Chapter 343: Death Shikeng - Duel

Jier and the Militia closely pursued the Bandits, attempting to force them near the Shikeng. The surrounding area consisted of slopes with a gentle incline, and only at the Shikeng ahead could these Bandits be blocked.

The two groups, one chasing and one fleeing, came to a stop after a short while.

The Militia followed closely behind the Bandits, giving them no chance to split up or turn, until the Bandits were left with nothing before them but a massive pit, and the white snow at the bottom of the pit.

Yet beneath the white snow lay the faint outlines of corpses filling the bottom of the pit.

As a large number of Humans approached this place, these corpses, which had barely moved due to the low temperature and snowfall, gradually began to vibrate.

Gaunt, fleshless arms stretched out from the accumulated snow.

Human legs, stripped of flesh with tendons gnawed through, began to twitch straight up.

Accompanied by "Woo, woo, woo" groans, rotting heads with hollow eye sockets burrowed out from the snow, their mouths opening and closing to emit a longing for life.

In the Forest by the Shikeng, a flock of large, thick-feathered crows had gathered at some unknown time; their small, blood-red eyes sized up the food supply in the Shikeng and greedily watched the Humans about to engage in slaughter.

"Caw! Caw!"

"Caw! Caw! Caw!"

"Caw."

The crows communicated with their annoying calls, seemingly satisfied with the potential feast to come.

The Bandits stopped at the edge of the Shikeng; a dead end in front, and the surrounding Militia behind.

They gripped their respective weapons tightly, held them high above their heads, and cursed the Militia and everything they saw without pause.

Duan Tou Zhe Delang tightened his Metal Ring Armor, stroked the child's hair, silently pushed aside the Bandits blocking his path, and turned to walk out.

He saw that over a dozen Militia had finished drawing their Crossbows, the deadly bolts already aimed at them from afar; if they resisted, they would certainly all be shot dead here.

Escape was impossible.

Ever since they were ambushed by the Militia earlier, he had known that it was impossible for them to escape.

Even if they abandoned the women and children, Bandits without sufficient supplies could not possibly cope with the harsh, cold winter.

Even if the last few of them successfully escaped the Militia's pursuit, the end result would only be slaughtering each other for a tiny bit of food later on.

It was all the same.

Looking at it now, when the Militia attacked their lair, leading everyone to flee might have offered a hope of escape. But he and his companions had been too confident in the Bandits under their command.

Perhaps they had also overestimated themselves.

"Drop your weapons! Surrender!" the Captain of the Mountain Leopard Team roared while holding his Crossbow.

The Bandits were somewhat chaotic, and it seemed some had the intention to surrender. But everyone could see that the tall, armored Bandit leading them—presumably the Bandit Leader—had not yet expressed an opinion, so those who might have wanted to surrender did not truly do so.

"You! The Bandit with the Double-edged Battle Axe! Lead your men to surrender! Otherwise, we will loose our arrows! By then, all of you will die! Women and children alike. This is no joke," the Captain of the Mountain Leopard Team continued to roar.

The women and children surrounded by the Bandits trembled in fear, yet no one dared to speak up to ask the Bandits to surrender; it was not that they did not want to, but the women had been beaten into submission by the Bandits and knew they could make no decisions in front of them, and pleading for mercy would not work either.

Of course, the Bandits were not made of steel either; they were scared to death at this moment, but their leader had not yet spoken, and Delang's trusted subordinates dared not bypass Delang to beg for mercy.

Jier could see that those Bandits were all waiting for the Bandit Leader's decision; if that Bandit Leader surrendered, he reckoned they would all surrender. If that Bandit Leader decided to fight to the death, he reckoned the Bandits would fight until that Bandit Leader fell in battle.

The key decision-maker was that fellow.

Jier stared fixedly at the tall Bandit leaning on his Double-edged Battle Axe; he had some unfinished business with this Bandit from two days ago, and he was unwilling to see this man surrender only to be beheaded at the outpost, nor did he want this fellow to be shot dead by a volley of arrows.

After thinking about it, Jier felt it would be better for this fellow to be defeated by him. Anyway, for the Militia, a dead Bandit Leader or a living Bandit Leader was about the same. And for him, whether he could personally defeat this guy who looked quite formidable was rather interesting.

Seeing that the Captain of the Mountain Leopard Team was about to speak again to urge these increasingly restless and tense Bandits to surrender, Jier stepped forward a few paces, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

Seeing that everyone was looking at him as he suddenly moved, Jier looked at the Captain of the Mountain Leopard Team and said, "No need to persuade them anymore. If this Bandit Leader doesn't bow his head, they won't lay down their weapons and surrender."

Looking at Jier, the Militia Captain of the Mountain Leopard Team asked in return, "Then what do you mean?"

Jier struck his Long Spear against the ground, planting it in the soil and snow. He took his Metal Shield and the Hunting Sword at his waist into his hands, and a smiling reply came from beneath his Helmet: "I happen to have a small grudge with this Bandit Leader, and I was just thinking of using his blood to wash my Hunting Sword."

"That fellow! Compared to the matter of surrendering or not, would you like to have a duel with me?" Jier excitedly raised the Shield and Long Sword in his hands and spun around in place.

"Look! The biting wind! The murderous Forest! The white snow that buries everything! The cornered Bandits! The bloodthirsty Militia! The watching crows and the corpses craving life! Isn't all of this a perfect stage for a battle?" He even opened his Helmet Faceplate and shouted loudly.

"I didn't expect you to be a poet." The Militia burst into laughter, but they also became excited. The customs of this Kingdom were a bit strange; at least Jier understood them a little. Unlike the various stories passed down from other places, because the founding of this Kingdom was due to a very magical reason, and the King of this Kingdom had a status different from those original companions who were enfeoffed as Nobles.

This Kingdom was very prosperous in music and poetry, and the commoners therefore also liked the heroic stories associated with them.

Although Jier's actions at this moment were wild, to the equally young Militia, it only made them feel excited.

"Jier, are you sure about this?"

"Don't die! That guy looks like he's not easy to deal with."

"If you lose, we'll loose our arrows to avenge you!"

Jier laughed heartily. He closed his Faceplate, held his Long Sword in front of his chest, and placed his hand holding the Shield in front, performing the formal ritual for the start of a battle.

The Bandit opposite tightened and loosened his grip on the handle of the Double-edged Battle Axe standing on the ground, saying nothing.

Jier looked at the opponent and said, "Don't hesitate anymore; you have failed, that is a fact. If you still want to maintain a final shred of dignity, then come and fight me! Prove that you are a Warrior, not a loser struggling in defeat. Let me be clear: you are the Bandit Leader, and you cannot escape death."

Perhaps it was Jier's last sentence that enraged the Bandit Leader in front; after hearing Jier's words, the opponent grabbed the middle of the Double-edged Battle Axe, snatched it up, and then, breathing heavily, strode toward Jier.

Jier put down his sword and shield and, with a momentum no less than his opponent's, also strode forward.

Jier was more than a head shorter than his opponent, but because he wore armor that looked much finer than the opponent's, the two seemed to be on equal footing.

The Militia and the Bandits all quieted down, and everyone watched this inexplicable, sudden duel.

"Ha!" the Bandit Leader Delang roared, and the heavy axe in his hand Heavy Cleaved down toward Jier.

To everyone's surprise, Jier did not dodge; instead, he braced his arms behind his Shield and relied on the Shield to withstand Delang's full-force axe blow.

Clang!!

A loud sound of metal colliding rang out. Jier barely stabilized his posture; he did not move his feet, but was forced back a step by the heavy blow.

"Hiss, that's got some kick! Fighting those weak-as-nothing Bandits the past two days made me feel like I'd become quite weak myself!" Jier shook his arm slightly, while Delang, who had not expected Jier to actually dare to take a blow head-on, also rubbed his numb palms.

Jier looked into Delang's eyes: "Those weak-as-nothing guys, they're your men, right? They must be, right?" This remark from Jier clearly annoyed Delang.

He roared angrily, "Reckless Militia, today is your death day!" He swung the heavy Double-edged Battle Axe with both hands again, circled it over his head, and Heavy Cleaved toward Jier with gathered strength.

Jier changed his tactics from before; he side-stepped, and then defended with his Shield angled, the axe only slightly grazing the surface of the Shield, emitting a spark and a sharp ringing sound as it slid away.

"That was just to test your strength; did you really think you could hurt me?" After dodging Delang's axe, Jier lunged forward, his Long Sword striking the handle of Delang's axe with a jolt, then sliding along the handle to shave off wood chips and the wrapped leather, aiming for Delang's hands.

Delang lifted his leg and struck the axe handle with his knee; the immense force caused the handle to lift, perfectly deflecting Jier's Long Sword that had been pressed against it.

Immediately following this, Delang gripped his axe tightly and swung it horizontally toward the front of Jier's body.

Jier saw his intent and used his Shield to catch the front of the axe head head-on, the two of them locking in place.

Delang was about to exert force to snap Jier's left arm, but Jier acted first; he suddenly crouched while raising his left arm, lifting Delang's axe in one motion. Taking advantage of his lowered stance, Jier swung his Long Sword directly at Delang's legs.

Delang hopped backward, dodging Jier's insidious attack.

At the same time, he used one of the axe blades to hook the edge of Jier's Shield, and using the momentum of his backward jump, he tugged at Jier's Shield.

It didn't budge.

Jier tensed his left arm, exerting force to resist Delang's pull, while his right hand struck the front handle of Delang's axe twice in succession.

The handle was made of hardwood and was very tough, but it was not unbreakable. Struck twice by Jier, it was left with two deep sword marks.

"Don't even think about it!" Seeing Jier's plan, Delang thrust the axe forward, intending to strike Jier's Helmet.

But Jier had been guarding against this move; as the force transmitted through his hand shifted slightly, he raised his Shield, letting the suddenly lunging axe merely graze his Helmet.

These moves between the two were performed at lightning speed, leaving the Militia and Bandits watching them dumbfounded. The Militia were shocked by the precision and speed of the two fighters, yet relieved that they hadn't engaged these Bandits in melee combat, instead using Crossbows to press them step by step. If they had truly considered themselves Melee Militia and carelessly engaged this group of Bandits in close-quarters combat...

It was hard to say if they wouldn't have been slaughtered by this Bandit Leader, seven or eight men at a time.

Meanwhile, the Bandits watched their leader nervously, feeling in their hearts that the hope of their leader winning was gradually sinking.

They had expected the guy in armor among the Militia to be very active on the battlefield, but they hadn't expected him to be this powerful—not only arrogant, but capable of fighting their leader to a draw.

But a draw meant that they, the Bandits, were finished. Because as long as the opposing Militia fired a round of crossbow bolts at such a close, inescapable distance, they would lose at least half of their already small numbers.

If the enemy charged afterward, they would be completely finished.

Perhaps, they were already finished.

Thinking of this, some who did not want to die perhaps felt that surrendering to do hard labor was better than being killed right now. Especially when their women and children were by their sides.

A Bandit tremblingly threw his cold weapon into the snow in front of him, then, not daring to look at his companions, turned and hugged his wife and children.

The remaining Bandits looked at each other, then quietly threw their weapons into the snow in front of them, followed by crouching down to embrace their so-called families, accepting whatever was to come.

The Captain of the Mountain Leopard Team noticed that the Bandits had all thrown down their weapons and were adopting a posture of surrender. He smiled and nudged his subordinate next to him: "Look, those Bandits have surrendered."

"Boss, should we have Jier step aside and then fire arrows to kill this Bandit Leader?" the Militia member asked, raising the weapon in his hand.

The Captain of the Mountain Leopard Team stopped his subordinate: "Watch first. If Jier can win, let him win. If he's about to lose, we'll intervene. That way, Jier will owe us a life."

"Well said."

Jier, in the midst of the intense battle, had no time to pay attention to anything else; although he had indeed seen the situation on the Bandit side, he didn't care at all.

But Delang, as the Bandit Leader, did notice. After forcing Jier back slightly, he glanced backward and caught sight of the situation of the Bandits behind him out of the corner of his eye.

His breathing, which had been rhythmic, immediately fell into disarray.

Jier keenly sensed the change in his opponent's combat rhythm: "What are you looking at them for! Ha! Focus, I'm getting serious now." Having said that, Jier exerted force with his legs and lunged forward, turning his Shield to block the threat of the axe while his Long Sword thrust out violently during the lunge.

Delang widened his eyes, only seeing Jier's movement in a split second. Relying on years of combat instinct, he used his left arm to block Jier's lethal incoming sword.

The Long Sword pierced into Delang's left forearm, entering one side and exiting the other, just like puncturing a Water Bag, and fresh blood sprayed out from the wound.

But the spray of blood lasted only for a very, very short moment before it was stopped by Delang tensing the muscles in his arm. At the same time, he lifted a heavy, powerful kick, wanting to kick the approaching Jier away.

Jier, under his Helmet, curled his lips; he twisted his right wrist, turning the Long Sword at a wide angle inside the opponent's arm, and then Jier intentionally let himself be kicked away.

Thud.

This kick sent Jier flying horizontally for three meters.

Jier maintained his balance in the air and landed on his feet without falling.

Seeing Jier kicked away, the Militia immediately and nervously aimed their bows and crossbows at the opposing Bandit Leader.

"Don't be nervous, I had the upper hand just now!" Jier quickly spoke up; he was truly afraid his companions would fire a volley and shoot his opponent dead. However, he tapped his abdomen where he had been kicked with his sword hilt and muttered softly: "Hiss, that really hurts, though."

Opposite him, due to Jier twisting and churning with his sword at the end, what was originally a smooth piercing wound was directly gouged into a bloody hole by Jier's sword. A large amount of flesh and blood on Delang's left forearm had been shredded, and this time the bleeding could not be stopped.

"Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo." Panting heavily, Delang planted the axe he was holding in his right hand into the snow, tore two long strips from the hem of his animal-skin clothing, and wrapped one around the bloody hole of the wound, while the other was tightly bound around the elbow of his left arm.

Jier stood where he was, motionless. He pulled a piece of Linen Cloth soaked in blood from the small pouch at his waist, wiped it across his Long Sword, and cleared away the fresh blood and flesh fragments sticking to the blade.

Then he tucked the even dirtier Linen Cloth back into the small pouch at his waist.

There was no help for it; it wasn't that Jier was a pervert, but in this wilderness, there was no other coarse cloth available to wipe his weapon. And since the battle had been urgent, he couldn't worry about much else.

However, if his expectations were correct, once these Bandits were wiped out, there shouldn't be any more fighting.

Even if there were still Bandits hiding in the Bandit lair, Knight Kela would likely just set it on fire and handle them by burning or suffocating them all to death.

Delang panted heavily; the intense battle and the large amount of blood loss just now left him somewhat dazed. And the actions of those subordinates behind him, who had surrendered long before he was defeated, made his head buzz.

Have I really been defeated by this young kid in front of me?

Is this real?

He asked himself this in his mind.

At this moment, the crows watching from the trees nearby, perhaps having smelled the scent of blood drifting from Delang's injury, let out a unified, simultaneous "Caw!"

Accompanied by the cawing of the crows, those corpses in the Shikeng crawled out of the snow, letting out eerie howls with their broken throats while clawing at the edges of the Shikeng.

They smelled the scent of blood; they were thirsty, wanting, wanting more.

And some corpses with broken legs could only wave their arms at the bottom of the Shikeng, letting those that could still walk drag them along as they wandered.

Jier looked at the Bandit Leader opposite him, while the Bandit Leader opposite him, after a moment of mental daze, came back to his senses.

He stared fixedly at Jier and asked in a hoarse voice: "I haven't been defeated yet. Hoo, ha, hoo. I have a proposal; do you dare to come with me and fight in the Shikeng behind us?"

Jier looked at the opponent with the eyes of someone looking at a madman.

The Militia cursed the Bandit Leader one after another, feeling that this guy had defiled and ruined this magnificent duel. A perfect duel that could have been talked about at the dinner table for days had come to such a disappointing end.

Jier listened to the remarks of the Militia behind him and replied to the opponent: "Heh, haha, hahahaha! For the sake of a perfect ending to a battle, what is there that I wouldn't dare?"

Delang stared intently at the eyes beneath Jier's Helmet Faceplate, seemingly seeing a pair of eyes that did not belong to a Human. Those eyes were blood-red, as if reflecting blood, battle, and death.

Seeming to have thought of something, he turned around, dragging his axe with his right hand, without even looking at the surrendered Bandits, nor at the woman he loved or his own child for whom he felt an indescribable emotion.

Jier did not look at the panicked appearance of the Militia behind him either; he merely raised his sword to signal them with his back turned, then bypassed the surrendered Bandits from the other side, preparing to finally fight to the death with that Bandit Leader, who had abandoned all hope, at the bottom of the Shikeng filled with death.

Beneath his Faceplate, Jier excitedly muttered to himself: "When I first saw this Shikeng, I wanted to do this. Hehehe."