A Grand Knight?

A Grand Knight? The other three knights had been caught in the blast too, though their injuries were light—just a bit of dizziness and blurred vision. Seeing their grand knight get taken down, the three didn't dare dawdle. They sprang to their feet and charged. They were only a hundred-odd meters from the grand knight. Before the youth could rush in and finish the job, two of them had already come at him, one ahead and one behind. "Die!" In that moment, Wu Youren truly had no reason to hold back. One heavy, powerful stroke cut a knight in two, blade and body together, along a diagonal line. A flick of the wrist, power from the waist, and the blade came sweeping back, taking the man's head with it. The other knight was aghast, but he couldn't stop his feet now, and had no other choice. He brought his weapon down toward Wu's head. The weapon in his hands wasn't long, something like a spiked club, with a small spiked ball at the top and a shaft cast from fine steel. Such a weapon was a little weaker at killing ghosts, but in close-quarters fighting against martial artists, it offered some advantage. Wu Youren knew at a glance that his long saber would never hold up in a direct clash against that spiked club. So he twisted aside in midair, and in that instant the blade gave a light quiver, the tip flicking gently upward, straight at the man's wrist. This barbarian knight was thickset, skilled in close combat, built along tank lines, yet his footwork wasn't clumsy at all. His opponent's sudden shift—the fighting style switching from broad, sweeping strokes to something light and nimble—caught him somewhat off guard. Still, he slid sideways and evaded the cut. Seeing that the other man wasn't slowing his steps, that he still meant to charge at the grand knight, he couldn't stand it any longer, and swept his club in flat. That blow came heavy and full of force, dragging a howl of wind behind it. In battle, his role was mostly to hold steady and solid, to absorb the opponent's charge. If he let the man through this time, he wouldn't just be failing at his duty—he'd be leaving his lord exposed to danger. He had never heard the sort of sayings about besieging Wei to rescue Zhao, but "strike at what the enemy must save"—every experienced warrior understood that. Yet as the club swept out, the figure shifted sideways again, and a backhand blade cut at his neck. A move that flouted the laws of physics entirely—eerie, underhanded, vicious. This one was a little surprised too, and hurriedly jerked his head aside. He could feel that he was somewhat too late, and at the same time thrust his right elbow up to block. It wasn't that he'd given up on the arm; he was wearing a bracer. His opponent could cut through a companion's long saber, true, but that was with everything he had behind it. Now that the blade was moving light and nimble, the force would naturally be much less. Unfortunately, he had still underestimated the youth's strength. The lightness of the blade was only an illusion. The killing power of Wu Youren's long saber lay in the internal energy held within the steel. Seeing that the man had actually chosen to block, he changed tactics and, following the flow, increased the output of internal energy. In the flash of an instant, only a limited amount could be added—but it was enough. The long saber sheared through the bracer, severed the right arm, and with its momentum undiminished, carried off a fifth of the man's skull along the way. The tank knight was horrified, and shouted at the top of his voice, "Careful—he's a grand knight!" When he judged an opponent's strength, apart from their aura, he looked at their weapon. The man was masked, but the clarity in his eyes alone told him the fellow was very young, and what he carried was a standard knight-grade long saber. Who the hell could have imagined that someone of that age, carrying a weapon like that, could possess the strength of a grand knight? A trap. It really was a trap! He was quite clear in his own mind, too, that the man might not truly be a grand knight—but beyond any doubt, he had strength that rivaled a grand knight's. So his warning hadn't been wrong. His opponent's strength went far beyond that of a mere knight! Badly wounded, caught in a rush, he could get no more information out. Wu Youren turned his wrist, and the blade swept back, cutting through the man's neck—while he himself twisted and darted forward like a leopard cat. Ahead of him, a knight was checking the grand knight's wounds. At the sight, his soul nearly flew out of his body. The key thing was that his companion, right before dying, had shouted out—the enemy is a grand knight! He had more or less finished assessing his lord's injuries. Even if the man somehow managed to escape, he would be half a cripple for the rest of his days. And yet he had been at his lord's side for a long time, and the man's accumulated authority weighed heavily on him. Even in that hurried moment, he hesitated over whether to run. In the instant he hesitated, a great force came surging from behind and shoved him stumbling straight toward the enemy. "My lord, you—!" The grand knight, up to this point, had still not fully come to his senses. That didn't stop him from sensing danger, though, and he had heard his subordinate's shout before he died. He shoved the man beside him toward the enemy, then scrambled to get away on hands and feet as fast as he could. The knight shoved forward didn't give up struggling. Even as he stumbled, he managed to draw his greatsword. But the grand knight had put his full strength into that shove. He knew he was badly hurt—how could he hold back when shoving out a shield? He wasn't even certain how much of his usual strength that all-out push had amounted to. It truly didn't amount to much. On any normal day, a shove like that would absolutely have made this knight cough blood. This time, he didn't cough blood. He only felt a tightness in his chest, and his grip on the greatsword stayed firm. But the stroke he managed to force out came out warped in both force and angle! The knight summoned all his remaining courage and tried desperately to adjust his posture—but it was too late! He watched helplessly as the blade cut through his own waist, then came a flash of bright saber-light, and he lost all sensation. The last thought in his head was boundless regret: how much better it would have been to just keep marching—why scavenge for supplies? Wu Youren cut down the third knight, then saw the grand knight scrambling along on hands and feet, fast enough to take flight, and couldn't help shaking his head. The man's single leg could put out no real force at all, yet he still kept trying to kick off the ground. His two hands were something else. They struck the ground in turn, flinging him forward, and the speed was rather astonishing. In one of those hands, he was even clutching a waist saber! The fellow who practiced the Toad Skill in those novels probably looked about like this, didn't he? The grand knight's vitality really was no joke! Wu Youren flickered forward, closed in on the man, and delivered two strokes, swish, swish, light as anything. He didn't cut off the man's hands, but... he severed the tendons in his wrists. Then he straightened and charged at the other barbarians. The barbarians had watched the whole fight, and had long since begun scattering in flight. There were only a dozen-odd of them, yet somehow they managed to produce the impression of fleeing across every hill and field. Wu Youren fixed first on the last knight, chased two steps, then shook his head slightly and took out a small cube, pressing it lightly. An explosion sounded, and the man went flying straight into the air. There had been so many directions he could have run, but this knight just had to charge right into a small trap. When he landed, he rolled twice, and because the charge's yield was on the small side, he hadn't quite died—he was only lightly hurt. That was as far as it went, though. The next instant the saber-light flashed, and his head fell. The remaining barbarian apprentice knights gave Wu Youren trouble. "These bastards can really run!" Twelve apprentice knights. One had perished in the first explosion; the other eleven had picked eleven directions. Escaping together? Not a chance! These fellows' brains might not be up to much, but every one of them knew perfectly well that banding together was the surest way to die. In this snow-covered Wasteland, surviving alone was very difficult—but that only meant "might not make it." Compared with "band together and die right now," even an idiot knew to choose the former. Wu Youren's form flashed and flickered, and he ran down seven of them in succession. The remaining four... were already far away! He thought it over, and in the end sighed and shook his head, choosing to give up. There was still a grand knight over there fighting for his life. If he chased too far out, who the hell knew what variables might come up. He came back to the grand knight's side and, without a word, threw a net over him first. Hunting down those seven apprentice knights had taken him a good half hour or more, and he had no idea whether this struggling bastard had managed to do anything to himself in the meantime. Only when he saw the great net firmly settled over the man did he begin going over the battlefield. There were some sabers and swords lying about, but the key thing was that he'd picked up four more daggers of passable material, all of them strapped to their owners' shins. After getting used to the daggers, he moved to a spot a dozen meters from the grand knight and pulled a pouch from his coat. He opened the pouch and gave it a shake, and a bound field mouse rolled out. The horned owl appeared, landing soundlessly not far away. "What are you doing?" "Guarding against the blood curse," the youth answered quietly. "Blood curse? Wait a moment." The horned owl beat its wings and left, and not long after returned carrying a leather pouch. Wu Youren recognized the pouch at a glance, somewhat puzzled. "Flawless crystal—what are you—?" "I've studied the blood curse." Chen Quanxu's drive to research really was extraordinary. "I have a rough guess." He believed the blood curse was also a kind of intent bound up with resentment, and that the two might cancel each other out to some degree. It was just that not every barbarian was qualified to carry a blood curse, so he'd had no samples to experiment with. This time, he wanted to try whether a flawless crystal could absorb a blood curse. If it truly could, then in the future he could use a crystal to absorb his own resentment, and the two would cancel out—wouldn't that be wonderful? Your line of thinking... Wu Youren was rather speechless. Still, he had already given the crystal to the other man, so he was in no position to object. He only offered a careful caution. "If they can't cancel out, the flawless crystal will be contaminated." That was a flawless crystal. Had he thought this through? "I have no choice!" the horned owl answered calmly. "There's more resentment inside me than you can imagine." "If there's a way not to die, who wants to die? However precious a treasure is, isn't it meant to be used?" "That's crazy enough," Wu Youren muttered. "I don't even know whether I should hope this works." "You can put the mouse behind the crystal," the horned owl answered very coolly. "I can also help block it for you." "Can't be blocked. The blood curse is incredibly fast," the youth said with a slight shake of his head. "Damn," the horned owl said, surprised. "You've actually run into one?" He had only heard of the barbarians' blood curse. This fellow had actually encountered one... Your experience really is something else. He couldn't help asking, "If I'm not mistaken, this grand knight should be the first one you've killed?"