Chapter 143
Gordon Menewa brimmed with excitement.
Leading an elite judiciary squad of ten, including five knights, two at the sixth level, and himself, a ninth-level knight
On the opposing side, though numbering 20, only three reached knightly stature, with the mightiest barbarian at the seventh level.
More crucially, within the pagan group were two spellcasters!
Merits!
Merits served to him on a silver platter!
The judiciary highly prized pagan spellcasters. If he captured both alive, whether coercing conversion or binding them to the pyre, the merits could secure his promotion, aided by the judiciary, to the coveted tenth level!
The leap from ninth to tenth was monumental. Crossing it would elevate him to a grand knight, significantly boosting his combat prowess and church standing.
The more Gordon ruminated, the more his heart kindled. Urging the team to quicken, the substantial merits neared his grasp, yet the pagans ahead suddenly veered, vanishing behind the mountain bend.
"Mellen! Fechi! Pick up the pace!"
Gordon urged the front runners. The situation ahead blurred, and if not closely pursued, those pagansespecially the spellcastersmight slip away, shattering his merits and promotion dreams!
Yet, Mellen in the lead abruptly pulled his horse's reins, halting it. Fechi, caught off guard, swiftly halted his mount, narrowly avoiding a collision.
The horses neighed incessantly, circling in place. Were it not for the cliff on one side and a gentle slope on the other, the two knights and their steeds might have tumbled.
"Why the halt!" Gordon fumed. Yet, Mellen, undeterred by his anger, not only refrained from advancing but dismounted, proceeding on foot.
"Captain, up ahead... it's blocked!"
"Then clear it! All of you, move up!"
Gordon answered without hesitation. Mellen, Fechi, and the two knight squires in the front advanced to clear the road. Mellen casually hung his greatsword on the saddle, muttering, "Block the road by killing these horses? Ridiculous, as if they can't be moved..."
Horse corpses?
Horse corpses!
Gordon shuddered, every hair on his body standing on end. Instinct trumped reason, and the knight captain bellowed:
"Back! Retreat!"
Boom!
A deafening explosion.
Horse corpses, dragged out by the knights, simultaneously erupted.
Dry branches and leaves rustled down, loose rocks on the cliff fell with a rattle, shaking the ground.
Even Gordon, about ten meters away, couldn't escape. The shockwave pushed him back, causing a momentary lean.
Limbs, flesh, and strange fluids burst open, flying in all directions. Gordon raised his round shield to shield his face, blocking the blood rain. Mellen and Fechi in the front were less fortunate, the two knights squires screamed:
"Ah"
"Eyes, my eyes"
"My face"
Corpse explosion?
How could it be a corpse explosion?!
Gordon's head buzzed.
There were only two spellcasters on the other side, one with an oak staff, a nature god devotee; the other, by attire and spell traces, likely an elemental magenot a necromancer!
Could there be a third spellcaster?
Could he have misjudged, and a necromancer lurked among them?
"Attention, everyone! Another necromancer!"
He warned loudly. Checking, Mellen and Fechi weren't severely injured, just splashed with corpse fluid, quite tricky. Gordon excelled in combat, his healing spells lacking. The two knight squires...
Sadly, no rescue was needed.
Linde Ferrell's mage ring given to Garrett for corpse explosion proved top-notch, no discounts.
Gordon helplessly faced his subordinates' injuries. Giving them a brief cleaning and helping them onto their horses, he instructed Vilbo, his scolded squire:
"You take them back, take good care!"
Only four killed? Garrett glanced back at the barbarians with regret. Corpse explosion couldn't alter the outcome. Soon, the judiciary knights, fierce, caught up.
Garrett's team fell, soldiers without horses running. Finally, Blake, youngest and lowest-level, tumbled, holding an ankle.
"Captain!" The boy's voice hinted at tears. He struggled, trying to shake off Captain Barnes's hand:
"Don't worry about me! Run, run quickly!"
Twisted ankle?
Ruptured Achilles?
Fracture?
Garrett wanted to heal but was carried by Bernard, running forward, unreachable.
Urgent, pursuers with bows. Barbarians no longer carried him on their backs but in front, broad backs shielding him. Garrett couldn't break free, so he threw a potion:
"Healing potion! Use it!"
The fallen disappeared. Soon, Captain Barnes caught up, eyes red, running with head down.
Later, a distant scream came from the mountain road.
"...We can't go on like this." Captain Barnes resolved. He stopped, took off his bow, lovingly stroked it:
"We stop! Let's fight them!"
"Fight!" Shield warrior York responded first. Falling from his horse, he'd wanted this, but the captain stopped him. Hearing Captain Barnes, he turned, erecting his steel shield:
"I'll be at the front! Barnes, you go behind mego up!"
Warriors silently formed a formation. Killing five horses, they piled them at the mountain bend, forming cover. York in front, two low-level shield warriors behind horse corpses, shields raised. Captain Barnes and another archer climbed higher. Remaining warriors with spears and knives formed a small killing formation behind the shields.
Daniel the mage abstained. He stood aside, looking at comrades in life and death, face flushed:
"My magic's almost used up... give me a knife..."
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