I built a manor in the Middle Ages

Chapter 243 Forest Attack
The setting sun cast long shadows of the trees, which were reflected on the winding dirt path, resembling rows of twisted, fallen, dead trees.

A gentle stream meanders through the middle of the forest, its banks lined with pebbles. At the shallows, a weary group of travelers stopped.

Furman reined in his horse, letting it snort heavily and bloodily, and cautiously glanced left and right before smiling at a young knight behind him:

“Young master, it’s getting late. We probably won’t be able to reach Fort Cooper today. Why don’t we set up camp here?”

"damn it"

The young knight frowned, looking impatiently at the forest path.

"Damn it, it's only half a day's journey from here to Kupolburg. If it weren't for that damned Huss insisting on taking a detour, I would be drinking delicious milk right now!"

You can even touch a maid whose breasts are as big as a cow's.
Furman muttered to himself, but his expression grew even more submissive: "Young Master, Huss was sent specifically by the Master; he's a seasoned hunter. Besides, that valley is indeed easy to ambush during the day."

"Alright! Let's get to camp quickly. Oh, and don't forget to plant the heraldic flag!"

"Yes, young master."

As Joseph the young knight impatiently stopped Furman from speaking, he unconsciously glanced at the bearded man, Hus, beside him.

Hus, dressed simply and carrying a single bow, stood on tiptoe and gazed at the forest in the last rays of the setting sun.

Upon seeing this, Joseph curled his lip. He wasn't an ignorant fellow; he knew that taking the detour during the day was actually the right thing to do.

Three days had passed since they left Dijon. They had traveled this route several times, but no one could guarantee that the next trip would be safe.

Even if they had three cavalrymen.

However, Joseph really missed the maid. Just thinking about her voluptuous figure made his heart flutter.

And what bandit would be foolish enough to attack a well-equipped knightly corps?
After removing his nose shield and letting the evening breeze blow into his neck, little Joseph let out a long, satisfying sigh.

By the stream, another infantryman was bending down to fill his helmet with water. Little Joseph also wanted to wash his face, but after taking only two steps, suddenly, a cold arrow shot out from the side!
thump!
The infantryman who was just drawing water was now a corpse, falling straight backward.

"Damn it!"

Joseph paused for a moment, then his expression changed drastically, and he instinctively drew his longsword and shouted:

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

Damn it, someone actually dared to attack me!
Furman also noticed this, but before he could cry out, another crossbow bolt whistled past his cheek.

The crossbow bolt ripped open a patch of flesh, and blood flowed down the horrific wound. The burning pain startled Furman, who immediately fell to the ground and instinctively looked back, his scalp tingling instantly.

The third crossbow bolt, its tail still trembling, was embedded right where he had just stood!

"Quickly, raise your shields and mount your horses!"

"Attendants, come and cover me!"

Joseph turned and ran toward his warhorse, while a squire who had escaped the attack raised his German shield to protect his master.

Everyone sprinted while crouching low; those damned crossbow bolts were terrifying!

Furman scrambled to his feet, but before he could even regain his footing, the moment the crossbow bolt missed its mark, the once quiet forest seemed to come alive. The sound of leaves rustling and chainmail clattering filled the air, and in the blink of an eye, seven or eight fully armed attackers sprang out like ghosts.

The outlines of swords and axes appeared and disappeared in the shadows. The attackers were all masked. Furman stared intently at them, feeling that they looked somewhat familiar.

"Scatter and kill!"

A voice speaking in German, heavily influenced by the ancient Highlands, interrupted Furman's thoughts. He saw the attackers split into two groups, surrounding him and Joseph Jr.

"Hussein, hold them off, I'm going to mount my horse!"

After a moment, Furman made his judgment.

He wasn't stupid. The enemy outnumbered him by nearly double, and their equipment was in no way inferior. Now, his only option was to follow in the footsteps of young Joseph and flee on horseback.

That's right, it's about escaping; thinking of fighting back is wishful thinking.

As for Hussein and his entourage, they were on their own. Unlike the others, the bearded Hussein remained calm from the moment he saw the attackers, and upon hearing Furman's words, he silently nocked his bow and arrow.

Seeing the shield formation erected on the opposite side, he gently lowered his arm, and with the vibration of the bowstring, with a "whoosh," he shot a powerful arrow at Furman's feet.

"Damn it, what are you doing!"

Furman turned around, his face full of disbelief, but he was met only with Huss's cold smile.

The experienced hunter ignored Furman's roar, looped another arrow around his movement, and then hit the shield of the attacker who was trying to chase him with a precise shot. Then he disappeared into the forest and vanished without a trace before the sun had completely set.

Realizing what was happening, Furman gritted his teeth.

"Ignore him!"

The attackers ignored Hus and instead completely surrounded him.
Furman is definitely a veteran, and the reason he hasn't been punished by Berry despite making so many stupid mistakes is because of his martial arts skills.

Wielding a two-handed sword, his moves are simple yet fierce.

Even the most skilled knight cannot withstand an attack from three or four people.

Moreover, there is another leader on the other side with equally formidable combat power.

Just a second after he deflected a spear, a flying chain hammer slammed into the back of his head. He frantically tried to block it, but a longsword suddenly appeared from the side.

The chaotic sounds of fighting terrified the warhorses, which, being tethered, could only neigh incessantly, making the riverbank even more chaotic. The disheveled Furman fought his way back through the grass to the stream.

On the other side, Joseph Jr. was also struggling.

His loyal guards had long been knocked to the ground, and without his entourage, young Joseph, who had little combat experience, was powerless against the attackers.

"Didn't you see that coat of arms? I am Baron Berry's eldest son!"

Joseph roared, but all he got in return was silent mockery from the other side.

When a crossbow bolt killed one man and another escaped, Furman, who hadn't even mounted his warhorse yet, knew that the balance of power had already tipped before the battle even began.

Standing by the stream, his helmet had disappeared in a short time, and several more wounds had appeared on his legs, but he still didn't know who the attacker was.

As Berry's squire, he knew very well that Berry had made too many enemies.

However, there are only a few people in this well-equipped squad.

But he had no time to think things through, because the leader of medium height was attacking him again. Seeing this, Furman quickly drew his sword to block, and sparks flew as the two knight's swords clashed. With gritted teeth, the man twisted his wrist and pressed down along the blade, making a sharp, grating sound.

Furman's swordsmanship was by no means weak, but he felt powerless against an attacker of medium height.

The standoff lasted no more than two seconds before the attacker suddenly kicked him hard in the stomach. Furman cried out in pain and fell backward. Before he could recover, another fat man rammed into him like a bull. The huge impact caused Furman to stumble and fall into the stream.

While in pain, Furman suddenly felt a whooshing sound coming from his left!

Furman was terrified, but it was too late. A hammerhead had already struck his left shoulder. His chainmail cushioned some of the impact, but the broken rings still pierced his flesh. With a scream, he lost all feeling in his left arm. Furman couldn't help but kneel down. He tried to stand up using his sword, but the stream was too slippery. Turning his head to look at the attacker, he saw that the man's hammerhead was covered with a disgusting, sticky substance—it looked like someone's brain matter.

Furman's pupils contracted sharply as he looked to the side. He saw Joseph and the others lying in pools of blood. The young squire had been cleaved in two, his entrails scattered on the ground. Joseph's skull had been ripped open, and he was pinned to an oak tree by a spear. The banner that had been draped over him was slowly being soaked in blood.

Looking at the man, who was as burly as a bear, Forman finally realized why he looked familiar.

It was him.
The page header hammer was raised again.

The moment the hammer's shadow descended, Furman raised his longsword once more.

boom!
Under the force of gravity, Furman felt as if his arms were about to break.

Blood had already soaked half of his face, flowing into the lining of his armor. The warm, fishy smell of the blood made him extremely uncomfortable.

Just as he was struggling, a spear suddenly pierced his neck from the side, the tip of which emerged from the other side, still with bits of flesh hanging from it.

Forman froze, his mouth opening and closing, but no scream came out; only a gurgling sound and blood gushing from his neck. Finally, like a chicken with its throat slit, he thrashed twice and collapsed into the stream.
Watching Furman convulse, the attacker put away his rifle, wiped it on his breeches, and dried the blood from the tip.

(End of this chapter)