Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 237 The Battle in the Forest
As the morning mist of Baining Forest was torn apart by the first arrow piercing the air, the Frostwolf of Muru was tearing apart the throat of a scout.

Warm blood splattered onto the right-hand man's visor, and through the blood mist, he saw the most absurd scene of his life.

Three hundred paces away, the Crawford family's golden griffin banner gleamed in the morning light.

The count under his command, clad in magnificent gilded armor, was pointing his jeweled sword at him.

"Release the arrows!" Muru's roar shook the pine needles to the ground.

The humming of the barbarian bone bow was like the sigh of death.

Specially crafted ice-piercing arrows pierced through the morning mist, pinning the front-line heavy cavalry, men and horses, to oak trees.

A young knight, still convulsing after being pierced through the throat, had the mane of a snow wolf wrapped around the arrow shaft stained crimson with his blood.

"Barbarians! Charge!" Crawford's scream went awry. His meticulously manicured nails snapped on the hilt of his sword, but he felt no pain.

The forest trembled.

As the legendary knight of House Crawford cleaved through the breastplate of the third knight with his two-handed greatsword, he heard a chilling sound.

That was the tremor of at least five square formations of heavy infantry approaching in orderly steps.

Earl Crawford, his longsword piercing the eye socket of a barbarian, suddenly turned and roared, "It's the Knights of House Lorraine!"

Muru's frost wolf mount suddenly stood on its hind legs.

The battle-hardened barbarian general finally saw the situation clearly: to the east was Crawford's main force, to the west was the iron torrent of House Lorraine, and to the north, on their retreat route, another noble's silver-shielded spearmen had appeared at some unknown time.

Most importantly, these were elite soldiers, and with their numerical advantage, they were able to fight the barbarian warriors to a standstill.

"Form a circular formation!" His battle axe cleaved two heads off, the splattered blood freezing into ice crystals in the air. "Retreat to the riverbank!"

But it was too late.

Robin stood at the highest point of the Emerald River bend, watching the red dots representing the two forces on the light screen become completely entangled.

The ghost general's bone flute was playing an ancient tune, and twelve purple thorn iron chains beneath the river trembled slightly with the music.

“Wait a little longer.” He pressed down on the axe handle, which was throbbing restlessly in Ironjaw. “We’ll make our move after they’ve committed their main force.”

The treetops on the opposite bank of the river suddenly began to move without wind, startling a flock of crows into flight—a sign that the main force of the three thousand Frost Wolf Riders was approaching.

The fog is condensing into ice crystals at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The banner of the King of Salghman flashed through the beech canopy as the charge of three hundred heavily armored knights shattered the frozen ground.

Their warhorses' hooves were covered in spikes, each step leaving a crater the size of a bowl in the decaying leaves, the sharp, triangular barbs slicing through the mist and leaving three hundred silvery trails of death.

Harold, the golden-armored knight of House Crawford, crushed the last pain-relieving herb. His steed, Ironhoof, had shattered the breastbones of seven great knights in the Battle of Blackwater three years prior.

At this moment, the warhorse neighed wildly, and the frost wolf that had been pounced on with its front hooves had its left eye pierced. The ice crystal fragments that spewed from the wolf's mouth stung Harold's visor.

But before he could celebrate, the mournful neighing of a warhorse suddenly came from his left. A frost wolf, using the momentum of the tree trunk's rebound, pounced, its serrated fangs tearing open "Iron Hoof's" throat. Warm blood sprayed onto Harold's armor, instantly freezing into scarlet ice flowers.

"Third Squadron, turn left!" Count Lorraine's lion-patterned cloak fluttered in the wind. His longsword was only three inches from its sheath when a chilling sensation suddenly ran down the back of his neck.

As the Frostwolf Rider's icy arrow pierced the mist, the spiral runes at its tip emitted a ghostly blue light. The arrowhead exploded the moment it touched the Earl's chainmail, countless tiny ice crystals piercing the back of his neck like steel needles.

The legendary knight's roar was stuck in his throat as his body slammed heavily against the century-old oak tree. His longsword clattered to the ground, and the few withered leaves it had picked up instantly froze into fragile crystal butterflies.

When Right Danghumuru's battle axe cleaved through the sixth breastplate, the frost wolf fangs embedded in the axe blade finally gave way and broke into three pieces.

The barbarian commander shook the brain matter off his battle axe, watching his breath condense into ice crystals on his chest.

His powerful aura radiated outwards from himself, creating a ten-zhang-wide icy domain. Every leaf that touched this domain instantly formed hexagonal ice crystals, as if an invisible giant hand had scattered a handful of diamonds.

"You son of a bitch, human!" Muru's curse shook the ice crystals off the tree. His frost wolf mount, "Snowswallower," was pinning down a fallen knight with its front paws. As its wolf fangs tore through the knight's throat, Muru swung his battle axe in a wide arc.

The knight in silver-embroidered armor raised his shield to block, but heard a crisp "crack" sound.

The steel shield shattered like glass, but the battle axe continued its momentum, cleaving from the shoulder to the hip, and the blood mist it created when it cut the man in two condensed into a brief rainbow in the air.

The meat grinder in the center of the battlefield is intensifying.

A human knight was sandwiched between two oak trees, and three icicle arrows pierced his knees, elbows and throat at the same time. When the Frostwolf warrior's bone knife plunged into his abdomen, the blood that flowed out had frozen into dark red lumps.

Another frost wolf was pinned to a maple tree by five spears, its claws still tightly gripping a knight's visor. Even as its heart was pierced, it maintained its biting posture, saliva mixed with blood dripping onto the knight's face, scalding and forming sizzling blisters.

Mulu suddenly felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively turned to the side to avoid it.

A crossbow bolt with a fiery tail flew past the masked man's helmet, leaving a bloody mark near his ear.

He turned his head and saw three great knight archers reloading their arrows in the bushes twenty paces away.

Muru swung his battle axe, unleashing a crescent-shaped burst of icy energy. Three beech trees, each as thick as a bowl, snapped in two. The falling trunks smashed the archer into a bloody pulp, but also revealed his position.

"Kill that barbarian leader!" A new shout came from behind, and thirty golden-armored knights formed a wedge formation, charging over the corpses of their comrades.

Their lances had burning linen tied to the tips, leaving thirty leaping tongues of fire in the twilight.

Mulu spat out the blood foam from his mouth, patted "Snow Swallower's" neck, and the man and wolf suddenly turned and crashed into the coniferous forest on the left.

The dense pine trees shielded them from the first volley of arrows, but when the knights chased into the woods, they found dozens of wolf skulls scattered on the ground—barbarian trap markers.

The first explosion came from underground.

The pre-placed magical barrier exploded beneath the horses' hooves, sending sharp ice shards flying in a fan shape, instantly severing the forelegs of six warhorses.

Amid the screams of the knights, Muru leaped down from the tree branches, his battle axe striking a knight's visor with tremendous force. The knight was sent crashing into the snow, the force of the blow sending ice crystals and brain matter flying onto the faces of those around him.

Before the remaining knights could react, the pine trees on both sides suddenly snapped, and more than a dozen frost wolves pounced down from the trees. Sharp bone knives were strapped to their claws, and they slit the knights' throats the moment they hit the ground.

(End of this chapter)