Everyone was stunned, their gazes fixed in unison on the ragged middle-aged man jumping and shouting on the left slope of the valley clearing.
"That… isn't that Master Sciroba?" murmured Adams, the leader of the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps…
Well, the man bouncing about on the slope was indeed the one hailed as a genius architectural master, Master Sciroba. But wasn't he imprisoned? How did he end up here on the slope, and just as the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps and the transport convoy were about to fall into the trap? This shout from Master Sciroba was practically making things harder for
Master Sciroba continued shouting at the top of his lungs: "They're enemies! They're from the
Oviges, clad in chainmail armor, appeared behind him. With a backhand grip, he struck the pommel of his sword against the back of Master Sciroba's head. The crazed Master Sciroba collapsed, and finally, there was silence…
"Heh, heh," Lorist chuckled dryly. "That… that Master Sciroba has… has fallen ill again. If he doesn't shout like that once a day, he doesn't feel comfortable…"
Adams's gaze pierced into Lorist like a hawk's. "Is that so? I don't think he's ill. Can you explain who that man in iron armor is? I don't believe a mercenary could afford iron armor… Seize him."
That last command, "seize him," was directed at his two attendants.
Explain my ass. Lorist took two steps back and drew his sword. Since the jig was up, he might as well trigger the ambush. Most of the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps's personnel were already in the tent area; there was no escape even if they grew wings. As for the twenty or thirty Flying Feather mercenaries still outside the city rearguarding the vehicles that hadn't entered, Lorist was confident that with
Currently, the left side of the valley clearing was the tent area. The dismounted personnel of the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps had mostly gone inside to eat and drink. Some mercenaries had even removed their armor and entered the tents to lie down and rest properly. Inside the valley, besides Adams and his two attendants standing next to Lorist, only seven or eight Flying Feather mercenaries who had just entered the valley atop their horses with the wagons remained. With the element of surprise on his side, Lorist wasn't worried about any mishaps. They were all fish on his plate.
As for Adams and his two attendants right in front of him—heh, Lorist was confident they wouldn't last ten rounds against him. That was even granting that both of Adams's attendants were shield-guards wielding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, which made things slightly more troublesome.
On the right side of the valley clearing were the cargo wagons that had just arrived. The drivers arranged them into neat formations based on the type of goods they carried, then unhitched the draft horses, leading them to the troughs at the rear to feed and water them. Lorist knew these drivers were also slaves of the Kemis family, but they were professionally trained drivers specifically responsible for the Kemis family trading company's freight.
Besides the drivers, each cargo wagon also carried two or three slave laborers. The Kemis family made such arrangements so that these thousand slave laborers could arrive at the construction site with the supply convoy, and also to handle any accidents that might befall the wagons en route. After all, a freight wagon had only one driver; if something happened on the road, a single driver was helpless against a fully loaded wagon. With a few slave laborers accompanying the wagon, they could help unload or transfer the goods.
Now the drivers had led the horses to the rear. The accompanying slave laborers were gathering in small squads under the direction of a few overseers, sitting quietly in place to wait. They would only receive food and drink once everyone had assembled. Some slave laborers who had received permission from the overseers were running to the troughs at the rear with water skins. There was a well dug there, and they needed to fill their skins to bring back and share with their squad.
Lorist wasn't particularly concerned about these drivers and slave laborers. Although numerous, they were unarmed, and Lorist didn't believe they would fight to the death for the Kemis family that enslaved them. Like the previous batch of slave laborers, they would feel nothing about the Kemis family being replaced by the Norton family. Changing masters meant little to them; they would work and rest as usual.
Lorist drew his sword, raised his left hand into the air, and clenched his fist tightly—the signal to launch the ambush.
On the city walls, several guards who had been watching Lorist raised their long ox horns. A series of "woo-woo" horn calls echoed through the valley clearing.
Over two hundred guards wearing double-layered iron armor and a score of garrison soldiers in chainmail appeared in the valley clearing, encircling the tent area. On the left slope, more than a dozen siege crossbows were deployed. Together with the twelve siege crossbows on the city walls, they formed intersecting lines of fire aimed at the tent area.
Just as Lorist had anticipated, the drivers and slave laborers on the right clearing only stirred briefly before calming down. Those feeding the horses continued to do so, merely turning their heads frequently to look over here. The assembled slave laborers sitting on the ground watched with wide, excited eyes, as if witnessing a real-life play, occasionally whispering among themselves, seemingly eager to see the battle about to unfold.
"Surrender. Don't make pointless resistance. Lay down your weapons, and we will treat you well," Lorist said, watching the two shield-guards steadily closing in.
Adams asked a question.
Lorist shifted his steps to avoid being caught in a cross-attack by the two shield-guards. "I am Baron Norton, head of the Norton family. If you surrender, I guarantee your personal safety and the security of your private property in the name of the lord…"
"Haha… Baron Norton, rather than saying we've fallen into your trap, haven't you also fallen into our hands? I really don't understand how you dared to appear before us alone. Are you brave or just stupid? Go! Seize him, and we can turn this around…" Adams was overjoyed.
Seize me? Dream on. You refused a toast only to drink a forfeit. Lorist dodged the charge of the left shield-guard, his form flickering like a phantom as he materialized to the right of the guard. His long sword thrust like a viper toward the man's right ribs…
Got him, Lorist thought. Deal with this shield-guard, and the other two would be fish on the chopping block, at his mercy.
Clang! A long sword suddenly appeared, blocking Lorist's blade at the right ribs of the left shield-guard. It was the right shield-guard, who had somehow appeared in front of Lorist. Immediately after, golden sword auras ignited on both shield-guards' blades.
Damn! These are two Gold-rank shield-guards! Lorist was momentarily stunned. He hadn't heard that the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps had Gold-rank battle-aura experts. And two shield-guards at that—he'd have his hands full.
But Lorist wasn't overly concerned. So what if they were Gold-rank? He had already killed several Gold-rank battle-aura experts. Even if they were shield-guards, their defense was just a bit stronger; at worst, it would take him longer. He could still handle them.
However, it was only after engaging them that Lorist realized he was in trouble. These two shield-guards displayed incredibly seamless teamwork—one attacked while the other defended. Although the attacks posed no threat to Lorist, their defense was watertight. No matter how Lorist attacked, his strikes were always parried. For a time, Lorist became entangled with the two Gold-rank shield-guards, unable to gain a decisive advantage.
When the horn sounded from the city walls, chaos erupted at the city gate.
The twenty or thirty Flying Feather mercenaries still outside sensed trouble and spurred their horses to charge in, only to find their path blocked by freight wagons in the gate passage. The drivers, realizing something was wrong, abandoned their wagons and sought safety. Without the drivers, the draft horses pulling the wagons clustered together at the gate, and one freight wagon even turned sideways, completely blocking the passage. In this congestion, those twenty or thirty mercenaries couldn't possibly storm inside.
Jossk knew Lorist's capabilities and was very confident in his skills. Even though Master Sciroba had exposed the trap, in Jossk's view, with Lorist inside, there would be no problem. So Jossk paid no attention to the commotion inside the walls. Since the horn had sounded and the ambush was launched, the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps had no choice but to surrender meekly. He hadn't noticed that Lorist had been pinned down by two Gold-rank shield-guards who had appeared out of nowhere.
Lorist had previously discussed this scenario with Jossk and planned for it. In such a situation, Jossk's task was to control the wagons and mercenaries outside the city who hadn't entered, ensuring not a single one escaped. So Jossk leaped onto the ramparts and ordered the twenty or thirty Flying Feather mercenaries outside to surrender, dismount, discard their weapons, and sit on the ground to await orders.
No one listened. Several mercenaries with bows even raised them to shoot at Jossk. In response, Jossk shot one down from his horse with an arrow. Seven mercenaries were killed in quick succession, and the remaining twenty-odd finally realized Jossk's prowess and obediently dismounted to surrender.
Lorist fought fiercely with the two Gold-rank shield-guards, neither able to overpower the other for the moment. Watching from the side, Adams was secretly astonished by Lorist's strength and superb swordsmanship. Seeing his plan to capture Lorist thwarted and unable to intervene in the three-way battle, he rallied the seven or eight mercenaries who were still mounted and bewildered by the sudden turn of events. He then led them in a charge toward the guards encircling the tent area.
The guards wearing double-layered iron armor had all awakened their combat force, but the garrison soldiers in chainmail had not. They hadn't expected Adams to lead a force in an attack from behind. The siege crossbows on the walls and slopes were aimed at the tent area. No one had anticipated these fewer than ten Flying Feather mercenaries charging into the rear of the tent area under Adams's lead. The garrison soldiers' formation was torn apart like melons under a knife, the encirclement instantly broken.
Moreover, as a Silver Three-Star, Adams's long sword radiated a white aura, making him virtually unstoppable.
"Cut our way out!" Adams roared.
The one hundred and sixty or seventy Flying Feather mercenaries inside the tent area responded with a thunderous shout, raising their weapons and charging at the guards and garrison soldiers surrounding them…
"Fire!" Oviges bellowed from the slope. More than a dozen massive crossbow bolts were loosed, pinning seven or eight Flying Feather mercenaries to the ground. Besides those killed instantly, the survivors screamed in agony. Immediately after, the siege crossbows on the city walls fired as well, taking another five or six lives.
However, the reloaded siege crossbows soon became useless. Below, everyone was locked in melee combat, making aimed shots impossible.
"Damn it all!" Oviges cursed loudly as he charged down the slope to join the fray…
The soldiers asked, "What's going on,
Jim turned his head and replied, "Go help, you idiots! If the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps gets the upper hand, will we have any way out?"
With the addition of twenty mercenaries, they finally halted the advance of the guards and garrison soldiers, barely stemming the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps' charge.
Adams, who had been forcing Pat into a desperate defense on all sides, flew into a rage upon seeing Jim and the other mercenaries join the fight, cursing viciously. Jim and the others didn't respond; they just attacked the Flying Feather mercenaries with all their might…
Lorist grew increasingly impatient. These two Gold-rank shield-guards were like dog-mudding plasters—once stuck, they wouldn't come off. At first, they had been slightly contemptuous of Lorist, but after engaging him and realizing his strength, they changed tactics. They stopped focusing on attack and instead stuck to him, preventing him from disengaging, leaving Lorist to watch the chaotic battle nearby with silent anxiety.
Lorist had even drawn his short sword now. His surprise attack only managed to add a small cut to one shield-guard's body—not even a light wound. Lorist was getting anxious; he couldn't keep fighting like this. He had to go all out.
One shield-guard curled into a ball behind his shield and charged straight at him. The other swung his sword in a horizontal slash. The past few times, Lorist had dodged the charge and blocked the slash before resuming the stalemate. This time, instead of dodging, Lorist channeled his internal energy and slammed back against the shield surface, sending the shield-guard flying five or six meters. With his left hand, he parried the incoming sword with his short sword, spun around, and pounced on the remaining shield-guard before him.
Seeing Lorist hurtling toward him with menacing force, the shield-guard hastily positioned his large shield in front of him. In his view, as long as Lorist couldn't break through his defense, he could hold out until the other shield-guard arrived, restoring the stalemate.
Lorist's long sword thrust straight at the shield. With all his internal energy behind it, the blade pierced through the shield with a "pfft" and embedded itself in the shield-guard's chest.
"Brother!…" The shield-guard who had been knocked away let out a piercing shriek. Abandoning his shield, he charged at Lorist with both hands gripping his sword, his eyes blazing like a mad tiger.
Lorist spun like a top, not even having time to pull his sword from the shield. He executed a sharp half-turn, the other shield-guard's blade whistling past his body. Lorist wouldn't let such an opportunity slip. As he spun past the charging shield-guard, his left-hand short sword sliced across the man's throat…
The two Gold-rank shield-guards collapsed to the ground. Blood spread across the earth, seeping into the soil, leaving only a large red stain.
Lorist also felt a surge of weakness, his body swaying slightly. But he couldn't relax yet—there was still a massive melee ahead. With effort, he wrenched his long sword free from the shield and then walked toward the tent area, blade in hand…