The Third Son of a Medieval Knight Family Chapter 99 - Knight of Ascension (34)

Ibuti glared coldly ahead.

Their movements were far more agile than expected.

Speed incomparable to other principality armies.

“Arrogant bastards. I can tell where they stole those from.”

As Ibuti muttered to himself while gripping his weapon tighter, what made him angrier than seeing the worthless principality scum showing off on horseback were the warriors in steppe attire naturally forming ranks among them.

“Stupid bastards.”

As crude curses spilled from his mouth, the man who had been standing quietly beside him spoke.

“Well then, I’ll begin my flanking maneuver from here.”

“…I’m grateful for the cooperation, Lord Vashi.”

“There’s no need to move separately and make things complicated. Fighting together would be more advantageous too. Just don’t touch my prey.”

“Don’t worry. Besides, that’s rather what I should be saying.”

“…Hmph.”

Vashi snorted lightly and silently turned his horse’s head.

Though he gave no shouts or orders, watching the warriors turn their horses in unison following their lord, Ibuti felt inexplicable chills and shook his head vigorously.

‘Sinister bastards.’

The warriors Vashi had selected to his taste were all silent.

However, this didn’t diminish their ferocity and cruelty in the slightest.

Warriors of terror who silently enjoyed tearing apart and torturing enemies.

Having worked together with Vashi’s notorious guards, Ibuti could newly understand why they had gained such a reputation.

Though he too prided himself on being a fierce and cruel excellent steppe warrior, he was relatively lenient compared to Vashi and his subordinates.

‘Still, if they’re allies rather than enemies, they’re extremely reliable.’

Ibuti shook off his thoughts and shouted loudly.

Though the enemies’ surprisingly agile response prevented him from fully exploiting the element of surprise, it didn’t matter.

“Let’s show those fakes the true terror of steppe cavalry! Slaughter the principality trash!”

“Waaaaaah!”

“Kill them! Kill them!”

The rough elites entrusted by the Grand Chief began charging toward the enemies, kicking up dust.

Even through the swirling dust storm, only Ibuti’s gleaming eyes remained distinctly clear.

“Viktor Kobarov!”

His grinding voice echoed loudly.

---

A black wave.

That was the only way to describe the sight.

Watching the groups splitting off for the flanking maneuvers the barbarians favored, Lukovich tightened his grip on the pommel.

The speed of those approaching from the flank without any attempt to hide their approach was far faster than expected.

‘Compared to those we faced at the supply base…’

A drop of cold sweat ran down Lukovich’s face.

The barbarians they had faced at the supply base had possessed horsemanship that seemed miraculous from his perspective.

How amazed he had been by the thunderous unified hoofbeats that sounded like a single giant horse running, even as they all galloped in unison.

But these were beyond that.

At first glance they seemed to be galloping leisurely and carelessly, but their speed felt incongruously fast compared to their appearance.

There was no rough howling to seize the initiative, no threatening shots, yet the eerily felt pressure was no joke.

Black warhorses, black armor, indifferent expressions.

The unease these individual elements combined to give their opponents exceeded expectations.

It wasn’t just Lukovich who felt this way, as those who had turned to face the splitting enemies began murmuring continuously.

“Fire!”

Just as a large banner waved from the center, Knight Krupin, who had stepped forward to command them, shouted.

As the order fell and banners waved here and there, the dismounted mercenaries all drew their crossbows in unison.

Thwing!

Arrows poured out all at once, but the enemy response was calm.

Naturally splitting their formation to gracefully avoid the arrow rain, the enemies regrouped and charged in unison again.

“Urgh…!”

Though some personnel rolled off their horses or groaned, they only spurred their horses faster with expressionless faces as if they didn’t care.

At that sight, not only the mercenaries but even the converted barbarian warriors showed pallid expressions.

“Shit… is that the Grand Chief’s army we’ve only heard about…”

“Crazy bastards. Did you see? Arrows falling right in front of them and they don’t even flinch?”

“Shut up!!”

Gulp.

When Krupin suddenly shouted with veins bulging in his neck, the mercenaries and warriors who had been chattering flinched and turned their heads toward him.

“Don’t be scared! You speak so casually to Sir Viktor without any fear, yet you tremble before mere black barbarian bastards – does that make sense?!”

At Krupin’s words, the mercenaries and warriors couldn’t help but smile.

The young knight, who was more authoritative and rank-conscious than any other knight in the vanguard, continued shouting without looking at them.

“I dislike lowly bastards like you! I deeply regret having to fight alongside you scum who dare speak vulgarly to the respected Sir Viktor! But! At least I, Krupin, acknowledge your guts! Don’t cower and fight back! Are those barbarian bastards scarier than Sir Viktor?!”

“No sir!”

“Then show your spirit! Show those black beetle-like bastards clearly that you’re not mere mercenary rabble or barbarian trash, but Sir Viktor’s proud vanguard!”

“Hahaha! Honestly, I didn’t like the knight much because of his nasty temper, but today he speaks correctly!”

When one warrior burst into hearty laughter, Krupin’s killing intent exploded.

“Show proper respect when speaking to me! If you don’t want to be whipped for insubordination, shut up and pay attention to those bastards in front!”

At his words the mercenaries flinched, but the warriors didn’t care at all and just kept bursting into laughter.

“Now that I see it, the knight has quite spirited aspects. I feel a bit sorry for cursing him as an arrogant principality knight.”

“Mm, I see him differently now. Certainly compared to Sir Viktor, those bastards are nothing.”

“I told you to shut up!”

Watching this scene, Lukovich smiled bitterly.

Viktor hadn’t entrusted Krupin with command of this aspect for no reason.

Though Mikhail was appropriately supporting from behind, regardless of what anyone said, Krupin possessed not only knightly skill but also command qualities.

‘Whew… then.’

Looking at the enemies who had approached almost right up to them, he raised his sword.

Despite their emotionless-looking faces, their cruelly glinting eyes stimulated fear, but Lukovich no longer flinched.

Now not just as a servant, but as a proper knight’s squire.

Though he was a bit old for a squire, and strictly speaking it was a dual role.

Lukovich had already taken on the complete appearance of a warrior.

“Raise shields!!”

Those who had been standing fixed like stakes raised large shields, and crossbows appeared behind them.

Once those crossbows fired and the enemy cavalry charged in, the cavalry waiting in the rear would strike their flanks again.

“Fire!”

Almost simultaneously with the arrows being fired, the black wave crashed into the group.

Watching the sounds of breaking and snapping, screams, and flesh scattering, Lukovich pressed his helmet down deeply.

All noise became dully distant, and only his rough breathing seemed to echo loudly.

And finally, when Krupin’s faint shouts could be heard and banners waved, Lukovich began galloping his horse valiantly.

---

Viktor briefly turned his head to look behind.

Taking one’s eyes off the enemy while charging was extremely dangerous, but he didn’t particularly care.

The sight of the forces he’d left behind struggling against the enemies flanking to strike their side came clearly into view.

“Die!”

A spear flew swiftly as if finding an opening, but Viktor grabbed it without looking and lifted it up.

“Huh, huhhh?”

When he threw it in that state, the barbarian warrior who went flying high into the sky crashed down making bizarre sounds.

‘I can only hope they hold out well.’

Viktor turned his head back.

How quickly he could clean up here would be the key to victory.

Though Viktor had devised strategy based on information from scouts, honestly there were many sloppy parts.

This was because the enemies had begun charging with tremendous momentum without giving him time.

Even after coming all this way, watching the enemies split instantly without showing any signs of fatigue, Viktor divided his forces.

He deployed the left wing and center, mainly composed of mercenaries and knights, to face the enemies charging to strike their flanks.

And the right wing, mostly composed of steppe warriors, he personally led to charge against the enemy’s main force.

Since the enemies also charged without delay, all around was truly filled with horse cries.

Viktor swung his axe continuously with a calm expression.

Barbarian cavalry were torn apart by the axe, spraying blood and flesh in all directions, but the dust was so thick it was difficult to create visual terror.

Viktor frowned slightly.

The results of the head-on charge were less satisfactory than expected.

The strategy of breaking through the enemy formation in wedge formation was offset by their flexible and quick response.

After that, there was only combat relying purely on individual skill.

The dust storm that covered the battlefield as horses ran wild limited visibility and made command very difficult.

“Calm down!”

“Urgh… I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t rampage carelessly and advance while controlling your surroundings. Others may not, but you must.”

“Yes, understood!”

Moreover, the steppe warriors were more vulnerable to battle excitement than the mercenaries.

Watching even Tumen, who at least had somewhat cool aspects and had been given the position of commander, excitedly try to charge out on his own, Viktor sighed.

This battle was the highest difficulty among the battles he had commanded.

‘Kulak is… at least doing well.’

The reason complete chaos couldn’t be established against the Grand Chief’s elites was solely because Kulak, an experienced warrior, was managing his subordinates well.

Viktor swung his axe again to separate two men’s necks from their torsos and hardened his resolve.

‘I’m ashamed to say it, but commanding any further is beyond me. Then the best I can do is…’

Viktor’s eyes gleamed fiercely.

Momentum rose from his entire body, and creaking sounds flowed from the tightly gripped axe handle.

On the noisy and chaotic battlefield.

In this hellish place where blood splattered and it was difficult to easily distinguish who was enemy and who was ally, Viktor decided to do what he was most confident in.

A thunderous war cry echoed from his mouth.

“The principality’s vanguard, Viktor Kobarov is here! Anyone who wants to face me, step forward!”

When he spurred his horse, overwhelming momentum overflowed.

As if a vortex had formed, the dust storm surrounded him, and at that deadly aura, enemies looked at Viktor with frightened expressions.

He swung his axe with all his might.

Crash! Crack!

When he sent one warrior flying with his axe, the warrior flew backwards with a sound like hitting a flying stone with a club, smashing the surroundings.

Watching the warrior with broken limbs vomit blood and die, an eerie gleam appeared in Viktor’s eyes.

Swish!

He caught a javelin that flew accurately toward him with one hand.

“I’ve been counting the days until I could meet you again, Viktor!”

A man standing majestically on horseback with a fierce smile.

Viktor looked silently at him for a moment, feeling the spirit emanating from his opponent, then slowly opened his mouth.

“…I’ve seen that face somewhere before.”

Veins bulged at the man’s temples.

“Ho… your skill at provocation keeps improving. Will your memory return once your heart is ripped out and your limbs are severed?”

“Your tongue is long. Aren’t you going to attack?”

“…Viktorrr!!”

The man charged his horse madly and swung his weapon.

As the long-handled scimitar aimed straight for Podaga’s head, Viktor swung his battle axe while standing in place.

“…Ha!”

Looking at the axe blade flying like striking a sword guard, the man rolled his body with a war cry.

The technique of flipping his body on horseback.

Viktor’s axe cut through empty air, and the man who appeared from behind while straightening his body let out a fierce laugh.

“Die, Viktor!”

“Why do you keep calling my name?”

“This damn bastard!”

A perfectly timed attack exploiting an opening.

The man’s face, who had tried to strike the defenseless back of the head, quickly contorted.

The axe flew backwards against gravity as if forced, striking his weapon.

The man’s grip was torn apart, the scimitar shattered scattering fragments.

One fragment grazed the man’s head, and his tied hair came loose, disheveled hair flying about.

Viktor rode a bit forward and turned his horse’s head.

Then he spoke to the man who was glaring at him while tightly gripping his bleeding hands.

“That technique… I wondered where I’d seen it. Was it the warrior I met at Permikoff?”

“…Do you remember now? Arrogant bastard.”

“Right, I definitely said this to you. If you want me to remember your name, it would be good to display more valor.”

“Don’t act arrogant, Viktor. You die here today!”

The man, Ibuti, briefly shook his hands then drew another weapon.

He intended to settle things here no matter what.

Viktor also aimed his axe with a calm face.

A strong wind blew.

Dust swirled fiercely and swept between the two men.

And after one breath and a half.

Swish!

The two men clashed again.