Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 364 Another Hunt (The End)
[The Hunting Grounds]
The silver-horse rider was skillfully luring his prey on the east side of the hunting grounds, but those with sharp eyes had already noticed something unusual on the other side:

"Look! That blond kid is still alive!"

"what?"

"Ha, he's still alive? He's lucky."

"Wait a minute! Why is he still walking towards the middle of the hunting grounds?"

The noblemen and women who were watching the ceremony all thought that Earl Harlan, even if he didn't die, would at least be seriously injured.

Therefore, when they witnessed the blond fighter stagger to his feet and walk alone towards the bison once again, their shock was indescribable.

Upon seeing Siegfried return to the stage, Hernan Jr.'s lips curled into a faint smile.

He waved his flag lightly, and immediately eight more gladiators entered the arena. Four were on horseback and four on foot, each carrying a flag-bearing lance or a cloak.

Hernan Jr.'s eight assistants stood around Siegfried, keeping a distance of more than ten meters from him.

Seeing that everything was ready, Hernán the Younger, on horseback, took off his hat, which was adorned with a large feather, and gracefully waved it to the audience.

Then, Hernan led the bull toward where Siegfried was.

But he did not let the bull charge directly at Siegfried.

When the bull was less than 20 meters from Siegfried, two of Hernan's assistants stepped forward to "take over" the bull.

The tall, mounted assistant constantly struck the stirrups with the tip of his spear. The shorter, walking assistant emitted loud, short shouts.

The two assistants successfully diverted the Bulls' attention.

Distracted by the sudden noise and the enemy, the bull stopped chasing Hernan and did not pounce on Siegfried.

After a brief hesitation, the Bulls attacked the walking assistant.

The short assistant who was attacked was not alarmed but delighted. There was no fear on his face. He spread his cloak and ran around the bull.

But how can two legs outrun four? In just a few steps, the bull caught up with the short assistant.

Just as the bull's horns were about to pierce through the short assistant, the assistant's raised cape gave the bull an illusion, making it mistakenly believe that it was about to collide with some enormous creature.

Then the bull swung its horns sharply upwards.

The short assistant seized the opportunity when the bull slowed down as it charged upwards, and with a wave of his cloak, lured the bull to his side, narrowly avoiding its horns.

At the same time, he leaped to the side and rear of the bull, pulled up his cloak, and quickly retreated to a distance.

The bull suddenly lost its target and stood there, panting heavily.

With this set of fluid movements, the short assistant won the applause of the entire audience. He also took off his hat and waved it to thank the cheering noblemen and ladies.

And so, the bull stopped about ten meters from Siegfried, and Hernan's assistants quietly stepped back and made way.

Most of the nobles who watched the performance were unaware of the undercurrents beneath the water and assumed that young Hernán was a pre-arranged savior.

But when they saw that Count Harlan, who had "come back to life," was going to continue the gladiatorial combat, many people genuinely applauded.

Standing in the center of the hunting ground, Siegfried understood—this was "Little Hernan's help."

Only now did he have the leisure to examine his opponent closely.

The bull's tongue lolled out, and white saliva dripped continuously from its mouth. This wild creature was now exhausted, and the glossy black fur under its neck had changed color from being soaked in blood.

It was badly injured; the wounds Siegfried had left on it were still bleeding, especially the final, fatal stab.

But its expression remained calm—as if it had been calm from beginning to end.

Siegfried looked down at the rapier and cloak in his hand. Whatever the cause of this gladiatorial combat, it could only end with the death of one side.

Siegfried slowly raised his rapier and waved his cloak.

The Bulls launched another attack.

To be able to face a massive beast weighing nearly 700 kilograms charging head-on at 30 kilometers per hour and not immediately turn and run away is already a commendable act of bravery.

But Siegfried had to do something even more difficult: he also had to insert a slender, curved sword into the bull's heart.

Siegfried stood upright, shirtless—his clothes had been cut and torn off by Farnan—and waved his cloak lightly with only his right hand.

He trusted Farnan's judgment, and Farnan did not disappoint him.

The bull charged straight at the burqa, not at the humans hiding at the edge of the burqa.

The onlookers had no idea what Siegfried was doing; they only saw the bull charging toward him while he stood motionless.

As the blonde "beauty" was about to die, people in the stands and along the railings couldn't help but scream in alarm.

"what!"

However, the sharp horn grazed Siegfried's waist by a hair's breadth, and at the same time, Siegfried leaped up and thrust his sword into the bull's back with his left hand.

The tip of the curved sword met the bull's back at a very small angle, eventually slipping off and leaving only a bloody groove on the bull's back.

Those who witnessed this scene couldn't help but let out another long sigh of regret:

"Oh……"

The bull, having overextended itself, quickly turned around and aimed its horns at Siegfried again.

At this moment, the two assistants who had just retreated rushed forward, shouting, banging, and waving their cloaks to provoke the bull, leading it away from Siegfried.

……

[Outside the paddock]
With one hand gripping the sword hilt and the other clinging tightly to the fence, Fa Nan stared intently at the situation inside, as if he would rush into the hunting grounds to rescue people at any moment.

After the race, young Hernán, who had just tied up his horse, trotted over to Farnan, adjusting his hat, and asked, "Did I miss anything?"

"No." Farnan bowed deeply, his eyes still fixed on the arena. "Thank you for your help, Your Excellency Hernan."

"Aren't you tired of always being so polite?" Little Hernan affectionately hooked his arm around Fanan's shoulder. "But that's all I can do to help him. The one sword that will truly kill the bison will ultimately have to be pierced by him himself. But... if Count Harlan goes too far, you can come work for me! How about it?"

Farnan deftly stepped back half a step, maintaining an arm's length distance from Hernán.

Hernan shrugged regretfully, turning his gaze to the enclosure: "You don't need to worry too much. Earl Harlan has already exhausted the bison and drained a lot of its blood. I led it on a run for a while. Now, the bison's strength and speed are far less than at the beginning, so I think Earl Harlan's chances are probably..."

Hernan the Younger optimistically offered his assessment: "Half."

Farnan silently gripped the hilt of his sword.

"So seriously, if Earl Harlan messes things up, you might as well become my adjutant." Little Hernan patted his chest with immense pride: "My father is an Imperial Marshal!"

……

[Inside the paddock]
Siegfried was unaware that someone was trying to poach his adjutant.

He was gradually entering a state of complete absorption.

Each previous battle and every clash had made him increasingly "familiar" with this bull. At this moment, Siegfried understood his opponent as well as he understood his friend and his enemy:
The width and direction of its horns, its reaction when attacked, the speed at which it turns, its habitual movements...

Siegfried raised his curved sword and unfurled his cloak.

Hernan's assistants had initially wanted to give Earl Harlan a little more breathing room, but seeing that Siegfried was ready again, the assistants exchanged glances and led the bull toward Earl Harlan once more.

It was another extremely dangerous encounter, with the horns positioned even closer than before.

Siegfried leaped up and drew his sword.

Or not!

This time the sword went deeper than before, but it only went in less than a foot before it couldn't go any further; it must have gotten stuck in a bone crevice.

Despite the excruciating pain in his hand, Siegfried drew his curved sword as the bull turned.

The assistants quickly stepped forward and led the bull away again.

……

[Outside the hunting grounds]
"Oh no!" Hernan suddenly yelled, "[A series of intense, surprised Castilian swear words]!"

Fanan suddenly turned his head.

Little Hernan's eyes widened as he asked, "Is Count Harlan left-handed?"

"Yes," Fanan answered without hesitation. "What's the problem?"

Hernan placed both hands on Farnan's chest and explained rapidly, "The bison's heart is also on the left side, understand? Gladiators have to use their right hand to insert it! Count Harlan is left-handed, and he holds his cloak in his right hand, so he can only dodge to the left, which is not a suitable position for the sword!"

Upon hearing this, Fa Nan immediately looked towards the hunting grounds.

Young Hernan was extremely frustrated: "I just said that Earl Harlan had a fifty percent chance of winning, but now it might not even be a ten percent..."

……

[Inside the hunting grounds]
As soon as his assistant lured the bison away, Siegfried was ready again.

He had a shallow, bleeding wound under his right rib, a souvenir left by the Bulls in their recent encounter.

If Siegfried's shirt hadn't already been completely cut open and removed by Farnan, this attack from the Buffalo would have been enough to send him flying.

Siegfried didn't waste a single second, as if he didn't want to rest for even a moment longer.

He threw off his gloves, and the blood that had accumulated inside them was also shaken out.

He stood on tiptoe, extending his left arm holding the sword straight out, the tip pointing directly at the bull, his eyes intently following the direction of the sword to the bull's back.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, across his brow, and finally dripped from the tip of his nose, landing on the dust.

Siegfried remained motionless, as if his heartbeat and breathing had completely stopped.

He had entered a state of extreme mental concentration, where nothing in the world existed except his opponent.

He stood there in the very center of the hunting ground, his bare upper body gleaming with a peculiar sheen from the blood, sweat, and mud.

He stood there like a bronze statue, his arms, chest, and even every muscle line were exquisitely crafted.

He not only controls the audience's emotions, but just by standing there, he makes everyone hold their breath.

The bull arrived, and Siegfried waited quietly. This time, he didn't let it move to the left.

He held his cloak horizontally in front of him, pulling it down low.

When he could feel the heat of the bull's breath, he suddenly lifted his cloak to cover the bull's eyes, without even jumping or moving an inch.

His feet were firmly planted on the ground, and his left hand thrust out a curved sword, piercing between the bull's high, rounded shoulders from the front, all the way to the hilt.

The bull's massive horns now became a disadvantage, as their width was just enough to accommodate Siegfried's body.

At that moment, many people had the illusion that the images of man and cow seemed to merge into one, inseparable and perfectly integrated.

However, that scene seemed to be just an illusion, because when he closed his eyes and then opened them again, the blond man was knocked away by the bull.

But that scene was so memorable that the noblemen and women watching the ceremony all saw the same thought in the eyes of others.

Inside the enclosure, the bull stood majestically in the center of the hunting ground, while the blond man lay on the ground, his fate unknown.

Outside the enclosure, all was silent.

The bull took a few more steps toward the blond man, then suddenly knelt down, its hind legs bending as well.

The wild creature slowly lay down on the ground and collapsed with a crash.

Amidst the dust and smoke rising from the bull's carcass, a blond figure struggled to stand upright.

In an instant, cheers erupted and soared into the sky.

At this moment, the royal hunting grounds were conquered by the man standing in the center of the hunting grounds.

Witnessing this earth-shattering sword strike, the nobles of the Castile Peninsula were driven to utter madness.

The men cheered until their cheeks flushed, while the women abandoned all rules and constraints, throwing handkerchiefs, veils, scarves, and anything else they could into the arena. Many young men jumped over the fence, eager to embrace the new legendary gladiator.

The happiest person in the crowd was little Hernan, who shook Farnan's shoulders frantically, screaming excitedly, "It really works! It really works! Hahahaha..."

In the Royal Stand, the Duke of Lothair was overjoyed.

Looking at the Castilians cheering and jumping inside and outside the hunting grounds, he laughed and said to his nephew, "This scene really reminds me of the grand spectacle you witnessed back then when you fought bears and lions, and even took on three beasts in a row. I remember the Castilians were like madmen back then! Good heavens, it almost deafened me!"

"I am not as good as him; he has had a harder time than me." Although the emperor did not show any joy, he was clearly in a good mood, as could be seen from the way he addressed him: "Uncle."

Duke Lothair's heart skipped a beat, and he casually teased, "Could Earl Harlan really be your illegitimate son?"

The royal grandstand fell into absolute silence, while the hunting grounds below were now a sea of ​​merriment.

In contrast, the atmosphere in the Royal Stand was extremely strange—the question asked by the Duke of Lothair was absolutely taboo even within the royal family.

The emperor suddenly burst into laughter, bending over backwards. People hadn't seen the emperor laugh so heartily in a long time.

Even when glass bottles filled with water and sand from the North were delivered, even when the Imperial Navy defeated the Fremans and recaptured Rhodes Island, even when the native emperors of the Far Western colonies bowed and knelt before him, the Emperor had never smiled like this.

The emperor smiled and waved his hand: "No."

His voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for everyone to hear clearly.

The Royal Stand returned to its previous atmosphere—cheering, laughing, and celebrating for Earl Harlan.

Amidst the joyous atmosphere, only the emperor, seated at the very front, appeared somewhat forlorn.

The emperor rested his chin on his hand, leaning against his throne, a hint of tenderness and regret in his eyes—Duke Lothair seemed to see once again the boy who was still human.

"I wish I had a son like that," the emperor said softly.

[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, rewards, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
Even in ancient China, the ability to single-handedly hunt wild beasts was considered a commendable skill. For example, when praising a brave warrior, one might say they could "tear a tiger or leopard apart" or "fight a bear and slay a tiger," and so on.
[Liu Xu, the fourth son of Emperor Wu of Han, was known for his strength, capable of lifting a tripod cauldron and wrestling with bears and wild beasts bare-handed. However, because he was too wild and his actions were unrestrained, he was ultimately not chosen as the heir to the Han throne.]
However, cattle were an important means of production in ancient my country, so even a strong man wouldn't fight a cow one-on-one.
[Moreover, more progressive moral systems, such as Confucianism and the Church during the Dark Ages (after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, the Church was indeed a beacon of civilization), strongly opposed "human-animal combat for amusement."]
[There's a historical record, but I've forgotten who the person involved was and can't find it... It says that when the emperor went hunting, he saw a tiger and said to his general, "I've heard you're very brave. Can you fight the tiger with your bare hands?" The general replied, "If I did that, I'd be an idiot; if you ask me to do it, you're not much smarter either." He then rode off and shot the tiger, and then gave the emperor a lecture on principles, etc.]
[Returning to today's perspective, bullfighting is indeed somewhat cruel. There are even calls in Spain for legislation to ban bullfighting. Perhaps in the future, if you want to see this cruel yet unique performance live, you'll have to go to Mexico or other Central and South American countries.]
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(End of this chapter)