the rear for treatment by the Medical Master.

Bain and the Knight’s Squires, meanwhile, were tasked with escorting the four captured nobles to the castle.

They crossed the silent battlefield, proceeding along the road leading to the castle.

The four nobles were stripped of their weapons and horses, their hands bound behind their backs. Despite their high status, they were now forced to walk.

Bain and his men led the nobles through the castle gate and into the fortress. Gabriel and the others were filled with bitter resentment. ’The castle gate was wide open,’ they thought. ’What a shame...’

The group entered a tower and were escorted into the council hall.

"Ah, my dear Barons. How cold of you. Your friend has been waiting for you in the dungeon all night."

Gabriel and the others had just caught sight of Henry on the main seat and were about to speak when his words made their faces turn ashen.

"You killed Huno?!"

Henry shook his head. "Baron, you insult me. I am not so barbaric. Knight Huno was very brave on the battlefield, even after losing a leg. He is now... waiting in the dungeon for you to join him."

"You can’t do this! We demand treatment befitting our station!"