How a Second Life Knight Lives

19. Knights are stronger than mercenaries.

The nearly 30 cavalrymen who swarmed the campsite were not just a simple mounted patrol.

Most of the mounted patrols that the mercenaries, who regularly participated in the trade, knew by face seemed to have fallen off to catch the mounted mercenaries, and a considerable number of those who swarmed the campsite were knights.

If you insist on arguing, it was as if knights on horseback had swarmed in with their squires.

The mercenaries did their best.

A contract is nothing more than something written on paper.

There are very few mercenaries who would risk their lives to keep a contract in a life-threatening situation. It is normal to run away if you can, rather than fight because the situation is unavoidable.

However, the long-distance trade of the Powell caravan had been carried out regularly for a long time, so it felt more like family than a contract partner. In fact, some of the mercenaries here had spent most of their careers escorting the long-distance trade of the Powell caravan.

So they did their best.

They shot arrows, fired crossbows, stabbed with spears from atop the wagons, threw nets, pulled down with hook spears, and fought directly with swords or blunt weapons.

However, the ten or so knights were not something the mercenaries could handle.

Despite their desperate resistance, the mercenaries died one by one.

If the wagons had not served as a wall, it might have ended long ago.

The mercenaries were holding out, relying on the wagons.

“Ugh.”

The knight caught by Mihau with the twin swords could not keep up with his speed.

The knight’s arm, dazzled by the dazzling movement of the swords, was stabbed and withdrawn by the small sword.

Blood flowed down and fell to the ground.

If only a little more time was given,

If he could face that knight one-on-one,

Another knight would have been added to Mihau’s list of grudges.

However, the enemies did not seem to have such intentions.

A knight with a longsword intervened between the two, pushing Mihau back and giving his comrade a breather.

The meticulously built-up attack was now tangled. Mihau acknowledged the failure of the hunt and retreated.

However, this time the knights did not let Mihau go. Mihau now had to face two knights with his two swords.

His eyes narrowed.

“My will reaches you.”

A clear sound was heard from afar.

In an instant, flames erupted from the armor of the knight facing Mihau. Mihau did not miss the opportunity and stabbed with his sword.

The knight with the longsword was bewildered by the sudden situation as if lightning had struck right in front of him, but he stepped forward for his comrade who had been stabbed and fallen.

“My will reaches you.”

Then, the sound of chanting was heard again.

However, this time, no flames erupted. The knight wielding the longsword swung his sword and moved his position. With that, the spell was dispelled.

“My will reaches you. Again! My will reaches you. Again! My will reaches you. No, stay still!”

People who heard the irritated shout of the wizard Piyotr were slightly taken aback.

If you stay still, you’ll die!

Those who understand and use the mysteries are different from ordinary people.

In actions and thoughts.

Sometimes, it’s not strange to say they are not human.

Even those who merely touch the fragments of the mystery and draw power from it are like that.

So people reacted rather than tried to understand.

Everyone saw the ability of the wizard who handles the mystery of flames and the knight who blocks the attack.

And they quickly realized.

The target of the attack doesn’t like to move!

As a result, none of those in the wizard’s line of sight stood still to invite the wizard’s attack.

Those who didn’t want to die standing still had to move.

Piyotr is known as a wizard who handles fire. More precisely, he possesses the mystery of the declaration of fire. By clarifying the meaning of words related to fire, he can use fire at will.

Even now, the moment he says “My will reaches you,” fire bursts out from the enemy Piyotr is focusing on. A small flame rises on the body and then suddenly spreads like an explosion, burning the person.

Of course, this is not a formalized spell. It can be said that it is a communication method agreed upon by the mystery of fire and Piyotr. Naturally, if someone else recites the same words, it has no effect.

The number of people who handle the mysteries is very small. And among them, those who possess dangerous attack skills that threaten human life are even fewer.

So when someone like Piyotr displays the mystery of fire, ordinary people couldn’t even think of resisting. In fact, an ordinary person would have been engulfed in flames without even having time to react.

However, the knight who exists as a battlefield weapon was not an ordinary person.

They felt, avoided, and resisted the will of the flame before it could erode them. They could sense where the will of the flame was getting stronger and instinctively avoid it. Even if the will of the flame penetrated their body, they could firmly reject it.

The knight wielding the longsword was also trained as a knight, and the repeated movements of the sword, ingrained in his body, were almost like his will itself.

So he could block the will imposed by the wizard.

Feeling something hot entangling him, he kept moving and slashing around, attacking the invisible something, and could hear the distant wizard getting annoyed.

It meant he was doing it right.

However, facing something invisible was inevitably frightening.

In fact, when he was late to respond and a small flame rose on his armor, he felt a chill as if a sword was thrust in front of his eyes and resisted by swinging his sword.

He was being attacked unilaterally, but he was holding on. Just by keeping the wizard Piyotr’s attention on him, he had done his part sufficiently.

On the other hand, the escort mercenaries of the Powell caravan were feeling that the situation was getting worse.

Their comrades were dying one by one. It was madness for a mere mercenary to resist a knight. No matter how much the wagons acted as a wall, they were not real walls. And there were too many knights to deal with.

Moreover, the trusted dual-sword Mihau and the wizard Pjotr were tied up with the knights they were facing and couldn’t help the escort mercenaries.

Was there no way?

Of course, there were helping hands nearby.

If a conflict arose due to bandits or robbers, the small and medium merchants who followed the long-distance caravan to help the Powell caravan were there.

But they were holding back.

In a normal situation, they would have helped without hesitation.

But the current situation was far from normal.

After the bandits attacked, it was clear that those who followed, mixed with knights, were a cavalry patrol.

This was clearly a dispute between nobles.

It was no secret that the Powell caravan was closely associated with the Count of Kalmar, and that the neutral Count of Kalmar was not on good terms with the surrounding nobles who had allied with other electors in the imperial election.

The small and medium merchants and individuals who had followed the Powell caravan were slowly leaving. It was the wisdom of the weak to flee when the two sides were too busy fighting to pay attention to their surroundings.

Of course, there was a risk of retaliation from the Powell caravan later, but that was a matter for the future. And given the current situation, it was doubtful whether retaliation would even be possible.

So, there were hardly any who stayed and risked being struck by lightning.

The escort mercenaries couldn’t help but notice this.

Their morale was dropping rapidly in real-time.

The battle with the bandits had ended in victory, but it had inflicted considerable damage on the escort mercenaries. Although they had won, they were now fighting another battle without rest. But the enemy was too strong, and the allies were disappearing.

The mercenaries also had to start thinking about survival.

One couldn’t blame those escort mercenaries. They had done well just to hold out this long. If they had been ordinary mercenaries, it would have been understandable if they had all fled the moment the knights appeared.

It was at this moment, when everything seemed to be falling apart, that William intervened in the mercenaries’ battle.

*

I didn’t like fighting while chasing and being chased on horseback.

The iron club, which felt good to hit with, had the fatal flaw of being too short in range, and I wasn’t skilled enough to shoot a bow while riding.

So, I chased the enemies who could be finished with a single blow to the wagons.

“Jukov! The situation doesn’t look good.”

“Damn it. What are we going to do? It’s just the two of us.”

I looked at the lined-up wagons.

Quite a few people were dead or injured and lying down, but there were still many people holding weapons on or beside the wagons.

Among them were not only mercenaries but also many merchants.

Most of them were still holding their positions and weapons, but their faces were filled with fear. Some had completely lost their morale, their eyes dead.

If left alone, they would simply collapse. If given the right trigger, many would lose their sanity and scatter in all directions.

Even if the number of opponents was large, if they were opponents that could be attacked, they wouldn’t show such a broken mental state. But many of the opponents were knights. And some were mounted patrols.

So many knights as enemies!

Is it fortunate that their overall number is small?

If they were skilled mercenaries, it might be different, but in general, they were an impenetrable force.

As one knight on horseback charged close to the wagon, a merchant, pale with fear, thrust his spear.

The spear hit the knight.

Although he succeeded in stabbing the knight, the attack was meaningless. The armor of a properly equipped knight is not so flimsy that it can be pierced by a spear thrust by a mere merchant. The spear scraped the knight’s armor and passed by, and the knight’s sword, which had approached closely, slashed the merchant’s shoulder diagonally. The merchant fell from the wagon to the ground.

The fear deepened.

Now, it was not surprising that someone would scream and run away.

If they were fighting an equal number of opponents, they would be fighting mindlessly. Inhaling the air of the battlefield and tussling with enemies of similar skill would make their blood boil.

However, a small number of skilled individuals showing off their abilities like this is rather dangerous. This kind of behavior is intended to crush the opponent’s will to resist.

When that happens, those who cannot resist properly will collapse without even displaying their basic skills.

And the collapse will sweep away even those who can fight, making them flee.

That’s right. They probably held out until now because they had definitely won against the bandits.

The sense of victory must still be lingering.

But if they are being overwhelmed like this, it is impossible to hold out any longer. They must have already reached their limit.

They were now in a situation where they were just waiting for a chance to run away.

The atmosphere needed to change.

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I raised my iron club high and charged at the enemies with a shout.

In front of me were the survivors of the enemy cavalry, running away with half-dazed expressions.

As if understanding my intention, my horse started running madly. It ran so fiercely that it wouldn’t be surprising if it collapsed right now.

The fleeing cavalrymen were quickly caught up by me.

And in front of everyone, my iron club cut through the air.

The iron club struck the back of the cavalryman I had caught up with.

With a sound like hitting a pile of leather, the cavalryman fell from his horse without even a scream. The fallen cavalryman rolled on the ground a few times and then stopped moving. He didn’t move at all.

Instant death.

See! Did you see!

Look at me!

Look at me!

My iron club once again sliced through the air.

Our side, already defeated in spirit, needed to show a more splendid and impressive appearance to hold onto hope.

Those knights also needed to feel that they were nothing special.

So this time, I aimed for the head of the horse ridden by the cavalryman I had caught up with.

With a sound of something bursting, blood splattered.

The horse rolled forward several times. Many people realized for the first time that a fallen horse could roll like a person.

The cavalryman riding the horse was thrown off, his neck twisted at an odd angle as he was crushed by the rolling horse.

A cheer erupted from the people who had been holding out, leaning on the wagon.

And my splendid performance caught the interest not only of the mercenaries of the upper ranks but also of the knights who had been massacring.