Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 258 Battle of the Canyon 3
Salgman's ice rhinoceros stood up, and amidst the jolts, he saw the flag slowly rising from the city wall.

Under the cross-shaped battle flag, Robin calmly surveyed the carnage.

"For the sake of the frost, so that the tribe can escape the far west!"

Zuo Tula's roar was drowned out by the roar of the second round of ballistae.

The last thing he saw was a magic-piercing arrow made entirely of metal, hurtling towards his brow.

The demon-slaying arrow tore through the morning mist, sparking a string of dazzling sparks against Salgman's bronze visor.

The barbarian Zotura suddenly turned his head, his eyes locking onto Robin on the city wall through the smoke of gunpowder.

The moment their eyes met, invisible ripples of order exploded in the air.

"As expected, it's only in the early stages of order."

Robin lightly stroked the bowstring with his fingertips, feeling the energy fluctuations emanating from the other party.

Such a powerful being cannot provide him with new power fruits, and fighting against him also carries enormous risks.

"call out--"

Another arrow pierced the air and landed precisely three inches in front of Salgman's feet.

This isn't a killer move, but a blatant warning.

If this powerful figure dares to attack an ordinary soldier, the next arrow will pierce his throat.

Salgman's bronze battle axe trembled violently, and a wolf-shaped phantom appeared on its blade. He stared intently at Robin, then suddenly grinned maliciously: "Human bastard, you think you can win by holding me back?"

The battle axe slammed into the ground, and a shockwave knocked over more than a dozen soldiers from the Warhorse Legion.

But just as the energy was about to spread, Robin's third arrow pierced the core of the shockwave—the anchor pattern wrapped around the arrow shaft suddenly lit up, neutralizing the power of order into a harmless breeze.

"I said it"

Robin slowly drew his fourth arrow, this time with a whistling arrowhead.

"Your opponent is me."

The whistling arrows ripped through the battlefield, and all the soldiers of the War Spear Legion immediately changed formation upon hearing the signal, quickly moving away from the confrontation range of the two powerful figures of order.

The barbarian army was horrified to discover that their invincible Zotula was now pinned to the spot by a man and a bow, unable to move an inch.

Salgman's roar echoed through the canyon, shattering the rocks within a radius of ten feet.

Scorching white steam billowed from the gaps in his bronze armor.

That's a sign that the life force of a powerful being is boiling when they are thoroughly enraged.

"Damn archers!"

He swung his battle axe fiercely, the blade drawing three crescent-shaped trajectories in the air, shattering all seven arrows that Robin had fired in succession.

But with each arrow he cut, he was forced to take a half-step back.

The life force attached to those arrows was incredibly heavy.

Robin on the city wall smiled slightly.

He deliberately slowed down the pace of his bow draw, each arrow landing precisely at the delicate moment when Salgman's old strength had just been exhausted and his new strength had not yet been generated.

This terrifyingly precise control is even more breathtaking than a barrage of arrows.

"Left Tula! Watch out on the left!"

Suddenly, the screams of the army shamans rang out.

Salgman instinctively turned to the side, but an arrow that seemed to have missed its mark suddenly curved in the air, grazing past his ear and pinning the barbarian shaman who was forming a battle formation behind him to the totem pole.

"you--!"

Salgman's one eye was bloodshot; he had finally seen through Robin's tactics.

This terrifying archer wasn't simply holding him back; he was using him as a live target, while simultaneously sniping any barbarian officers attempting to command the troops. Even worse, when he tried to charge recklessly, iron arrows would rain down upon him, giving him no chance to catch his breath.

He tried using a round shield to block the arrow, but after being shot in the shoulder, he dared not try again.

The round shields forged by the barbarians were utterly ineffective against iron arrows of this caliber.

"Roar--!"

Zuo Tula unleashed a deafening roar, unleashing his full Order-level life force, shattering everything within a ten-foot radius around him.

When he looked up, Robin had already switched to three magic-piercing arrows that glowed with a ghostly blue light.

Before the arrow was even released, the killing intent had already frozen his throat.

“It’s no use, all your attacks are in vain.” Robin kindly reminded you, “If you retreat, you might be able to preserve the strength of this army. If you are worn down here, what will happen to you? You won’t even be able to return to the far west.”

Salgman's pupils contracted sharply, and Robin's words pierced his eardrums like venomous snakes.

For the first time, his hand holding the battle axe hesitated. Reflected on the axe blade was not only his own distorted face, but also the terrified eyes of the barbarian warriors behind him.

"You fart!"

He roared as he cleaved another incoming arrow in two, the flying metal fragments whistling through the air.

But this time, his movements were noticeably slower.

Robin slowly lowered his longbow, his fingertips lightly tapping the edge of the quiver.

This subtle movement silenced the entire battlefield.

The soldiers of the Warhorse Legion stopped fighting in unison, took three steps back, and formed a defensive formation.

"Look to your east."

Beneath Salgman's bronze mask, a bead of cold sweat slid down the bridge of his nose.

The smoke from the main battlefield is thinning, which is not a sign of victory, but a signal that the barbarian army's offensive is weakening.

He knew all too well what this meant: barbarian warriors could go three days without food, but their mounts needed sustenance, their bronze weapons needed repair, and more importantly...
The berserk state induced by the shaman's secret potion is nearing its limit.

"You are more clear-headed than I thought."

"Retreat now," Robin's voice suddenly carried a strange resonance, as if the rock walls on both sides of the canyon were repeating his words, "You can still take 30% of your troops back to the far west."

Salgman's battle axe drew a piercing arc in the morning light, scattering droplets of undried blood from its blade.

His roar was like that of a wounded beast, filled with a heart-wrenching determination.

"The snowstorms of the far west, the starving wolf cubs, the totem poles cracked by the cold!" With each shout, he took a step forward, his bronze boots crushing the arrows on the ground. "Do you still want to go back?!"

"In no mood!"

The roar of more than 20,000 barbarian warriors shook the canyon, causing rocks to tumble down.

They picked up their blood-stained weapons, their eyes no longer burning with rage, but with a more terrifying clarity.

That is the purest desire for survival of a wild beast driven to the brink of despair.

Robin frowned for the first time.

He saw the barbarian warriors tear open their animal skin garments, revealing totems newly painted in blood on their chests: no longer the traditional wolf shape, but a blood-dripping battle axe piercing an iron anchor.

"interesting."

He slowly drew out three specially made arrows, and as the bowstring was fully drawn, a mournful wail, like that of a ghost, filled the air.

Salgman suddenly accelerated his charge, his battle axe leaving a three-zhang-long trail of life force flames.

Behind him, the barbarian warriors formed a wedge formation, with the soldiers in the front row actually ramming their bodies into the barbed wire of the Warhorse Legion!
"For our new home!"

(End of this chapter)