Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 210 Doubt

The morning mist, sharp as a knife, sliced ​​open the aristocratic scarf around Westin's neck.

He rode his black horse at the very front of the Shadow Path, his newly bestowed bear-patterned armor scraping against the narrow mountain walls with a screeching sound.

The legendary knight Solo's greatsword dragged on the ground, and the sparks that flew up illuminated the fresh claw marks on the rock wall.

Those were the footprints of some large beast, their edges carrying a burnt, magical scent.

“Lord Westin, this road is treacherous.” Solo’s voice was like rusty chains. He raised his hand and tugged at his helmet, revealing a scarred face. “Are you sure this isn’t a dead end?”

Westin's fingers gripped the map tightly, the serrated edges of the parchment digging painfully into his palm. "Another half mile and we'll reach open ground. That's where I chased three runaway slaves back then."

Before the words were finished, a sudden, muffled thunderous tremor came from the mountainside.

Westin's warhorse reared up, and he caught a glimpse of metallic gleam beneath the ivy on the cliff to his left. Rows of crossbows were slowly rising, their arrows gleaming with a ghostly blue light.

"An ambush!" Solo's greatsword unleashed a holy light, but was deflected by the purple barrier the instant it touched the crossbow.

Westin's pupils contracted sharply as he saw the warriors standing behind the crossbows, their leather armor adorned not only with anchor badges but also with the thorny insignia of the Bauhinia Organization. Higher up in the rocky crevice, Wind Chime's snake-bone wand glowed with an eerie purple light.

“Lord Westin, it’s been a long time.” The wind chime’s voice, carrying the scent of sulfur, fell from above as she hung upside down on the rocky peak, her purple robes blooming like mandalas. “Lady Aishar said she was grateful for your ‘gift’—the terrain of this Shadow Path is perfect for burying nobles.”

Westin's heart pounded; he finally understood why Viscount Rhine insisted on having him walk at the very front.

As the first volley of arrows pierced the air, he instinctively pulled the messenger beside him to shield him. The muffled thud of arrows piercing armor and screams of agony rang out almost simultaneously.

Solo's Holy Shield barely held off the second volley of arrows, but the vanguard behind him was in complete chaos, with warhorses stumbling and crashing into the mountainside, their cries of agony echoing throughout.

"Retreat! Retreat now!" Westin's roar was interrupted by a sudden collapse of rocks.

He watched helplessly as the "safe route" he had marked was blocked by a landslide caused by witchcraft. Rocks rained down, and a knight's head was crushed by a boulder, his brains splattering onto his bear-patterned shoulder armor, the warm liquid seeping into the gilded seams.

Solo suddenly grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged him into the crevice: "You tricked us!"

The legendary knight pressed the hilt of his sword against his throat. "This is not a secret passage at all!"

“Viscount Wilke has long been colluding with the Bauhinia Organization,” Westing’s voice was interrupted by a cough. The smoke from the poisoned arrow filled his lungs, and the burning pain made it almost impossible for him to speak. “I don’t know either.”

Solo's pupils contracted sharply, and he abruptly lifted Westin's body to use as a shield.

Suddenly, a unified battle cry erupted from the other side of the mountainside. Westin peered through a crevice in the rock and saw Andisu's warriors, wielding their halberds, forming a black steel wall in the dawn light. Behind them, Robin's black hair fluttered in the mountain wind, the dragon scale patterns on his dragon-slaying spear reflecting the magical glow of the wind chimes.

“Westin, you’ve finally come.” Robin’s voice boomed like thunder across the valley. He raised his hand and fired a clay arrow, which pierced precisely through a crevice in the rock above Westin’s head, sending pebbles tumbling down. “Too bad your new master didn’t tell you this place has long been our hunting ground.”

The old knight gazed at the silver dragon banner fluttering behind Robin, and suddenly recalled his father's words on the day he first donned the noble's armor: "A knight's honor lies in protection." His own honor, however, had long since shattered on the path of betrayal. Solo's greatsword ultimately did not fall, for an armor-piercing arrow pierced his throat.

As Westin climbed toward the edge of the ravine, he saw his reflection shattered in the puddles. The old man with a full head of white hair had his face covered in blood and pebbles, and the bear pattern on his armor had been scraped away, leaving only half of his ferocious head.

"My lord!" came the voice of his lieutenant, Camille, who was covered in blood and clinging to vines below. "My lord... no, the warriors have blocked all the exits! We..."

Unfortunately, before Camille could finish speaking, Robin shot him in the forehead with an arrow.

Robin put down the compound pulley bow in his hand and let out a soft sigh.

Those below the rank of Order Knight are nothing more than arrows before him.

"Andysu, clean up the battlefield immediately." Robin's voice was resolute and unquestionable. He kicked aside the bear-patterned helmet at his feet, the dragon scale pattern gleaming faintly on his calves. "Have someone impersonate the vanguard of the Allied Forces. I want to wipe out the Allied Forces in one fell swoop."

Andisu knelt on one knee, the blunt side of his rock-hard battle axe slamming into the ground, splashing mud: "Yes!" He raised his hand and waved, and twenty warriors immediately scattered. Their movements as they drew their daggers were perfectly synchronized, the blades drawing cold arcs in the morning light.

That was stripping the armor off the knights of the allied forces.

Robin turned and looked into the depths of the Shadow Path, where the wreckage of the sorcerer's crossbow was still smoking, and the purple venom remaining on the string was seeping into the soil. He took out the sheepskin map from his pocket, his fingertips tracing the "Central Army Camp" mark circled in vermilion by Viscount Rhine, and suddenly remembered Wind Chime's secret letter from last night: [The Rhine bears like to lick honey before dawn, and our beehive is ready.]

"My lord, the disguise is complete." Andisu's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Robin looked up and saw that the thirty warriors had changed into allied armor, with the damaged bear markings deliberately preserved.

“Remember!” Robin shoved the map into the arms of a “knight,” the dragon scale pattern on his Adam’s apple pulsating. “Once we enter the camp, take control of the supplies and provisions. Wait for my signal.” He gripped his compound pulley bow, the vibrating bowstring startling an owl from a crevice in the rocks. “Let these nobles taste what it’s like to choke to death by their own greed.”

Andysu nodded, and as he turned around, he caught a glimpse of the Westin family crest hanging from Robin's waist.

It was a trophy taken from the old knight's corpse; the gilded patterns had been corroded by blood rust, revealing the inscription beneath: "Honor is my blood."

At this moment, the proverb swayed gently with Robin's movements, appearing ironic and desolate in the morning mist.

As the disguised vanguard disappeared into the fog, Robin also hid among the troops.

Viscount Rhein's gilded telescope was shrouded in morning mist as he stared through the lens at the writhing black dot at the entrance to the Shadow Path, his fingers unconsciously stroking the bear-patterned gauntlets.

The legendary knight Sauron's greatsword leaned against a tent post, the holy marks on the blade pulsating in sync with the vigilance in his eyes, as if it were about to be drawn and drink blood at any moment.

"Westin's men have been gone for almost two hours." The Viscount's voice was impatient. "Soren, do you think that old dog might be up to something?"

“His lieutenant Camille is a staunch supporter of Wilke territory.” Soren’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I find it hard not to doubt their loyalty.”

(End of this chapter)