Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Troski's guard jumped into the river to give chase, but the slippery river made it difficult for them to catch up with the "shield bandits" ahead.

After chasing for several dozen meters, they saw the camp left behind by the "Ulcer" gang.

The two running "shield bandits" also stopped, holding their shields and no longer retreating.

"Ha, you can't run anymore, you bastards!"

The guards cursed angrily.

Suddenly, an old man with gray hair, wearing a monk's gray robe, emerged from the dilapidated tent in the camp, holding a seemingly ordinary broadsword.

"If you're not ulcers, then who are you?"

Klaus was stunned and asked in surprise.

The old monk was indeed Martin. He calmly said, "Are you all here looking for the 'Ulcer' gang? Unfortunately, they are no longer here."

"What do you mean by saying the ulcer gang is gone? Isn't that what's behind you?"

Klaus's face darkened, and he placed his hand on his sword hilt, saying, "Are you playing me?"

"They're gone, which means they're dead, but their souls can't go to heaven; they can only go to hell."

Brother Martin slowly raised his sword, tip pointing downwards, assuming an ancient starting stance. His voice was calm as a prayer: "I come by the Lord's will; He desires peace, not harm. So, can you lay down your weapons to avoid injury?"

The guards were stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Old man, what nonsense are you spouting!"

"Boss, let me teach this fake priest a lesson!"

The brave Lucas, eager to make a name for himself, was the first to rush forward and capture old Martin.

Martin did not dodge.

Just as the opponent was about to strike, the old man's body slid half a step to the side with incredible flexibility, and with lightning speed, he seized Lucas's arm.

"Snap!"

Lucas collapsed to the ground in agony from a dislocated arm, howling in pain; the entire incident lasted less than three seconds.

The guards' expressions of anticipation vanished abruptly.

Klaus's pupils constricted sharply: "This is a master! Attack together!"

The guards charged simultaneously. Martin's sword flashed like lightning. His swordsmanship was precise and efficient: parrying, deflecting, thrusting—each strike aimed at the weakest point of the enemy's weapon or a gap in their armor. The old man seemed to be dancing a death dance. The broadsword felt weightless in his hand, each swing carrying a certain rhythm. He always deflected incoming weapons at the smallest angle, then, like a viper's tongue, the blade struck the enemy's wrist, elbow, or knee in an instant.

"Ah! My sword—"

"He pierced my leather armor!"

"That old monster!"

All four guards fell to the ground within a minute, their weapons falling from their hands, each bearing a wound that, while not life-threatening, completely deprived them of their ability to fight.

The other guards felt a chill run down their spines.

"Fire!" Klaus roared.

The ranger hiding behind hastily drew his bow, but before the arrow could be released, a cold wind swept from behind. A large wooden club struck his arm squarely, the bow and arrow fell, and his arm bent.

"My arm is broken! Ouch!"

The ranger clutched his arm and yelled. Then they saw a tall, red-haired youth burst out from behind them, wielding a large club and charging towards Captain Klaus.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Klaus raised his sword to parry. The heavy wooden club struck him, causing his arm to sink and the blade to get stuck in the wood. He tried to deflect the force but failed and was hit hard.

The red-haired youth was Peter; they had arrived here long ago. To capture these guards alive, he first had his men impersonate Ulcer's henchmen, luring them into the river to pursue him. Then the old monk engaged them in battle from the front, while Peter launched a sneak attack from behind, simultaneously blocking the enemy's retreat.

"state!"

The big stick came down again. Peter's strength of 30 points had reached the human limit, and Klaus was knocked off balance.

"Bang!"

With the third blow, Klaus's sword collided with the wooden stick, sending splinters flying. The blade became deeply embedded in the stick, impossible to pull out. Peter then delivered a flying kick that struck Klaus squarely in the chest.

"Clatter"

Klaus was thrown a long way.

Other guards attempted to provide assistance but were stopped by reserve members of the combat team.

Peter drew his longsword from his waist, the tip of which was already half an inch from Klaus's throat on the ground.

"surrender."

His voice was calm yet carried an irresistible authority.

Klaus broke out in a cold sweat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that most of his guards had fallen, and the four who were still holding on were in grave danger. The powerful old monk had already freed his hand to approach them... It's over!

"I surrender!"

"Klaus said dejectedly. From the start to the end of the battle, less than five minutes had passed, and his once-proud ten-man guard was completely incapacitated."

Even when they were all tied up, Klaus still couldn't believe he had been defeated so decisively.

"Who...who exactly are you...?"

"Klaus asked."

Peter smiled and said, "I am Peter Griffin. A knight."

"He who brings salvation to you lost sheep."

The old monk Martin added, making the sign of the cross on his chest.

.............

Meanwhile, at the crossroads.

John the Big Mouth, with a voice loud enough to wake the entire forest, shouted: "Look, look! John the Big Mouth's secret potion! It cures bruises, backaches, and marital discord—oh wait, it doesn't cure that! Only five Grossens a bottle!"

Monkey, Andre, and Robert set up a stall next to him, also displaying some "secret ointments".

But their minds weren't on business at all. Instead, they were looking around.

"I think it's pretty silly of us to shout like that."

"The adults said, if you're going to pretend, at least make it convincing."

"We're going to pretend to be pharmacists, not clowns. Listen to what John is yelling..."

"Don't speak, there's noise."

The group looked into the distance and saw a cloud of dust rising from the road.

"Here it comes!"

"Keep your voice down! Do you want them to notice something's wrong?"

"Yes, yes, we have to act. We have to pretend we just discovered them in front of them."

The four continued setting up their stall until Serush and his group were about fifty meters away. Only then did they pretend to look them over, then exclaimed in surprise and began to frantically tidy up their stall. They deliberately knocked over two jars of ointment, shattering the earthenware jars and splattering the green ointment all over the ground.

"Father, is that John the Big Mouth?"

Swatia pointed at John's stall and shouted, "They look like they're going to run away!"

The executive officer narrowed his eyes: "Capture them! Alive!"

Ace raised his hand to stop them: "Wait." He carefully observed John and the others' "panicked" packing up, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth: "They're putting on an act."

"What?" the executive asked, puzzled.

"Look at that big guy—" Ace pointed at John, "his eyes were glancing our way when he knocked over the medicine jar. A truly panicked person doesn't care how far the enemy is."

Therush was stunned: "You have excellent eyesight. What should we do?"

Ace patted the two hunting dogs beside him: "Release the dogs. Dogs can't act. If they run, we'll chase them. But keep your distance and watch out for ambushes."

The order was given. The two hunting dogs shot out like arrows.

When John and his men saw the hunting dogs charging towards them, they ignored the potions and ran into the woods.

"Oh my god! Dog! Run!"

The acting instantly transformed from "feigned panic" to "genuine emotion," making it even more realistic.

The mercenaries and guards burst into laughter.

"Look how fast they run! Like frightened rabbits!"

"They can't even bear to throw away their medicine pots! Typical poor bandits!"

"Chase them! Catch them!"

Ace calmly waved his hand, and the group began the pursuit, maintaining a distance of about two hundred yards from John and the others. The hounds charged ahead, barking furiously as they tracked the scent.

The four men weaved through the woods, deliberately choosing the most difficult paths. The guards behind them had to slow down, cursing incessantly.

"These bastards always choose this kind of road!"

"My horse is going to limp!"

"Captain, aren't we being too cautious? Shouldn't we just charge in and arrest them?"

Ace said coldly, "No rush, let's play with them."

The guard awkwardly shut his mouth.

And so, a comical chase lasted for nearly two hours. John and his men were exhausted, and the guards were furious but helpless. Finally, as the sun approached noon, John and his companions spotted the iconic rock face of Devil's Canyon ahead.

He took a deep breath and shouted with his last breath, "Run into the canyon! There are hiding places there!"

The four rushed into the canyon entrance.

Outside Devil's Canyon is a small, funnel-shaped plain covered with lush green grass. A herd of deer was foraging there, but when they saw so many people coming, they panicked and fled into the canyon.

Two hunting dogs gave chase, and soon their barking filled the air.

Outside the valley entrance, Ace heard the hounds barking and realized something was wrong. He frowned. "It might be a trap… but we can't lose the hounds. First squad, go into the valley to search, be careful of ambushes. The rest of you, stand by."

"receive"

Just as the three mercenaries were about to give chase, they heard two pitiful barks from inside.

"Come back! Line up!" Ace shouted hurriedly.

Ace reined in his horse outside the canyon and raised his hand to stop the group. He squinted as he surveyed the towering rock walls and narrow valley passage on either side.

"Captain Ace, what's wrong?" Therush, being older, was exhausted from the two-hour chase and asked breathlessly.

"The terrain here is too treacherous," Ace said, pointing to the valley entrance. "There should be an ambush inside. My two hunting dogs are dead; it will be very dangerous for us to go in."

"So... we're not going in? We're just going to watch them escape?"

Swatia, being young and impetuous, chased after the enemy for two hours only to find nothing, which was something he absolutely could not tolerate.

The equally exhausted soldiers felt much the same way.

"If we had pressed our advantage from the start, we would have caught them much sooner. We've wasted so much time on this."

"Yeah, where are the traps? You're just scaring yourself."

"If you ask me, he's just a coward."

......

The crowd's discussions did not change Captain Ace's decision. After a moment's thought, he said, "Go in. But take a different route—go around to the side of the canyon and occupy the high ground on both sides. Let them wait idly at the bottom of the valley."

After saying that, he turned his horse around and led the group to move to the side of the canyon.

However, the steep mountain was extremely difficult to climb. They could only leave their warhorses, tents, food, and other supplies on the grassland at the valley entrance, and assign five mercenary soldiers to guard them, while the rest of them climbed on foot.

As everyone knows, climbing mountains is physically demanding. Climbing mountains while wearing heavy armor is even more dangerous. Don't be fooled by the fact that the mountains on both sides of the canyon are only a little over a hundred meters high; climbing them is no easy feat.

When they reached the halfway point, Thelushi was already exhausted. Many soldiers were cursing under their breath. Ace also secretly regretted underestimating the steepness of the canyon's sides. But now, even if they had to crawl, they had to finish.

"Give it a try! Once we reach the summit, we'll have a panoramic view of the canyon. The bandits lying in ambush will be completely taken aback!"

Ace encouraged everyone and persuaded Theros to support him. With the Executor's support, the group continued their arduous climb, and they were almost at the summit.

Suddenly, a group of people appeared on the mountaintop, waving a large blue flag with a red griffin painted on it. The group also carried oak shields, which were also decorated with griffins.

"Whose family crest is this?"

"who are they?"

"Oh no, this is an ambush!"

The thought had barely crossed the minds of the climbers when a hail of arrows rained down from the mountain. The arrowheads were coated with a "sleeping agent," which would render anyone struck unconscious within a minute. This was in accordance with Peter's instructions to kill as few people as possible.

"Whoosh whoosh!"

The first volley of arrows came from the crevices in the rocks above and from behind the trees. It wasn't a volley, but rather a series of staggered, staggered arrows.

"Damn it, I've been shot!"

"Ouch! Someone shot me in the arm! I'm so dizzy!"

The climbers instantly descended into chaos, shoving and bumping into each other. Some tried to retreat but trampled on those below. Already exhausted, they were now completely drained.

The second volley of arrows fell.

They were still using medicated arrows. One guard was shot in the thigh. At first, he only felt a stinging pain, but a few seconds later he suddenly felt numbness in his leg, lost his balance, and fell to the ground.

"The arrow is poisoned!"

"It's a poisoned arrow!"

Panic spread like a plague. The anesthetic wasn't actually fatal, but in the chaos, no one could calmly discern the truth.

Ace could see clearly from outside the valley entrance and knew they had fallen into a trap. Their ambush wasn't in the canyon, but on the mountain, deliberately waiting for them to be exhausted before attacking!

But retreating was easier said than done. Tom's men began pushing down pre-prepared logs from a high place—not large enough to kill anyone, but enough to create more chaos and obstacles.

"Get down the mountain, to open ground!" Ace roared. If they could escape to flat ground, they could at least regain their footing—

But when he looked down, a horrifying scene unfolded before him. John the Big Mouth, Andre the Redbeard, Monkey the Skinny, and Robert the White Hair, who had previously fled into the canyon, had reappeared.

Four men, each wielding a shield adorned with a griffin design, charged out and attacked five mercenaries guarding horses, armor, and provisions on the flat ground.

"Hurry down the mountain! Hurry down the mountain!"

There were ambushes above and attacks below. Ace knew he had completely fallen into their trap, and no matter what he chose, he would face an ambush.

Going up the mountain or into the valley is a mistake, so the only option is to retreat and hope for another battle.

Ace dragged the executor, Thelusht, whose legs were already weak, down the mountain and ran, not daring to look for the horses anymore. It was obvious they had fallen into the hands of Big Mouth John.

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves approached.

Six horses galloped in, blocking the entrance to the canyon. The lead red-haired knight declared, "Welcome to my Demon Canyon. Lay down your weapons, or die."

Ace counted the number of the enemy, then looked back at the few terrified people behind him—the screams from behind were still coming.

He knew that the battle was completely lost—even the retreat had been part of the enemy's plan.

"Who...who are you people?" Ace asked hoarsely. "Ordinary bandits couldn't possibly have such an organization and tactics."

Red-haired Peter laughed triumphantly, "We are not bandits. I am Peter Griffin, a knight seeking redemption. Now you are my prisoners."

Ace gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, but in the end, he slowly released his grip. His sword clattered to the ground.

The guards behind him looked at each other and then put down their weapons one after another.

The battle within the valley was nearing its end. Those guards who had fallen, wounded by arrows, were tied with ropes; the uninjured were forced to surrender by crossbow bolts. Troski's guard and the mercenaries were completely wiped out.

The news spread rapidly throughout the Troski region after the executor Therosh's son, Swatia, was released and allowed to return home to raise ransom.

The name of Redemption Knight Peter Griffin once again became a hot topic of conversation in the tavern after this battle.