Warriors will die if they charge.

Chapter 105: Warriors Will Die When They Charge

"Do you understand what sacrifice is, you untouchable?"

Moraz said in a deep voice, his gloomy gaze fixed on his youngest sister, Eileen: "I have wandered the world for many years, suffering from deadly plague, the beast plague that spread among the beastmen, and all sorts of unimaginable hardships. I have seen true heroism in countless people who have transformed a wanderer, courage, faith, strength—and most admirable of all, sacrifice."

Tell me, Eileen, are you willing to make a sacrifice for our brother, Morgan and Bellamy's eldest son, Moraka?

Eileen's eyes trembled slightly, but she quickly regained her composure; she was not a little girl who could be fooled by sweet talk.

She just wanted to live her own life well and hated men who talked about sacrificing for lofty ideals but ended up not even taking care of the people around them.

"You're talking to me about sacrifice? Who was it that, during the twelve years his brother was out of his mind, maintained the family and the business guild, abandoned his studies, and became the mother of four girls at the age of sixteen? Was it you, Moraz, who talks so much about brotherhood?"

Moraz smiled calmly, neither pleased nor angered by the comment: "We're both past the age of trying to persuade each other with words. The little girl who used to follow me around has now become a mature woman."

"Indeed very mature." Marcus nodded in agreement, though it was unclear what he meant. He waved the battle staff in his hand and said, "Alright, enough of this bullshit. I don't care about your brotherhood or any of that nonsense. If you wanted to help, you would have gone back to Silver Mountain City long ago. Your return now means you're plotting something."

"And what are you plotting, Marcus Noelfitz? I've investigated your background; your father, Shelley, was one of the surviving miners. You must have witnessed his suffering from chronic mercury poisoning before he died. And now you're helping Morgan's daughter—"

Kuran clenched his fists; this was a thorn in his side that he could never get past.

Moraz's gaze remained fixed on Eileen. He nodded as if suddenly realizing something: "I see. It seems your hatred for Morgan is far less important than lust. Eileen is a beautiful girl, the most beautiful flower in Silver Mountain City—beastly lust, what an ugly thing to do."

"So?" Marcus suddenly leaned close to Eileen and put his arm around her slender waist. "We're getting married next month, on the same day as your funerals. I'll even use your coffins as the banquet tables."

Eileen was suddenly embraced, her rough, strong hand stopping at her sensitive waist and abdomen. That hand didn't make any further moves, just like her body, which instantly stiffened.

She turned her head to look at Marcus's face and found him continuing to spit and make witty remarks for her, while Moraz, who was being mocked, lost his composure, as if their embrace was a desecration of what he believed in.

"Damn it, Eileen—he's from Riverside Town. You'd be better off marrying a farmer than these beasts. Have you ever seen them eat goblin flesh raw or make cockfighting a legal tradition? The only thing they're better than the northern barbarians is that they speak the Common Tongue!"

Moraz's anger prompted Eileen to play along, hooking her arm around Marcus's shoulder and hanging on him, her toes pointed, as she gently pressed her rosy lips against the warrior's cheek.

With a hint of defiance, even rebellion, she said to her brother, "At least he treats me like a woman who needs care, which is infinitely better than you and Moraka, those two self-centered guys!"

"Then there's nothing to talk about—"

Moraz lowered his sleeves and drew a strangely shaped, ornate military knife. Moraka's prayer ended at the same time. He bowed and stood up, his dull gaze beneath his helmet obeying his brother's command.

"Big brother, you go and deal with that kid with the spear, I'll handle this one."

"it is good."

Marcus released Eileen, signaling the incapable young lady to stay away, as he wouldn't hesitate to kill her two brothers later.

Kuran whistled lightly, glancing sideways at his aunt, whose eyes were filled with worry as she slowly backed away: "Marcus, she likes you, I can tell."

"Everyone likes me, who wouldn't like me? Except fools." Marcus laughed heartily, drawing his sword and brandishing his staff, staring at Moraz who was observing him: "The handsome knight is yours, no problem, right?"

"Who am I?" Kuran asked rhetorically, raising his spear and exuding a fierce aura from his close-fitting leather armor.

"I'm Kuran, the fierce dog!"

He roared, his legs tensed as he charged forward, his spear thrusting out like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, tumbling in the dim light that streamed into the church.

Moraka is a knight who has lost his mind. The barbarian witchcraft torments this war hero, and he has lost the ability to support himself. He will spend the rest of his life trapped in the icy and snowy encirclement.

He lost his life; all that remained for him was the endless war in his mind.

The knight, wielding a broadsword, faced the ferocious hound's attack. His movements were incredibly powerful as he unleashed a furious, sweeping slash. A brilliant arc of light pierced through the dust haze in the dim light, striking directly at the steel tip of the spear.

boom!

With a bang, sparks flew everywhere. The hound and the knight maintained a relatively far distance, using the advantage of the spear to thrust back and forth repeatedly. Countless afterimages flashed, but it was almost impossible to see where Kuran's arm was.

The knight's fighting instincts made him understand that he needed to fight at close range. The lance was always the simplest and most efficient weapon in war. It was a deadly weapon in the hands of a master, but a novice could also achieve remarkable results.

The only way to deal with the armed soldier is to charge in.

Moraka growled at the damned barbarian, pressing his legs forward and using the large windmill in one hand to forcefully slash through several thrusts. The sword then spun and cleaved towards the "barbarian's" cheek.

But some people are born with extraordinary talent. Kuran is a natural warrior, far more substantial than Marcus, a stubborn warrior who relies on cheat codes. When he saw the giant blade coming toward his face, he did not retreat but advanced, lowering his center of gravity and narrowly dodging the whirlwind's slash. The spear followed closely, seizing a momentary opening, and swept toward the knight's helmet.

crunch~

The steel spearhead sparked as it rubbed against the helmet. The fierce dog, which had just passed the knight, turned back in disbelief to find that the helmet only had a barely perceptible black mark.

"Kuran, that armor is a magical protective suit custom-made by a dwarf master at a great expense!"

Kuran yelled at Eileen, who had reminded him, "Why didn't you say so sooner?"

"I didn't expect that the spear in your hand was just an ordinary weapon—"

"Damn rich people!"

The fierce dog, far more agile than the knight, began a close-quarters fight. If the protective gear couldn't be penetrated, then it would aim for the eyes and throat. Nothing can't be dealt with in one shot; if it can't, then another shot will do the trick!

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