Pioneer Wizard's Notebook

"Uncle Overdose?"

On the noisy wall, fifteen-year-old Broad stared blankly at the head that had rolled to his feet.

Meeting the defiant, protruding eyes of the dead man, his mind went blank for a moment.

This was his first time stepping onto the battlefield, and he was filled with anticipation to see the flowers, applause, wine, and hymns of the story.

What appeared first before their eyes were the corpses of their loved ones.

A strong, pungent smell of blood followed, and the Icefield Demon, which was devouring flesh, bared its fangs again and pounced at high speed. Brood was at a loss and stood there dumbfounded.

An arrow shot from behind, accurately piercing the Ice Demon's vulnerable eye and interrupting its attack.

"Run! You idiot, don't just stand there!"

His companion Mark's shouts woke him up.

Broad shuddered, instinctively raising the ill-fitting, large shield in his hand, and staggered forward.

Mark was absolutely furious: "Where are you going?!"

"I don't know, I don't know! All I know is I have to stand in front!"

The spear had long since been discarded somewhere. Brod, now targeted again by the Ice Demon, trembled all over and cried out as he charged forward with his shield raised.

Boom!

A dull thud sounded.

Just as Brod was happily thinking he had blocked the attack, the surging impact blew the shield away.

This time, his neck was completely exposed in front of his fangs.

The stories are all lies; so this is the real battlefield?

A strong, pungent stench emanated from the wolf's mouth, which was inches away. Broad seemed to hear his mother's angry scolding, weeping and rebuking him for sneaking out of the house.

Don't scold me, Beth, Mom. I'm about to die. Remember to spend that fifty silver coins as compensation sparingly. Your father and I can't send you money from heaven.

Helpless, he closed his eyes and prayed.

Yet, the pain of being torn apart was not felt for a long time.

Instead, there was the whooshing sound of a longsword cutting through hard objects.

Brod hurriedly opened his eyes. The scarlet wolf's kiss was gone, and what came into view was a head of golden hair that shone like the sun.

The sheep-like young master he had never paid attention to was now standing in front of him.

The longsword in his hand and the severed wolf head both testified to the opponent's masterpiece!

"Well done, keep a tight grip on your shield next time."

Linde dealt with the Ice Demon that had rushed in, picked up the shield at his feet, and tossed it to the young militiaman in front of him.

He didn't linger there, but hurried to another defensive line that had almost been breached.

Only he and William in the army were capable of directly killing the Ice Demon, and the tense situation did not allow them to relax for a moment.

Mark approached Brod, but his gaze was filled with surprise as he stared at the agile figure that had killed the Ice Demon one after another.

"You can't call him a sheep anymore!" Brod said.

"you're right."

Seeing the look of admiration and excitement in his companion's eyes, Mark did not object this time.

The battle continues.

Thanks to the protection of the solar winds and the efforts of Lind and William.

The Ice Demons failed to break through the wall's barrier in one go, and their numbers continued to decrease.

If they can hold out successfully, it won't be long before these monsters lie dormant beneath the walls.

"Ah! My hand!"

Just as Lin De breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly, terrified shouts came from the other side of the wall.

He quickly looked over and saw that it was a humanoid ice field demon that had climbed up.

But unlike the other naked bodies, this monster was covered in a tattered cloak.

Climbing onto the wall, its palm pierced the corpse of the wolf-shaped Ice Demon.

He pulled out a two-meter-long spinal sword and swung it down, severing the militiaman's arm along with his shield!

"Extraordinary magical power, the Icefield Ghost Knight?"

The burning higher sunflowers were thrown by the soldiers.

However, when faced with the solar winds, the Icefield Ghost Knight let out a painful roar. Instead of dodging, it swung its greatsword with even greater ferocity, with blood flowing freely and limbs flying everywhere.

Lind hurried over, but William, who was standing right next to him, got there first.

The knight's sword clashed with the greatsword, and the surging impact knocked William back.

"You beast who tarnishes the honor of knighthood, get off me!"

William abruptly stopped, picked up the shield from the ground, and charged forward with all his might.

The space between the walls was cramped, and if the monster were allowed to wield its sword freely, the militia would suffer heavy casualties.

The man and the monster collided head-on, creating a dull thud.

William successfully knocked the Icefield Ghost Knight off the city wall, but he himself also fell down, crashing to the ground and getting up somewhat disheveled.

"roar!"

A horde of Ice Demons surrounded them.

Fortunately, high-grade sunflowers were cast onto the wall in time, and the rising solar winds dispelled the frost.

The only thing walking towards him was the enraged Icefield Ghost Knight.

"Ha, the Knights of the Blossoming Territory will not lose to an ugly monster like you!"

William raised his longsword, turned to the side, and bent his legs slightly forward, assuming a fighting stance.

But the Icefield Ghost Knight didn't rush over. Instead, a black light shone from his murky, dead-fish-like eyes as he stared at William.

If any veterans who experienced the last ice storm were here, they would surely be shocked by this insidious tactic of the Ice Demon.

A terrifying ability called the Gaze of Fear, capable of silently eroding a soldier's will.

William, who was about to swing his sword, froze in place.

"Winter?"

His lips trembled as he softly repeated the surname that Baron Jefferson had given him.

Time stood still at this moment.

In a daze, William seemed to return to the day many years ago when the Baron adopted him and named him.

On that day, a tall and imposing man will lift him from his pigsty and bestow upon him a noble surname reserved for aristocrats.

He was overjoyed and boasted about it to everyone he met, until one day he heard soldiers laughing behind his back and realized what was going on.

Winter is the most fearsome enemy of the northern ice plains, and has always been hated.

The surname Winter, which means winter, also carries another unspoken meaning in this land—an unwanted illegitimate child.

Over the years, facing Baron Jefferson, who was nominally his adoptive father but was actually his biological father, he devoted himself to honing his knightly skills and risked his life to complete every assigned task.

Just to pursue that warmth that never existed.

In the end, he was nothing more than a disposable tool; Sunflower Senwright never had a place to call his own.

The longsword fell to the ground, and William stared blankly at the greatsword that was swinging towards him, giving up the fight.

Perhaps dying here is the best end for him, the one who is no longer needed.

boom!

Death did not come as expected; instead, the golden sun descended from the sky.

The blades clashed, and the resulting shockwave sent snowflakes flying everywhere.

Linde leaped down from above, holding his sword in both hands, to parry the Icefield Ghost Knight's greatsword.

"Your soldiers are watching from the wall, William! Pick up your sword and show your chivalry!"

The magical runes of the Whirlwind Slash circulated within his body. Lind forcefully deflected the greatsword and looked at William.

The latter stared blankly at the flowing blond hair in front of him.

After a moment, he bowed slightly and picked up the longsword.

Thank you.

Step forward, unleash a spinning slash!

Rage surged forth as William looked at the Icefield Ghost Knight, his fury erupting as he unleashed a series of slashes that roared like a storm.

A battle belonging to the knights erupted on the snow, the symphony of swords reverberating across the battlefield.

Seeing that William had regained his fighting spirit, Lin De breathed a sigh of relief and then began to massage his stiff arm.

His physical abilities were somewhat weak, and he couldn't match the sustained combat prowess of a true knight.

"The situation doesn't look good."

After recovering slightly, Linde looked towards the battlefield.

The Icefield Ghost Knight is stronger than I imagined.

If we take ordinary people as the standard for combat strength and set them at level 1, then William, as a knight, would be at level 5.

So this Icefield Ghost is at least level 8.

Even with the weakening effect of the solar winds, it was still beyond their ability to cope.

William is losing ground in the ongoing confrontation.

"A more powerful sword technique is enough for me to cut through the enemy's defenses."

Linde looked at the longsword in his hand.

Currently, his mind is blank, and in terms of combat, the only thing he can effectively utilize is the magic rune of the Whirlwind Slash.

This is a one-handed combat technique using the right hand to wield a sword, prioritizing agility over lethality.

If it could be improved...

Linde gripped his sword with both hands, and inspiration struck him.

"William! Hold that greatsword back for me!"

He shouted and charged toward the Icefield Ghost Knight, each step sending up swirling snowflakes.

William understood immediately. Without much communication, he tacitly wrapped his longsword around the joints of the greatsword on the spine, holding on tightly.

The Icefield Ghost Knight sensed something was wrong and, finding he couldn't draw his greatsword immediately, raised his resilient left hand.

It wanted to grasp Linde's blade in mid-air.

However, in the next instant, the Icefield Ghost Knight's eyes narrowed, sensing the approach of death.

Linde focused intently, raising his knight's sword behind his back, the magical runes of the Whirlwind Slash spreading from his right arm throughout his body.

It was not the original arc-shaped slash, but a large spin attack that swung up from behind.

His body transformed into a spinning windmill, leaping high into the air, wielding his knight's sword, and slashing at his enemy, unleashing a torrent of violent power.

The sword spun wildly, a windmill slash!