Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Chapter 218 Occupying the Ruins

At this moment, the castle ruins were filled with shouts of battle.

Peter, along with Henry, Chris, Muller, and Brienne, charged in from the front.

Henry, like a silver lightning bolt, charged first toward the ruined gate, now only broken iron hoops remained.

His steps were light and swift, the sound of his boots on the gravel almost swallowed by the wind.

Muller followed closely behind, his heavy footsteps striking the earth like war drums, his massive body appearing as a mobile fortress in the darkness.

Chris and Brienne flanked Peter, one on each side.

The young squire nervously swallowed, while the female knight calmly regulated her breathing, her azure eyes gleaming with unwavering determination in the shadow of her helmet.

Peter walked with seemingly leisurely steps, but in reality, it was because the heavy equipment prevented him from moving quickly.

He had to maintain this elegant facade, as if he were not there for a life-or-death struggle, but for a noble outing.

To play to his strengths and avoid his weaknesses, Peter did not draw his sword. Instead, he drew his elm longbow. His master archery skills, at level 20, combined with the Nightingale Potion's amazing enhancement of his vision, allowed his gaze to pierce through the thick darkness and take in every detail of the chaotic battlefield.

In his eyes, the Cuman soldiers who could not adapt to the darkness were like fish swimming blindly in a dark pond.

Before the first Cuman soldier could even raise the alarm, Peter's arrow pierced his throat at an uncanny angle. The slight thud as the arrowhead pierced the cartilage was exceptionally clear in the silent night. As the soldier fell, disbelief and horror lingered in his eyes.

Chaos spread rapidly, like ink dropped into water.

Unable to see in the dark, the Cumans were completely lost.

Some ran westward in terror, shouting incomprehensible nonsense;

Some, under the reprimands of junior officers, barely managed to organize a fragile defensive line by clinging to the ruins.

Several lit bonfires cast flickering, menacing shadows among the broken walls and ruins, rendering the bloody night battle like a living, breathing depiction of hell.

Henry had already charged into the crowd like a whirlwind. His swordsmanship, like the man himself, was swift and deadly.

A fierce Cuman warrior roared and swung his scimitar at the enemy's head, the blade whistling fiercely.

Henry neither dodged nor evaded until the moment the scimitar was about to strike him, at which point he suddenly turned sideways, took a step, and parried with his longsword from bottom to top.

With a sharp clang, sparks flew between the two men, illuminating the Cuman's ferocious face and Henry's calm eyes.

In the instant of parrying, Henry deftly flipped and pressed his wrist, deflecting the opponent's force while simultaneously unleashing a swift and deadly thrust with his sword tip, piercing directly through the weak spot under the opponent's leather armor.

As the blade was withdrawn, trailing a streak of blood, warm blood splattered onto the mottled, ancient stone floor, gleaming with a viscous, dark red sheen in the flickering firelight.

"Left side! Watch out!" Müller's roar was like a thunderclap.

Taking advantage of Henry's moment of sheathing his sword, a cunning Cuman stealthily emerged from the shadows on his left, his scimitar aimed straight for Henry's ribs.

However, Muller's greatsword had already struck first! It was no longer a contest of skill, but a pure crushing of power!

The greatsword swept across with a fierce wind that tore through the air, and the Cuman didn't even have time to parry before he was cleaved in half, weapon and all!

The sickening sound of bones cracking was clearly audible. The body flew backward like a stone thrown by a catapult, crashing heavily into a dilapidated wall behind it before sliding softly down, leaving a shocking bloodstain on the wall.

Although Peter moved slowly, each step seemed precisely calculated, maintaining an elegant posture while finding the best shooting angle.

Each time he drew his bow, it was concise and efficient, without any unnecessary movements. Every vibration of the bowstring was accompanied by a spray of blood or a scream that abruptly stopped.

He specifically targeted Cuman's minor leaders who attempted to organize resistance, or shooters who posed a threat to Henry and Müller.

Chris and Brienne, like two fierce generals, were on high alert, guarding against any possible attack from the shadows.

Brienne's shield deflected several incoming arrows, the metallic clanging sound particularly crisp in the night.

The battle quickly escalated to a fever pitch. The Cumans, after all, had the numerical advantage, and a burly man who appeared to be their leader organized a force of more than twenty men. He wielded a heavy spiked club, his rugged face covered with hideous scars.

"Damn it, how dare you attack the great Cuman warriors!" His roar echoed through the ruins.

Henry and Muller stopped, flicking the blood off their swords. "Great warriors?" Henry's tone was laced with cold mockery. "Great 'warriors' who only rob caravans and murder unarmed monks?"

These words thoroughly enraged Chief Cuman. He let out a beastly howl, and his spiked club, accompanied by a fierce gust of wind, crashed down towards Henry's head! The iron spikes embedded in the weapon gleamed dangerously in the firelight.

Henry didn't take the hit head-on; instead, he glided backward with the grace of a dancer. The spiked club slammed heavily onto the ground, sending shards of stone flying like raindrops.

Just as his opponent's move was about to end, Henry moved! He stomped forward, not with the blade, but with the weighted ball at the end of the hilt, slamming it into his opponent's face.

"Crack!" The sound of the nasal bone breaking was unusually crisp.

The Kuman leader screamed and staggered backward, his vision blurred by the gushing blood, and his spiked club fell from his hand.

Just as he drew his scimitar as a secondary weapon, ready to fight on, Muller, standing by his side, was not about to give him a chance to catch his breath.

A swift downward slash struck the opponent's hastily parrying arm, sending the curved blade flying. Immediately afterwards, the sword tip slashed upwards, precisely cutting open his throat, and blood gushed out like a burst wine sac, forming an eerie rainbow in the firelight.

The leader clutched his neck, making strange hoarse noises, and finally collapsed heavily to the ground.

After their captain was killed, the remaining Cumans were demoralized and began to scatter and flee.

However, Hainik and his men, who had occupied the high ground, were already on high alert. Several arrows whistled down and accurately shot down the Cumans who were trying to escape under the cover of night.

"Well done!"

Peter approached slowly, shouting his approval. Suddenly, a Cuman on the ground lunged forward, but Chris, standing beside him, parried the dying scimitar with his longsword and then kicked the man in the stomach.

The Cuman curled up in pain, and Brienne immediately finished him off with a sword strike, ending the fight.

The outer perimeter of the castle.

Kubinka's team was guarding the path down the mountain: "Look! A rat is trying to escape!"

Having drunk the Nightingale Potion, they clearly saw the furtive movements of the Cumans and shot them dead with a few arrows.

"Blocking rat holes is my specialty!"

After the last remaining Cuman who put up a stubborn resistance was dealt with, the ruins finally returned to silence, with only the crackling of the campfire and the faint groans of the wounded remaining.

Peter stood in the center of the courtyard and put the longbow that had rendered such a great service into a mysterious space that no one could see.

He surveyed the ruins of a brutal battle that had just taken place. His silver armor remained pristine, untouched by blood, a stark contrast to the gruesome surroundings.

However, at this moment, no one could ignore the invisible majesty emanating from him, an aura that commanded life and death and dominated the battle.

At his command, his men began to systematically clear the battlefield, treat their own lightly wounded, and at the same time, expressionlessly give the enemy's seriously wounded a quick death, ending their suffering.

The two brothers, Hua Gudu and Che Gu, supported each other as they trudged through the corpses. Hua Gudu's left arm was badly wounded; the blood had soaked through and congealed on his sleeve, turning it a dark brown color.

Although Che Gu was still pale and weak, needing his brothers' support to stand, the light of life and the flame of hope had been rekindled in his originally dim eyes.

"Your Highness," Flower Bud knelt on one knee, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, "we will never forget your kindness!"

Peter reached out and helped them up, noticing the deep, bloody welts on their wrists from the ropes. "You've both proven your courage," he said, his tone softening. "What are your plans for the future?"

He also harbored some wicked thoughts about the two brothers; if he could win them over, he might be able to plant a seed in Moravia ahead of time.

Flower Bud sighed, "We wanted to find Father's reliquary so we could bury him at the monastery. But we searched everywhere and couldn't find it."

Che Gu seemed to remember something and said urgently, "When these Cumans tied me up the mountain, it seems that some of them went to the nearby logging camp. Could they have taken me away?"

"A logging camp?" Peter nodded thoughtfully. "Don't worry, I admire brave warriors the most, and I will continue to help you."

It seems things aren't completely over yet.

"Thank you, Your Highness!" The two flower bud brothers bowed again in gratitude.

Peter nodded, then turned to Eric, who was directing the cleanup of the battlefield: "Quickly gather the weapons. Hynik, take some men and bring up the prisoners from down the mountain so they can collect the bodies."

His gaze swept over the bloody battlefield. "I'll be stationed here for the next two days. I don't want this place to continue stinking."

As dawn broke through the night, the sky turned a pale white. The ruins of Zimberg Castle revealed their weathered appearance in the morning light, but today, this ancient land was soaked in new blood. The banner of silver dawn fluttered atop the highest tower, proclaiming victory in this night's battle.

Henry, looking at the bloody scene around him, walked over to Peter with mixed feelings. His armor was covered with the marks of battle, and his face was still wet with sweat and blood.

"My lord," his voice was low, "are all nobles this cruel?"

Peter turned his head, keenly sensing the confusion in Henry's tone: "Why do you ask that?"

Henry, as if finding an outlet, recounted in detail the stories of Rushard, Vavank, and Christian. He concluded, "Those nobles seem to completely disregard ordinary people, treating them merely as bargaining chips. I'm somewhat lost, wondering if Hans will become like that someday."

Peter's gaze deepened as he looked at the gradually brightening horizon. "Henry, people are all selfish, whether commoners, merchants, the church, or nobles."

His voice was calm: "Ordinary people would fight and brawl over a chicken crowing under someone else's window every day."

Merchants will cheat to make more profit; monks will sell indulgences to fund their mistresses.

Nobles would also impose exorbitant taxes on their subjects in order to build castles. It's just that the lack of restraint among nobles amplified this selfishness.

So God kept telling me that people's behavior should be regulated by morality and law, regardless of whether they are nobles, priests, commoners, or merchants.

He turned and looked Henry straight in the eye: "But achieving this goal will encounter countless obstacles. There may be commoners and merchants unwilling to obey the law, monks unwilling to relinquish their wealth, and nobles unwilling to be bound by constraints who will become my enemies. When that time comes, will you be willing to help me?"

"Of course!" Henry answered without hesitation. "Once Hans is safely rescued, I would be more than happy to fight alongside you!"

Peter patted Henry on the shoulder with satisfaction.

The sun finally rose fully above the horizon, its golden rays bathing the ruins. Peter stood under the flag, his shadow stretched long.

The house has been cleaned and is ready to welcome the guests.