Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

"Goblins?"

Gazing at the figures emerging from the dense woods, Roland couldn’t help but frown deeply.

The creatures had long, pointed ears, protruding fangs, and ugly, ferocious faces.

The only difference from what he remembered was that these goblins’ normally green skin was covered in strange, crimson patterns.

Although goblins were said to be the lowest-ranking Demons, their strength even a notch below Kobolds, Roland didn’t dare to be careless in the slightest.

The bloodthirsty glint shining in their triangular eyes was a stark contrast to their rumored cowardly and timid nature.

What was even more unsettling was...

"More than ten... no... that’s not right!"

As more and more goblins emerged from the forest, Roland couldn’t help but tighten his grip on his sword hilt, his knuckles turning slightly white.

It wasn’t that he was afraid.

With his current strength, he could slay ordinary Kobolds with ease, so naturally, he wouldn’t fear these even smaller goblins.

But a huge disparity in numbers could often make up for a lack of individual strength.

After all, he was only flesh and blood; his stamina would eventually run out.

At this thought, Roland subtly glanced around, secretly looking for an escape route as he began to speak.

"Young Master Dalko, something’s not right. We should prepare to flee—"

"Heh! So it’s just these Green Skin bastards!"

But Dalko didn’t listen to Roland’s cautious advice, merely licking his lips in excitement.

"Roland, have you ever run into goblins before? This is my first time seeing them outside of a book."

Dalko gripped his sword hilt, his body tensing, eager for a fight.

"I heard from the manor Guards that on the Adventurer’s Guild’s bounty list, the ears of these mongrels are worth Eight Copper Coins each."

"Not only that, but if you hunt enough of them, you’ll win the cheers of everyone present..."

As if imagining the scene of being surrounded by a crowd adoring him for his martial prowess, a Flame seemed to ignite in the young noble’s eyes.

"Don’t be rash, Young Master Dalko."

Looking at the goblins forming a simple line and slowly pressing forward, Roland reminded him in a low voice.

But Dalko just grinned, not caring in the least.

In his eyes, these half-man-high Green Skin Demons weren’t even as dangerous as the wild wolves he’d hunted before.

"They’re just goblins. What’s there to be afraid of? Watch me!"

Before the words were out of his mouth, he ignored Roland’s attempt to stop him and charged forward, drawing his sword. The silver blade carved a sharp arc through the sunlight.

The goblin at the very front, holding a rusty Short Knife, didn’t even have time to parry before its head flew high into the air, spewing filthy blood.

"Exhilarating!"

Dalko paid no mind to the blood splashing onto his face. After a triumphant grunt, he didn’t stop, continuing his forward charge.

His Sword Momentum was broad and sweeping. Each strike carried a noble’s unique elegance and precision. Wherever his blade passed, goblins wielding crude wooden clubs fell, wailing in agony.

But Roland had spotted the young noble’s fatal weakness.

Dalko’s Swordsmanship was indeed exquisite, and his Power was far beyond that of an ordinary person, but his movements were too textbook, even a bit rigid. He clearly lacked much real combat experience.

The angle of every sword swing, the movement of every step—it was as if he were strictly following a Swordsmanship manual, completely lacking the flexibility to adapt to the enemy.

Just as Dalko had cut down five or six goblins in a row and plunged deep into the enemy’s formation, three goblins suddenly attacked from different directions at once.

They coordinated seamlessly. One feinted with a frontal attack, swinging a wooden club studded with iron nails, while the other two simultaneously thrust with rusty Short Spears from the left and right.

Dalko hastily brought his sword back to block the frontal attack, but the flanking assaults caught him off guard.

Though he managed to dodge, his left arm was still slashed open.

"Damn mongrels!"

He cursed through gritted teeth. Just as he was about to counterattack, he found that five more goblins had surrounded him in a semicircle.

They bared their fangs, their eyes glinting with cunning light.

In the nick of time, a dark figure suddenly cut into the battlefield.

"Get back!"

Roland’s sharp command exploded beside his ear.

Dalko instinctively took half a step back. In the next second, Roland’s sword swept through like a gale.

There were no flashy moves, only the most direct slashes and thrusts.

The first strike severed the wrist of the goblin on the left. The second pierced the throat of the attacker on the right. The third, a horizontal slash, cut the enemy charging from the front in half at the waist.

"Such... incredible Swordsmanship..."

Dalko’s eyes widened.

This kind of Swordsmanship, born purely for killing, was completely different from the Noble Swordsmanship he had learned.

Roland didn’t pause, his voice grave.

"Don’t just stand there! They’re closing in on us!"

Only then did Dalko notice that the remaining goblins had changed their formation.

They had spread out. Some climbed to the treetops to throw stones, others circled around to the rear to cut off their retreat, and the five strongest ones advanced slowly, holding all sorts of crude weapons.

"These beasts... actually know how to use tactics?"

Dalko gripped his sword hilt and swore in disbelief.

"Keep moving! Break out to the rear left!"

As Roland spoke, he suddenly lunged forward, his blade sinking precisely into a goblin’s eye socket.

"Prioritize the ones with Throwing Weapons!"

The two of them stood back-to-back and began to move in a rotating pattern.

Dalko had learned his lesson this time. He no longer sought a perfect sword stance, instead imitating Roland’s practical combat techniques.

Though he was a bit clumsy, it was more than enough to deal with the unskilled goblins.

His immense strength, combined with the simplified moves, became even more lethal. Each swing of his sword could cleave a goblin and its weapon in two.

Meanwhile, Roland’s Lion Swordsmanship was being displayed to its fullest in the battle.

Whenever golden characters appeared in his vision, he felt his understanding of Lion Swordsmanship deepen by another level. The Iron Sword felt as if it had fused with his arm, moving effortlessly at his command.

As blood splattered, the battle grew more intense.

When the goblins realized their conventional tactics weren’t working, they began to charge forward recklessly without any semblance of order.

"Damn it!"

After swearing, Dalko fought through the stabbing pain from the wound on his arm, swinging his Iron Sword with all his might.

However, the constantly seeping blood made his movements increasingly sluggish, and he gradually found it difficult to fend off the goblins’ ever-fiercer attacks.

Roland keenly sensed the young noble’s predicament. He had no choice but to deal with the enemies in front of him while also diverting some of his attention to block fatal attacks for Dalko.

The tide of battle, which they had dominated, was now turning against them at a visible rate.

At that moment, a goblin that had been throwing stones from a tree suddenly dropped down, a rusty Dagger aimed straight for the back of Dalko’s neck.

"Above you!"

Roland roared, backhanding the Dagger from Dalko’s belt and throwing it with all his strength, accurately piercing the ambusher’s throat.

Seeing the goblin corpse fall in front of him, Dalko broke out in a cold sweat.

"Thanks, Roland! Your skills are just..."

"Save the praise for later!"

Roland cut him off, pointing to the dozen or so goblins clustered together on their escape route.

These creatures had actually formed a shield wall. Several held Broken Wooden Shields in the front, while those behind thrust Long Spears through the gaps.

Although the formation was crude, it was extremely effective against enemies like Roland and Dalko, who were heavily surrounded and few in number.

"We can’t let them solidify their formation!"

Faced with this situation, Roland no longer cared about their difference in status and shouted.

"Dalko, stay close to me!"

With that, he suddenly accelerated into a sprint. Just as he was about to hit the shield wall, he abruptly changed direction, precisely finding a flaw in the formation.

His Longsword swept in from the side, slicing through the outermost goblin, shield and all.

The moment the gap opened, Dalko understood. He roared and charged into the formation, his Iron Sword swinging like a windmill, instantly crushing the goblins before him.

Then, with a turn of his blade, he accurately pierced another goblin’s chest.

As he watched the Green Skin monster twitching in agony before him, Dalko was about to laugh heartily, but he saw the dying goblin suddenly let out a shrill screech, its blood-soaked claws gripping his sharp blade tightly and refusing to let go.

"Wh-what?"

Dalko was stunned for a moment, instinctively trying to yank his sword free.

In that split second of hesitation, another goblin at his feet, one that had been nearly cut in two, used its last ounce of ferocity to thrust out the Short Spear in its hand.

The rust-covered Short Spear glinted coldly in the sunlight.

Then it plunged deep into Dalko’s calf, sending a spray of blood into the air.

"Aaargh!"

With a blood-curdling howl, Dalko endured the pain and beheaded that goblin, then collapsed to his knees in agony, his forehead instantly covered in beads of cold sweat.

"Dammit!"

Seeing this, Roland precisely thrust his Longsword into the throat of the goblin before him, then turned and forcefully helped Dalko to his feet.

"Can you still walk?"

"Bare... barely..."

"Tch..."

Watching the endless stream of goblins pouring out of the dense woods, Roland clicked his tongue and frowned.

He unhesitatingly pulled the Short Spear from Dalko’s calf and quickly tore off the hem of his own clothes.

Taking advantage of the gap before the distant goblins could close in, he deftly bandaged Dalko’s wound, then gave him a hard shove backward.

"Run! Don’t look back!"

"But... Roland..."

Dalko stared at the slender back of the young man, who was a few years younger than himself, and was momentarily at a loss.

His lips trembled, and he finally gritted his teeth.

"Forget about me! You should save yourself!"

"Cut the crap!"

Roland had already taken out his Bow and Arrow, shouting as he nocked an arrow and drew the string.

"Go get help from the Guards!"

Dalko still wanted to argue, but after seeing the resolve in Roland’s eyes, the young noble could only shout hoarsely.

"Roland! You have to stay alive until I get back!"

With that, he stumbled away and disappeared deep into the jungle.

After confirming Dalko’s safe retreat, Roland let out a long sigh of relief.

If it had been anyone else, he would have escaped on his own the moment the fight began.

After all, besides the time the original owner of his body spent as a Horse Boy, he had only known the young noble for half a day—far from a friendship worth dying for.

But Dalko was Baron Fosling’s only son.

If the young noble died while he himself survived, even with Hawke’s protection, he probably couldn’t escape Baron Fosling’s wrath.

Of course, Roland had no real intention of sacrificing his life to cover the retreat.

In fact, without Dalko weighing him down, these short Green Skin Demons were not enough of a threat to him at all.

Even if their numbers were indeed staggering.

Gazing at the swarming green tide, Roland closed his eyes and focused his mind.

When he opened them again, the world seemed to have slowed to a crawl.

[Concentration] Trait, activate!