In truth, if Count Corbili got along peacefully with them, it would benefit him greatly. They could trade weapons and equipment with him, speeding up his consolidation of the region. As for the fate of the other nobles in the area — what did that have to do with them? What kind of person Count Corbili was had nothing to do with them. They were simply passing through his territory on their way north.
Lorist was won over by Fatty Shi's argument. Bodelfinger also stated that with the family army's strength, they had nothing to fear from those so-called rebel forces. The rebels were hostile to Count Corbili, and as long as they didn't band together against the convoy, the family army was confident it could protect it.
What Lorist hadn't anticipated was running into such savage and brutal enemies. They didn't even bother with questions before attacking the convoy outright, and in the end, they provoked Lorist's fury.
Lorist's convoy was divided into three parts: the vanguard, the main camp, and the rear guard. The vanguard had over a hundred wagons, led by
The main camp had over six hundred wagons — dependents, weapons and equipment, food and fodder were all here.
The rear guard also had over a hundred wagons, with Dolos's war wagon squad and a spearman company bringing up the rear. This was mainly because road conditions were poor, and to prevent accidents, the twelve scorpion wagons were placed in the back. Once the road was compacted by the hundreds of wagons from the two camps ahead, the war wagons could pass through safely. The rear guard's job was to collect stragglers and broken-down vehicles from the two camps ahead. They transported miscellaneous items — loot swept from Viscount Mester's castle, along with the over two hundred people who had been coerced into leaving the castle, who were also placed in the rear guard.
After crossing the mountain range that served as the boundary of Baron Charles's territory, Lorist ordered heightened vigilance. The first day went fairly smoothly — the convoy covered over eighty li — though at night the spearman sentries reported spotting people spying on the wagon camp from a distance. Lorist ordered the crossbowman company to prepare defenses. Anyone who crossed the warning line without heeding the alerts was to be shot on sight. Fortunately, the night passed without incident.
The next day, after the convoy set out, around noon Dolos — serving as the rear guard — sent word that people were following them. Lorist instructed that as long as those following showed no hostility, they were to be ignored and allowed to tag along.
That day the convoy covered over sixty li.
On the third day, the convoy continued onward, passing through an abandoned town along the way — crumbling walls, burned-out houses, and on some walls and the ground, deep black stains from dried, discolored blood. In the grass by wall corners, rotting corpses and white bones could occasionally be seen.
That afternoon, as the main camp's wagon train passed through a stretch of woodland, over a hundred cavalrymen in leather armor brandishing spears suddenly burst from the trees and charged straight at the convoy.
The main camp's six hundred wagons stretched over two to three li. Lorist was at the front when he heard the news, and he immediately rode off with Terman's knight company. When they galloped up a small hill, they witnessed a tragedy unfolding in the distance.
It was the middle section of the convoy. The
Under normal circumstances, the other side would have reined in their galloping mounts, and a leader would come forward to inquire or communicate. After all, the convoy was no enemy of theirs, and there was no reason for a confrontation.
The horsemen slowed. Lorist breathed a sigh of relief and was about to ride over when, without warning, everything changed.
Just as the horsemen were nearly upon the old student, a whistle sounded. Two flying nets were hurled from the group, entangling him tightly and yanking him from his saddle. The hundred-plus horses then trampled straight over his fallen body, crushing him to pulp. The three followers, caught completely off guard, were pierced through by several spears before they could react...
The cavalry erupted in cheers, then burst into the convoy, slashing and killing. The dozen or so spearmen guarding this section were swiftly cut down.
The convoy descended into chaos. Several wagons carrying military dependents collided in the panic, deepening the bedlam. Wailing and screaming filled the air.
The atrocities that followed were the deeds of beasts...
Another cavalryman snatched an infant from a young mother's arms. The mother lunged forward in desperation, trying to get her child back. The cavalryman laughed and tossed the baby to another horseman, who extended his spear and impaled the infant clean through, hoisting it on the spear tip with a roar of laughter, seemingly proud of his throwing accuracy. The baby's cries cut off abruptly. The young mother froze, as if unable to believe what she was seeing. Only when the cavalryman who had taken her baby reached for her did she snap back to reality. With a blood-curdling scream, she grabbed his hand and bit down hard. The cavalryman howled in pain, raised the spear in his right hand, and stabbed the young mother to the ground. Still not satisfied, he rode his horse over her body...
A white-haired old man shielded a small child behind him — his grandson, it seemed. A cavalryman galloped up and pinned them both to the ground with his spear, then drew his sword and rode past. The old man's head flew into the air...
The hundred-strong cavalry rampaged through the convoy, creating a hellscape of horrors...
On the small hill, Lorist's eyes nearly burst from rage. He spurred his horse and charged down the slope, burning with urgency, wishing his mount could sprout wings and fly there instantly.
Lorist left everyone behind in a cloud of dust, leaving Terman and the rest of the knight company far in his wake. Meanwhile, the convoy had rallied — Bodelfinger was mobilizing the defense forces and rushing them over.
Seeing the distance closing, Lorist hurled a javelin. The cavalryman who had been trampling the young mother and the one nearby with the impaled infant on his spear tip were both pinned to the ground, man and horse, before they could even scream.
The cavalryman who had stripped off his pants and was about to violate the struggling girl was struck by a javelin that plucked him clean off her and sent him flying three or four meters, embedding half a foot into the ground. He clutched the javelin that had pierced his chest, writhing on the ground in circles as blood poured from his mouth...
Lorist's mount carried only one quiver of javelins — twelve in all. Twelve javelins, twelve cavalrymen down. The horsemen spotted Lorist, and several rode at him...
Lorist drew his longsword. The first rider — head, horse, and upper body split into four pieces by a single stroke. Blood fountained from the decapitated mount. The bisected cavalryman hit the ground still alive, letting out an inhuman scream, clawing desperately at the earth with both hands...
The second rider was so horrified by the first's fate that he didn't react in time. He and Lorist brushed past each other, and Lorist's blade grazed his neck lightly — his head soared into the air.
The third rider lunged viciously with his spear aimed at Lorist's chest. Lorist's body twisted on the saddle to an impossible angle, the spear grazing his chest and hitting nothing. As the two horses passed each other, a flash of steel — the third cavalryman clutched his eviscerated abdomen and tumbled from his saddle.
The fourth and fifth riders threw two flying nets that landed on Lorist. Delighted, they were about to pull him from his horse when they heard Lorist give a deep shout. An irresistible force surged through the ropes — both ropes were wrapped around their wrists, and the force sent them flying through the air toward Lorist. He had caught the nets and, channeling his internal energy, reversed their pull to drag them toward him.
The spear that the third rider had thrust past Lorist's chest hadn't even hit the ground yet. Lorist hooked it with his right foot out of the stirrup as it fell. The spear flew upward, and Lorist caught it in his left hand and thrust it straight through, skewering the fourth and fifth riders in midair like gourds on a string...
In the blink of an eye, five riders were dead. Only then did the cavalry realize they were dealing with a true killer. The lead rider whistled, and several dozen horsemen circled around but kept their distance, relying on their spears' reach to compensate for Lorist's shorter sword. They galloped around him in a ring, thrusting with their spears in a flurry, forcing Lorist to defend on all sides as he was beset by the encirclement...
The thunder of hooves — Terman and the knight company arrived, crashing into the cavalry surrounding Lorist. In the first exchange, over twenty riders were speared from their saddles. The knight company members, protected by their full plate armor, suffered only two minor injuries. Lorist seized a spear in the chaos and, with a combination of thrusts and stabs, sent several more cavalrymen to their graves.
Of the hundred-plus horsemen, only sixty or seventy remained. Seeing the ferocious charge of Lorist and Terman's forces, they began to mass together to resist. Terman and the knight company members were already consumed with rage from the atrocities they'd witnessed in the convoy. With red eyes and full plate armor, they crashed through, soon scattering the attackers to the winds. Lorist now wielded a sword in his left hand and a spear in his right, charging wherever the cavalry was thickest. His killing intent blazed, and his blows fell with terrible viciousness — another ten or so cavalrymen fell to his sword and spear.
Human screams and horse cries mingled together, and before long the cavalry collapsed. They hadn't expected the convoy's fighting force to be this powerful. In such a short time, sixty or seventy had been reduced to twenty or thirty. Shaken to the core, the surviving horsemen realized they had charged into an iron wall and turned to flee. Yuri's light cavalry scouts were already sweeping around from the outer perimeter, while Reidi and Pat rode in with several spare horses behind Fatty Shi to reinforce.
Lorist, his face grim, dismounted, selected one of the spare horses Reidi had brought, and leaped on. As he wheeled the horse around, he called out to Fatty Shi: "You handle the cleanup here. Have Terman's knight company assist you."
Fatty Shi asked: "Where are you going?"
Lorist pointed at the retreating backs of the twenty or thirty fleeing horsemen, his killing intent laid bare: "Chase them down and slaughter every last one! Even if I have to chase them to the ends of the earth, I'll kill every last one of these beasts."
Fatty Shi cursed at Reidi and Pat: "What are you two standing there gawking for! Get after him — bring extra horses, extra javelins! And call Yuri's light cavalry to follow and provide backup!"
...
Lorist didn't need to chase them to the ends of the earth. In less than half an hour, the fleeing horsemen ahead began to slow. Their mounts were spent — they could maintain a steady trot, but spurring them to a gallop was beyond them now.
Lorist's freshly swapped mount was full of stamina, and the gap between him and the fleeing horsemen was closing steadily...
A few riders at the back turned to face him with leveled spears — perhaps a last act of desperation, perhaps because they hadn't clashed with Lorist back at the convoy and didn't know his power.
Lorist's new mount carried two quivers of javelins on its back, but he didn't want to use them. He felt that javelins would give these beasts too quick and painless a death. The image of the white-haired old man's head spinning through the air, the young mother in her despair, the infant impaled on the spear tip, and the sprawled corpses throughout the convoy all flashed before his eyes. Lorist's eyes turned red. Now these fleeing beasts' horses were faltering — they couldn't get far. He had plenty of patience. He would make these two-legged beasts regret ever having been born into this world...
"Aaagh!" The first cavalryman's hands flew into the air. He tumbled from his horse and thrashed on the ground, screaming and writhing. Lorist carefully guided his mount to jump over the fallen man's body, careful not to step on him — he wouldn't grant him such a quick end.
"Oww!" The second rider's spear was knocked aside by Lorist's head-on thrust. Then Lorist's spear pierced through his abdomen, lifting him from the saddle. Lorist carefully kept him from sliding off the spear, then drove it into the ground, leaving him hanging on it to continue his agonized screaming...
Two riders attacked from either side. Two spears struck simultaneously like vipers from their holes, aimed at Lorist. In the blink of an eye, Lorist vanished from the saddle. Both spears hit empty air. The two riders assumed he'd fallen and leaned down to look — then a shadow flickered, and Lorist reappeared on his horse. Cold light flared. The rider on the left was cut in half at the waist. In the midst of his screaming, the rider on the right let out an even more piercing shriek — his legs had been severed, and the horse beneath him was also cleaved in two. The spraying blood drenched both Lorist and his mount, turning them into a man and horse of crimson.
The fifth rider dropped his spear to the ground. He sat frozen on his horse, hands clasped together, muttering pleas for mercy. Lorist's expression didn't change. He leaned down from the saddle, picked up a spear, and rode forward. Reaching the fifth rider, he drove the spear straight through the man's mouth and out the back of his skull. If you beg for mercy, I'll grant you a quick death. The fifth rider's corpse tumbled from his horse.
The sixth rider had been terrified the moment Lorist cut the two who attacked together each in half. He wheeled his horse around to flee again, but his mount was slower and slower, nearly reduced to a walk. He soon realized that at some point Lorist had pulled up alongside him — or rather, side by side at a walk. Lorist even grinned at him, his blood-caked face split by two rows of white teeth in a smile so grotesque it was terrifying. The cavalryman's soul nearly left his body. Without thinking, he thrust his spear at Lorist.
Lorist caught the spear in his hand, and the cavalryman was pulled toward him. Lorist tapped the back of his skull with the sword hilt, and the man went limp, slumping against Lorist's saddle. Lorist grabbed the flying net from the back of the cavalryman's horse, tied a slip knot around the man's neck with the rope, then tossed him behind the horse and dragged him along in pursuit of the dozen or so fleeing two-legged beasts ahead.
Whenever a fleeing rider fell behind and was caught, Lorist always used various cruel methods to torment him — making him wish for death but unable to find it. The ghastly fate of these stragglers drove the ones ahead to flee even harder. Some even stabbed their horses in the rump with knives, goading the mounts to squeeze out their last reserves of speed in a desperate bid to escape.
The rider ahead sat collapsed beside his dead mount, a short blade still embedded in the horse's rump, the blood half-dried. The horse had clearly exhausted its last strength and died.
Lorist rode up slowly. The cavalryman he was dragging behind was long beyond dead — reduced to a mangled corpse from being dragged along the road. Lorist wore a smile on his face, but in his mind he was contemplating what method to use on this next rider. He harbored nothing but bottomless hatred for these cavalrymen. Not the slightest trace of mercy for these two-legged beasts.
Seeing Lorist close in, the cavalryman's face filled with despair. Looking at Lorist's bloodshot eyes, he knew he could not survive. He shouted a string of curses at Lorist, then clenched his teeth, reversed his spear, and drove it into his own chest.
Damn — even trying to commit suicide. Lorist cut the dying cavalryman in half with a single stroke and spurred his horse onward.
Rounding the small grove ahead, Lorist saw a military camp at the foot of the distant hill. The seven or eight fleeing riders ahead seemed to find a sudden burst of energy, shouting at the top of their lungs as they spurred their horses toward the camp, stabbing their blades into their mounts' rumps again and again...
None of you will escape. Lorist spurred his own mount faster, closing in from behind at a furious pace...