Knight: Becoming King of the World

Vasco and his men’s first target was Mace, who had pushed deeper and deeper into the enemy lines. Henry had given orders to protect his life.

Dozens of elite Senior Infantry rallied around Henry. Clad in triple-layered heavy armor and wielding iron warhammers with Iron Shields, they charged ferociously in his wake.

It couldn’t be helped. They had acquired plenty of spoils, and after a little abuse of his authority, he had embezzled some for his men. Besides, Henry still had half a warehouse of Half-Beastman iron armor that hadn’t been melted down, providing more than enough gear to equip his elite Heavy Armor Soldiers.

Henry’s hands, encased in aristocratic gauntlets, tightly gripped his greatsword, its blade glinting coldly.

’A giant axe is satisfying, but it’s too exhausting. For true efficiency, a Two-Handed Greatsword is still the way to go.’

Henry led his infantry in a charge against the Gnolls. They fell upon the enemy ranks like a hunting pride of lions, and Henry, swinging his greatsword, plunged into their formation.

The terrified Gnolls stared at this human, who fought like a Half-Beastman, and hastily raised their weapons to defend themselves.

Henry locked eyes with the Gnoll directly in front of him. His greatsword carved an arc through the air, viciously slashing at the creature’s neck.

SCHLICK!

A Gnoll’s head went spiraling from its shoulders and thudded heavily onto the ground.

The Senior Infantry were no slouches, either. Sticking close to Henry, they dealt fatal blows to the Gnolls with their hammers.

Under Henry’s lead, the infantry acted as a sharp blade, tearing an opening in the Gnoll formation.

The battered serfs breathed a sigh of relief and regrouped into a dense formation. They had been completely unable to withstand the Gnolls’ charge, which had shattered their spear wall and allowed the creatures to rush in for the slaughter.

War cries and the clang of weapons filled the air. In the midst of this chaos, Henry and his infantry were in their element. Their ferocity and fearlessness struck terror into the Gnolls.

In the past, Half-Beastmen had only encountered such elite troops when facing massive human armies.

After some time, Henry successfully routed the Gnolls and secured their victory. Any Gnolls that tried to flee were cut down by the bows and scimitars of the Grassland Warriors.

"Clear the battlefield! Quickly!"

Henry grew worried. ’We’ve been hit by two waves of attacks in such a short time. We’ve lost many serfs, and most of the soldiers are exhausted after two straight fights.’

’We have to pull back now, or push through this forest as fast as possible.’

Fass’s Crossbowmen and serfs were growing anxious. Their lord still hadn’t returned, so they had no choice but to obediently help clear the battlefield under Henry’s command.

"Bain, are you injured?"

"No, I’m fine. Milord, should I go look for Knight Fass?"

After a few seconds of thought, Henry nodded. "Alright. Go, but be quick. If you run into any trouble, come back immediately."

Bain had just left with a dozen Grassland Warriors when Claude reported, "Milord, we’ve collected a large number of Gnoll heads this time. There are at least four hundred presentable ones."

"Good. Take the Gnolls’ shields and any other usable gear and give it to the serfs. Get them armed."

The Empire’s armies operated this way: at the start, serfs were only issued a long wooden spear or had to make do with tools like hoes and sickles. But if they captured spoils in battle, their equipment was immediately upgraded to prepare them for the next fight.

"Henry! Henry!"

Just as Henry was anxiously waiting for Bain, a series of shouts and the thundering of hooves came from the north. The voice sounded like Fass.

Henry turned to look and saw Fass’s horse and armor splattered with blood. He was also missing some of his men. Bain and the others were returning with him.

"Fass, you scared me to death! I thought you’d been ambushed and killed by Half-Beastmen. If that had happened, Boman would never have spoken to me again."

Fass swung himself off his horse, took a waterskin from one of his Crossbowman sergeants, and started guzzling it down. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG.

"Phew! Henry, I was indeed ambushed, but the Gnolls didn’t succeed.

On my way there, I ran into a Gnoll army. Bain told me you won, as always. Henry, I’m proud of you.

I lured a portion of them away and killed them. On top of that, I found another unit."

Fass took a few more sips of water, a strange expression on his face. "There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

"Fass, don’t make me kick your ass. Spit it out."

"Alright, alright. The bad news is that the commander of that noble’s army was Viscount Ivar Roningen. He’s dead. That’s not a good sign.

I examined the scene of the battle. There were a huge number of Gnoll corpses. There might be surviving Imperial soldiers, but I couldn’t find any.

The good news is that his supply train, all his military equipment and armor, and even the Gnoll heads and weapons, are now an unclaimed treasure trove."

’What are we waiting for?’ Henry thought. There was no time to mourn an Imperial Viscount’s death. Right now, he had to go and ’collect the Viscount’s bones!’

"Did you scout it out? We can’t go over there only to find more Gnolls waiting. The soldiers are already exhausted."

"Don’t worry. I knew you would defeat that pack of Gnolls. And I’ve just scouted the new location with extreme care."

Now the men had a new objective. Instead of retreating or advancing, they would first go and scavenge the spoils.

Fass led the way. When they arrived, they saw exactly what he had described: scattered supplies and a great number of corpses, both Imperial soldiers and Gnolls.

Henry ordered his soldiers to quickly gather any usable materials while the Cavalry fanned out to keep watch. Meanwhile, he and Fass personally searched for the Viscount.

Finally, they found the Viscount’s body next to a destroyed carriage.

"What should we do? Take him with us?"

"I can’t be certain this is the Viscount."

Hearing Henry’s reply, Fass gave a knowing smile. Henry had the serfs quickly dig a pit and bury the body. It was the greatest dignity they could offer the Viscount.

After clearing the battlefield, Henry led the column onward. He, Fass, and Mace conferred and agreed that there was still enough daylight to cross the forest before making camp.

After about six hours, the sun had already begun to slowly set, and the group finally emerged from the forest. Fortunately, they encountered no further incidents along the way; Henry’s Grassland Warriors even managed to hunt a few rabbits.

The serfs got to work making camp. Hundreds of wagons were arranged into a defensive wall, archers patrolled the perimeter, and the Cavalry formed scouting parties to probe the surrounding area.

Henry’s tent was the first to be erected. The three leaders were already inside, sitting around a stove for warmth and preparing to eat.

"Mace, you’re a fierce warrior. It’s no shame to have lost to you once in the grand tournament."

Mace’s composure suddenly broke. His face flushed red as he launched into an explanation, insisting it had all been his father’s doing and that he could have won on his own.

Henry and Fass exchanged a look and burst out laughing.