Chapter 22 22. Stereotypes
Gondar swatted the lance blocking his path, then raised his two-handed sword and slashed down with a roar. By then, the Scourgewalker chariot had already turned, and the two-handed sword struck the swept-back wings of bronze-clad steel. The beastmaster, having secured two victories, quickly dodged backward, sweat streaming down his forehead as he watched the vanished wings. If it weren't for the lance blocking his path, he might have been beheaded by now.
On the right side of the knight who had just been hit in the head by the harpoon, another knight began to raise his lance horizontally, and stabbed the tip of his lance at the heads of the two beast trainers. But at this time, the Scourge Walker chariot accelerated directly, and the lance passed by the two beast trainers' heads to the rear of the chariot. The chariot and the horse staggered apart. The knight cursed angrily, and the resentment was so strong that even the beast trainers who could not understand Bretonnian could feel it clearly.
The tamer on the left called out to the two tamers who had achieved victory.
"Stop standing there and shoot."
Then he aimed the harpoon crossbow at the back of the enraged knight, achieving his third victory of the night and overtaking the opponent! The knight kicked his legs, his anger subsided, and he became calm.
And then, nothing happened. The Scourge Walker's chariot accelerated and created distance, bypassing a team that was coming diagonally.
The fallen knight finally managed to dig his leg free from the dirt. It was a remarkable feat, as the people of this world possessed excellent physiques; even in such a situation, their legs remained intact. He struggled to his feet, but before he could gain his balance, the Scourgewalker chariot passed by. A hunting fork was hurled at him, and he was too slow to dodge. It pierced his armor and pierced his chest, dragging him down before he could even utter a cry of pain.
The Scourge Walker chariot plunged directly into the forest, dragging the knight into the woods as well. Drucci's hunting fork was specially treated, capable of piercing even the thick scales of wild beasts, let alone the knight's armor.
"Are you okay?"
"Can you do it?"
The beast tamer who had achieved three victories said this sarcastically.
"you!"
Without even turning his head, Kaleen said sinisterly, "I really want to kick you down. Why didn't that shot just now blow your head off?"
The two-victory trainer wilted. He didn't dare to provoke Kallion. As a fellow trainer, he knew Kallion's abilities all too well. The ability to steer a cart and sync with the beasts, stopping and turning on the spot, wasn't something everyone could master, just like there was no other Donkey Cart Warrior. He also knew that no one had ever been able to defeat Lacas in the previous year's Claw Tournament, not even the high-ranking trainer, Jaeger.
The Scourgewalker chariot moved through the forest, and under the control of Kaleen, it seemed as if it was walking on flat ground like the forest dwellers.
Two trainers pulled back on the steel chain to prevent the captive from getting stuck in the tree.
"Kalyon, this monkey is dying."
"Do either of you speak the language?" asked Kalyon.
"How could we do that? That's something the rich and powerful learn."
"Then chop it up and take back the hunting fork."
The knights outside the woods did not rush in rashly. The twelve knights who had been so high-spirited just now were now either wilted or filled with anger, and there were only eight left. The other four had already returned to the arms of the Lady of the Lake.
The knights' tactics were sound, but they could never have imagined that the steeds, renowned throughout the continent, the treasure coveted by the Empire beyond the mountains, the pride of Bretonnia, could not catch up with that strange chariot. The chariot consistently outpaced them, and this very advantage, without the assistance of ranged troops, resulted in the loss of four of the kingdom's knights. This was the largest loss for Lyonnes since the defense of Cologne. The leading knight was unsure how to explain this to His Excellency, Duke Herpane of Lyonnes.
It would be truly remarkable if Bretonnian warhorses could outrun chariots. When the elven colonists abandoned the Old World and returned to Ulthuan, some took refuge in the forests of Athel Loren and Laurent Loren, becoming Asrai. A large number of elven warhorses remained here, and these, combined with the local forest horses, gave rise to the Bretonnian warhorse of today.
Gondar looked at the leading knights and said carefully, "Sir, judging by their attire and equipment, they must be the Duruchi pirates. Only the elven warhorses are faster than ours. I've seen them before in Le Angron, but their appearance is clearly different."
"Sir, there is a beach in the south where we can bring that kind of chariot up after the tide rises in the evening. But it will be difficult after the tide goes out at dawn."
"Your Mightiness."
"Your Mightiness."
"Make a decision!"
The leading Knight of the Kingdom was restrained, his gaze fixed on the sky. After the deaths of four enfeoffed Knights, how would he explain his actions to their families and the Duke? Frankly, how would he survive in this place? Who would listen to him? How would his political enemies orchestrate their attacks? He thought back to his youth, charging single-handedly into a Beastman formation and unleashing a wave of devastating destruction.
He said firmly, "Go south and try to hold these damn pointy-eared creatures back for as long as possible. Our servants will appear at dawn, and then we'll give them a thundering blow!"
After saying that, he turned his horse around and left.
Gondor also followed the leading knights of the kingdom. He believed that everything that happened today was a task assigned to him by the Goddess of the Lake on his journey to seek the Holy Grail. He must complete this task to prove his bravery. In fact, the Goddess of the Lake had never paid any attention to him.
The other knights of the kingdom looked at each other, turned their horses around and followed.
Again, wolves? They don't exist!
Dacus was not a Black Blade, so the ship just stopped there, and the first mate and the crew were waiting anxiously, and the beach was full of small boats.
If the tide recedes at dawn, the hidden reefs under the sea will be exposed, and the three-masted square-sailed plundering ship will have to retreat to a farther place, making the task of transporting the spoils and mounts very troublesome.
The brothers Dacius and Tachia hung at the back of the procession, for there was no potion on the poultry and slaves.
In mid-air, Alyssa flew back on the dark Pegasus. After landing, she said, "Sir, no trace of the enemy was found in the east."
"Well, please work harder and bring back the Scourge Walker chariot."
Alyssa flew away again.
"Shall we make a bet?"
When the two brothers heard what Darkus said, their scalps went numb, because they knew how badly Captain Dastan Cold Eyes lost last time because of that female vampire.
One afternoon during a drink, Ryan couldn't help but ask Dacus how he knew she was a vampire. Dacus calmly replied, "It's a stereotype, because she dresses like a vampire."
Ryan wasn't stupid, he would ask the vampire, but he wouldn't ask what happened tonight.
The sound of the trombone came again in the distance, closer this time.
Darkus looked up at the sky. The green night was dissipating and dawn was about to break. He said nonchalantly, "If you don't want to gamble, forget it."