Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 378 Freak
Watching this clash of strength and weight end in an instant, the prisoners lying on the sand dunes practically forgot to breathe.

"Oh my God……"

Quick Rope let out a trembling breath, watching the heavy cavalry charge forward, wanting to join the pursuit: "These are heavy cavalry? That's ridiculous! Those are orcs! Giant orcs eight or nine feet tall!"

"You just said an eight-hundred-pound mount?"

Louisa pulled her head back and said quietly to Old Hammer, "I guess for heavy cavalry, the weight of the armor also needs to be added."

“That’s why we need to find a place to cover ourselves,” Dean said, his face grim as he watched the heavy cavalry trample over the merchants’ camp. “The North’s heavy cavalry is even more terrifying than this—I’ve seen it when I was young. When they charge in a mass, everything is like paper against that line.”

Thales pursed his lips and remained silent.

For the first time, he understood the purpose of the Meteorite's ruthless act of tying him and Selma to horses and making them "get used to the battlefield."

The prisoners sighed in unison and turned to the only remaining battlefield: the Riftstone Tribe, which had been flanked by the Stardust Guard during their escape.

Compared to the Kromar family's overwhelming heavy cavalry charge that didn't even make a splash, all that was left there was the endgame.

Without a doubt, the warriors of the Riftstone tribe were brave and fearless: every time the human cavalry broke through a defensive line, a new batch of warriors would emerge from among them on command and spontaneously, resolutely staying behind to form a new defensive line, delaying the Stardust Guard's relentless pursuit with futile battles and inevitable deaths, and buying time for the continuously fleeing orcs.

On the other side, each cavalryman of the Stardust Guard was like a ferryman on horseback across the Hell River. They charged left and right, their blades and spears flying one after another, leaving behind only the cries of the orcs, their roars of anger, blood and pain.

They weren't without losses; one or two unlucky cavalrymen were shot down in the battle. The lucky ones managed to get back on their own or their comrades' horses, while the unlucky ones... But compared to the casualties and disadvantages suffered by the orcs, it was nothing.

Faced with swift, sharp, fast, and agile cavalry, the desert orcs' pride in their strength and explosive power, as well as their stamina and ferocity under heavy injury, all became useless. The once invincible tribal warriors appeared clumsy, weak, and helpless at this moment.

The knights on horseback would often ride in, suddenly change direction, and insert themselves into the side or rear of the orcs. Using their speed and momentum, they would strike with a sudden thrust or slash. Afterward, regardless of the outcome, they would pull on the reins and ride away, narrowly avoiding the enemy's powerful counterattack or infamous, deadly counterattack, and escape far away before the tall orcs could swarm them.

When facing groups of orcs, human cavalry would coordinate in pairs or groups of three, with one charging to lure the enemy while the other flanked and attacked from behind. They might even raise their crossbows or javelins and fire a volley, then both would flee to a safe distance before turning back to launch another attack.

As for those formidable opponents who saw them charging early and were prepared, the cavalry preferred to avoid their sharp edge and wait for another opportunity rather than risk an attack. They would even charge halfway, whistle, and then turn and run away, causing the orcs who were preparing to fight to let out indignant but helpless howls, and then receive the next deadly or non-deadly attack from behind or the flank.

However, many orcs were attacked, wounded, and injured by such cunning, hateful, and almost rogue tactics, and could only let out extremely angry roars from their bleeding, fatal wounds, watching their swift opponents flee into the distance.

In their frenzied state of severe injury, they futilely brandished their weapons, unleashing their terrifying endurance and explosive power, ultimately meeting a tragic fate: dying from exhaustion.

The number of orc warriors still fleeing is dwindling.

Kandar's roar grew increasingly hoarse.

Just like the fate of its subordinates.

Thales sighed deeply.

So, is this how the stories in bards' poems and history books—the legendary battle three thousand years ago where two thousand human cavalrymen defeated twenty thousand orc infantry—were created?
At this moment, a discordant voice emerged from the chaotic and brutal battlefield.

"Fuck your mother!"

The speaker was a knight who appeared to be a commander of the Stardust Guard. He had seen the unstoppable advance of the Chlomar family in the distance.

The knight broke away from the main group, urging his horse forward as he spoke in a gruff voice:
"That young master is really... Hurry up, girls! This is all our credit, we can't let him steal it!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a sharp sound swept over his head!

A long arrow landed not far from him.

The knight then realized what had happened and, still shaken, turned to the direction from which the arrow had come: among the fleeing orcs, a white-lipped orc drew another arrow and coldly nocked it onto the huge black bow.

The sharp-eyed Thales recognized him: it was Yakur, one of Kandar's Three Guardians, the orc who had killed the mercenary Panga with an arrow.

Fuck your mother!

The human who had just spoken spurred his horse and galloped towards Yaku, cursing, "It's you again, you androgynous, lipstick-wearing bastard..."

"Didn't your mother teach you not to shoot at moving targets when visibility is poor at night...?"

In response to this statement, Yakut's other arrow rang out!

"Whoosh!"

The speaker was startled.

The long arrow, powerful and heavy, grazed past the speaker's ear but pierced straight into the mount of another knight.

Amidst the horse's painful neighing, the poor knight fell to the ground and was immediately surrounded by several orcs.

Seeing his subordinate sacrifice himself, the human who had spoken flew into a rage and slapped his thigh: "I'll just fuck it!"

"Serpent Hand! Spirit Blade!"

He roared, pointing at Yaku: "Kill the one with the lipstick on!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a knight from the Starry Sky side responded and came running. He raised a longbow on horseback, nocked an arrow with a rope tied to its stern, and shot it at Yaku!

The arrow flew halfway, before it even reached Yaku, before falling limply and embedding itself in the shoulder of another orc.

The orc cried out in pain and gripped the long arrow.

The archer whistled, grabbed the long rope, and galloped off to the other side, seemingly trying to drag the orc down!
The orc roared and grabbed the long rope, pulling in the opposite direction to try and drag the knight off his horse.

The long rope was stretched, becoming straighter and tighter.

Thales was slightly startled. Having witnessed the orc's immense strength that could overturn heavy cavalry, he couldn't help but want to speak up and warn: Don't try to outmuscle it!
However, just as the rope was about to tighten and the knight was about to be dragged off his horse, the latter cunningly let go.

The orc who was holding the other end of the long rope and preparing to exert force suddenly lost his grip, lost his balance, and stumbled backward!
"Ha ha, you idiot!" the archer knight laughed.

Another knight swept past the fallen orc with a whoosh, his blade flashing eerily. Before Thales could see it clearly, the orc on the ground let out a groan, blood spurting from his neck.

"What the hell are you playing, you snake hand!"

The knight with the eerie glint of a blade let out an angry female voice: "The boss said—get to work!"

As she spoke, she reined in her horse, and three orcs surrounded her!

"Spirit Blade! Watch out!" The knight who had initially started cursing hurriedly warned.

But Thales, who was watching the battle, was shocked: the rope that had been shot out seemed to have a life of its own, suddenly bouncing up from the ground!
Like a giant python, it instantly coiled around the orc closest to the female knight, tightly binding her neck.

The orc dropped his weapon and painfully tugged at the rope around his neck, but the rope tightened on its own, shrinking to a point beyond their reach.

But the rope wasn't finished—the extra portion sprang up again like a snake, wrapping around the necks of the other two orcs!

"Don't worry, boss!"

The archer knight known as Snake Hand, holding one end of the long rope, smiled and gave a thumbs-up to the knight who had spoken: "Everything is under control!"

The next instant, a flash of light appeared.

Thales didn't even see how the blade was thrown before he saw blood splatter everywhere!

The three unfortunate orcs escaped being strangled—their necks were subsequently ripped open.

"Enough, Snake Hand!" The female knight named Spirit Blade flicked the blood off her blade, and, mounted on her horse, raised her sword at Snake Hand, who was dazedly pulling on the long rope, and said with displeasure, "We're going to deal with that lipstick-applying guy!"

"I didn't send you here to show off, you idiot!"

The snake-hand yelled, "You don't understand, this is my way of fighting..."

Thales stared in astonishment at the two knights, a man and a woman, his gaze shifting back and forth between their snake-like ropes and their eerie blades.

What kind of power is that?
The prisoners seemed no less surprised than Thales; they looked at each other, but Old Hammer's expression grew increasingly strange.

"Shut up!"

The knight who started cursing first seemed very angry: "That young master is trying to steal the credit, get back to work, fuck his mother—fuck!"

He was careless and broke away from the charging group, and was actually knocked to the ground by a desperate and furious orc, along with his horse!
"Boss!" Snake Hand and Spirit Blade exclaimed in unison.

Thales recognized him.

The orc was painted in blue battle armor and wielded a spiked club.

It is one of the Three Holy Guardians.

Orc Duraman.

It's Thales' "Flaca".

The blue-faced orc roared, raising his spiked club and aiming it at his "boss," who was pinned to the ground.

Thales sighed.

Just then, the fourth knight came galloping over, raising his hand from afar! In an instant, the sand and gravel around Duraman flew up like an explosion.

He lunged at Duraman's face!
"Shh!"

Amidst the flying sand and stones, Duraman put down his spiked club, covered his eyes, and retreated in pain.

Thales watched in astonishment at the scene before him: the flying sand seemed to be under someone's control, obscuring Duraman's vision and preventing him from killing the "boss".

But more orcs saw what was happening to Duraman, and they bypassed the charging cavalry, moving closer to the warchief's holy guard.

The knight, kicking up a cloud of dust, galloped to the rescue, shouting as he did so:

"Strange fire! Stop them!"

Further away, a fifth knight named Strange Fire galloped over, bent down, and pulled several round jars from his saddlebag.

"coming!"

As his mount galloped forward, the round jar flew from his hand and smashed into the charging orcs.

The round jars shattered, spilling black liquid that splattered all over the orcs' heads and faces.

Then, the knight named Strange Fire snapped his fingers.

"boom!"

Thales was startled again!
flame.

Endless flames erupted from the orcs who had been splashed with black liquid!

They cried out in pain as they burned, rolling around on the ground.

With the help of several knights, the "leader" finally crawled out from under his dead horse, cursing all the while.

But on the other side, after rubbing his eyes, Duraman roared and pounced on him!
The other knights rushed over anxiously, but it was too late.

"clang!"

The spiked club came crashing down from the sky!
It slammed hard into the shield that the "boss" had pulled out!

"Boss" grunted.

Thales, who had witnessed its attack before, felt a chill run down his spine.

Oops.

The power of the orc Duraman...

As expected, the blue-faced orc roared and slammed his spiked club down!
The "boss" contorted his face, seemingly unable to withstand the orc's immense strength.

"Damn... so strong... amazing..." he muttered intermittently, his whole body trembling, looking extremely strained.

But what happened next was once again beyond Thales' expectations.

The "boss" trembled as he braced his right arm against the shield, while his left arm slowly extended and gripped Duraman's arm tightly!
Before Duraman could even utter the curse, it was astonished to see its spiked club slowly... rising upwards.
what?
The human prisoners watching the battle were equally astonished!
"My God, is that a strongman?" Quick Rope blinked.

But that's right. In this struggle between humans and orcs, Duraman's weapon is being gradually broken apart by the human in front of him using the strength of his own body.

The knight known as "Boss" gritted his teeth, raised his eyes, and continued to grip the enemy's hand with his left arm.

"what!"

"Boss" roared, his arm muscles gradually tensing up.

Thales stared intently: he saw that the "boss's" left arm was a full size thicker than his right arm.

Finally, the "boss" unleashed unimaginable power, raising the spiked club above his head!

"boom!"

He kicked Duraman hard, then collapsed to the ground, panting.

The orc Duraman looked at his weapon with a grim expression, clearly unable to believe that he had been suppressed by a human.

It was panting heavily, its eyes filled with growing anger and resentment, and it took big strides to attack again!
But the orcs failed to advance.

Suddenly, the sand beneath Duraman's feet shifted, as if it had turned into the softest, most powerless water, causing the orc to sink completely into it!

As the sand sank to its waist, Durlaman could no longer move freely, and it groaned as it struggled desperately.

The next second, a rope that appeared out of nowhere slithered out of the sand like a snake and tightly wrapped around Duraman's hands.

Its spiked club rolled to the ground.

"Damn! Blinding eyes, give it a push!" The knight named Snake Hand's face was tense as he held the reins in one hand and the rope in the other, staring intently at the entangled orc: "This guy, it's incredibly strong!"

The knight he called "Blinded Eyes" rode up, looking equally constipated, staring at the sand on the ground, appearing quite exhausted: "This is already my full strength... Snake Hand, don't slack off either!"

But they still held Duraman firmly in place, preventing him from breaking free.

The "boss" finally caught his breath and got up from the ground.

He walked up to the locked-up Durraman, looked into the man's hateful and angry eyes, and repeated disdainfully:
"So what if you're strong?"

"Boss, hurry up!" In the distance, the knight named Strange Fire paced back and forth anxiously, frantically throwing round pots at the orcs trying to approach, igniting bursts of fire on the enemies, and desperately holding them back along with Spirit Blade.

"I'm almost out of gas!"

The leader spat, clenched his left fist, and stretched it back to the angle of a punch.

The muscles in his left arm twitched again.

Duraman let out a grief-stricken roar.

"but."

“That’s right,” the leader chuckled, “being strong is just amazing.”

The next second, the boss's fist struck out instantly, with such force that it even caused ripples in the air.

"Boom!"

There was a crisp sound.

He threw a standard uppercut.

What Thales saw next was the once terrifying and dreadful orc, Duraman, whose chin was pointing straight to the sky.

The blue-faced orc stopped moving.

On the sand dunes, the prisoners stared blankly at the battle between these extraordinary individuals.

“What a pity, Seka, who had just come of age,” Dean smiled, patting Thales on the shoulder teasingly, and pointing to the dead Durraman: “Your dear Fraka…”

"He was killed."

Thales responded with a polite smile.

"Yes."

The prince waved his hand, seemingly helplessly: "It's such a pity that I can't kill it myself."

“My God,” Old Hammer seemed oblivious to the fact that he was about to join in the little joke, staring intently at the group of strange cavalrymen, each with their own nickname: “Those men, they’re not just the Stardust Guard.”

"So who are they?" Quick Rope asked curiously.

“Freaks,” Old Hammer said coldly, “or ‘Freaks Squad’—that’s what we call them in Camp Baki, and even in the entire Western Front.”

Everyone responded with surprise.

"Freaks? The Freak Squad..."

Thales chewed on the word, his expression changing: "Could it be..."

“Yes, that’s a bunch of freaks,” the veteran from Starfall turned around, his expression conflicted. “It was Baron Williams who, despite the criticism and accusations, personally granted them amnesty and recruited them. Since their inception, they’ve caused countless troubles. Most of them are scum, criminals, madmen, and former prostitutes…”

"The Superpowered Team".

(End of this chapter)