Chapter 669: The Darkest Moonless Night (Part 6)

Jier pulled the Hunting Sword he had just thrown from the body of the dead Bandit and gripped it in his hand once more.

The Long Sword vibrated slightly, as if complaining to Jier about why he hadn't used it to strike down the other Bandits just moments ago.

"Still got a bit of a temper, huh."

Beneath his Steel Face Mask, he tugged the corners of his mouth into a slight smile, then turned serious, standing before all the Refugees, facing the dozens of elite Bandits head-on, along with the inexplicably mounted middle-aged man in their midst.

The other party's attire did not look like that of a Bandit Leader hiding in the mountain Forest, but rather like a leisurely Noble with a substantial estate.

Yet, the man was indeed leading nearly fifty or sixty elite Bandits.

"Who are you? It seems you and your men are determined to attack us today? Please look clearly: those behind me are all young Villagers from the Southern Province fleeing for their lives, carrying nothing of value. If you intend to acquire wealth, you have come to the wrong place and found the wrong enemy today."

Jier shouted loudly toward the other party.

Jier did not yet know that this group's target was the Refugees themselves; and it was no wonder, for even if a young Refugee could be sold for one Silver Coin, eight hundred people would only amount to eight hundred-odd Silver Coins, which was merely eighty-odd Gold Coins.

This might seem like a large sum of money, but compared to the precious goods carried by the merchants who used to travel these roads, it was far less.

Jier guessed that the local Bandits who plundered the Shanglu were having a hard time lately, as they had wiped out the few wild inns along the road that provided various services to traveling merchants and the Bandits themselves. But he still hadn't expected these Bandits to set their plundering sights on the unarmed Refugees themselves.

They were all f***ing poor to the point of insanity.

Of course, there was also the reason that other Bandits intended to pull off one last heist before leaving this place, but those Bandits were unlucky today, running into an unexpected hard nut like Jier.

He was like a thorn inside a money bag; whoever greedily reached in would be pricked.

The Bandit Leader, dressed like a Noble, heard Jier's shout, then voluntarily moved forward a short distance, arriving at the edge of the stream, and spoke to Jier and the hundreds of Refugees behind him.

"I am the King of the White Wall, Nobi-Feisibilu, the most legitimate owner of the White Stone City Wall and the land beneath everyone's feet, and the current Liege of the Feisibilu Family. Because others invaded and seized my family's territory many years ago, and were later betrayed, my family and I have been wandering until now."

"Becoming lowly Bandits was an unavoidable matter. Originally, I came today for these young Refugees, but seeing a young Knight like you today, it seems there is an unexpected gain."

The other party seemed to be using a Magic Tool that amplified the volume of his voice, so although he spoke at a normal volume, the amplified sound was far clearer than Jier's shouting.

Jier was confused by the other party's words; what did he mean by having an unexpected gain after seeing him?

"Apologies, I am from Kendall County in the Xīběi Province, originally departing with the army to participate in the expedition to the border of the Southern Province. But because I am burdened with a mission from the church, I am traveling together with these poor Southern Province citizens who need help. I regret that I cannot accept your invitation to join your command and your team. Whether it is your family or a Bandit group that relies on plundering for a living."

But Jier's reply amused the middle-aged man opposite, and even his men burst into laughter.

"Young man, I never said I was inviting you to join me."

After the middle-aged man mocked him like this, he then said loudly: "The Feisibilu Family will sever the lives of every Noble and Knight who passes through our family's territory. Young man, eliminating you today is my gain!"

Jier was extremely astonished; were these people crazy?

Because in this other world, strength and status were basically synonymous; Noble Lords and Knights were not people to be trifled with, and for Bandits who relied on plundering for a living, the thing they feared most was encountering such targets.

Because often, a single Knight could wipe out an entire Bandit group. And as for Noble Lords, not counting their personal guards and subordinate Knights, even their own strength—judging by Jier's assessment of Kendall Baron's strength and the various Magic Tools the man possessed—could easily wipe out a group of a hundred Bandits, provided the Baron himself was willing to pay the cost of the Magic Power used by the equipment.

But astonishment aside, since the man said this, he must certainly have the ability to take him down.

Especially the confidence that the middle-aged man and his men had in killing him; it surely wasn't the first time they had done this, and there must have been successful cases of taking down young Knights like him before.

Could it be that even after seeing his performance just now, these people still thought they could take him?

Thinking of this, Jier immediately became tense, far from the ease and liveliness he had when fighting the Bandits.

He switched the Long Sword to his left hand, then his right hand took a single pill wrapped in paper from a small Wooden box inside a small Leather Bag at the back of his metal belt. Pushing the Wooden box open with his thumb, Jier lifted his Faceplate and popped the only pill wrapped in paper into his mouth.

His tongue nimbly pushed the paper aside, then he opened his mouth to spit out the paper and lowered the Steel Face Mask.

He didn't chew or swallow the Red-eye Mushroom Sugar Pill in his mouth yet, but held it there to see how the situation developed.

Jier's movements were natural and fast, so the young people behind him didn't see clearly, and the enemies opposite didn't see clearly either due to the distance; at most, they saw him eat or drink something, which was perfectly normal.

"Oh, so you intend to kill me here? I have no grudge against you. By the way, has an army passed through here in the last two days? There were Nobles and Knights in it, you know. Did you and your men not attack that army? What a pity."

Jier's words caused the face of the mounted middle-aged man to change; after a cold snort, he said: "Is that your reliance? You don't think the army will turn back to take revenge on me and my men just because you were killed? Too naive, young man."

The middle-aged man pointed to his surroundings: "This is my family's territory, and I know it too well. The towering, continuous mountain ranges and the Forest will block all punitive expeditions and attacks against me. Ha, it's not like they haven't tried, and I am still here."

The man opposite held his chin high, then said to the young Refugees behind Jier: "You ignorant commoners, listen! The remaining dispute today has nothing to do with you! Those who do not wish to die here, lower your heads and leave, stay away from here. And the countless longbows and sharp arrows of my men will visit the most resolute violence upon those who are still standing with this young Knight in a moment."

The middle-aged man then repeated these words, while Jier chewed up the Red-eye Mushroom Sugar Pill in his mouth and swallowed it mixed with saliva.

He didn't turn his head to look behind him, but instead struck his Long Sword against his Elven Metal Shield: "What's the use of saying so much, as if you've already won against me. Victory or defeat must be decided by weapons. Come, let your men step forward and meet their deaths!"

Clang, clang.

Jier struck the Elven Metal Shield hard with the blade of his Long Sword. The other party was full of confidence, but it wasn't as if he didn't have his own trump cards.

Who wins and who loses is not decided by words.

Another round of footsteps sounded behind Jier as people moved away; he understood that the other party's words had indeed had some effect, and some young Refugees still did not want to fight alongside Jier under the conditions the man had promised.

He didn't turn his head to see who had left; after all, they had only met for less than a day, and it could hardly be called familiarity or trust.

But the words of the middle-aged man, who was retreating on horseback, surprised Jier slightly: "Very good, those of you who stayed will die together with this young Knight. Giddyap."

Only then did Jier turn his head to look left and right, discovering that at least fifty people were standing by his side; roughly half of the young Refugees who dared to fight had remained with him.

He recognized a few familiar faces, and Jier realized that most of those who stayed were believers of the church of the Farming God; regardless of whether it was true or false, these people had truly stayed here, prepared to fight alongside him.

"Hey, the upcoming battle will likely be very intense, you all might die. Go back, go back and support Bata'er Jiaoshi," Jier scolded the young people to his left and right, most of whom were holding nothing but some Stones.

"My Lord, don't worry about us. The Priest said that after eating the food gifted by the gods, even if we die in battle, we can still enter the Divine Kingdom!"

A farmer with a weathered face, who was actually quite young, said with a tug of his mouth.

"That's right, that's right. In the village, only the Village Chief's family and those with a lot of land could have their Souls enter the Divine Kingdom after death. I never expected that even though my family is so poor, we would have a chance to enter after death. It's too beautiful!"

Jier's breathing gradually became heavy, and the corners of his eyes were slightly moist.

But he really couldn't say anything. That damn Bata'er, as a Priest of the Farming God, really should go to the Underworld Prison after death. Although it was a well-intentioned statement to make the believers dare to fight, was this really okay?

Relying on deception through words.

For these young people with relaxed faces, what kind of ending would be waiting for them after they died in battle?

Or, perhaps there was no Divine Kingdom, no guide, and they would just follow the same process as everyone else, lingering around their dead bodies after death, and then enter the Underworld where the dead were supposed to go.

What kind of accusations would their Souls make then?

Before Jier could think any further, the Bandits on the other side of the stream launched their attack.

Unexpectedly, several people who seemed to be commanders first blew wooden whistles, and then the team of dozens quickly dispersed; the actions that followed caused Jier's expression to change drastically.

"Retreat! Everyone, retreat!"

Jier turned and waved his arms vigorously at the people behind him, because those Bandits had basically each taken out a Short Bow from behind their backs; after nocking an arrow and aiming slightly, the sounds of arrows flying by—*whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh*—rang out one after another.

The young Refugees behind Jier could not see very far in the night, so it was only when Jier suddenly drove them to retreat that they reacted, accompanied by the sound of arrows grazing past them.

They scattered and ran in all directions, crying for their parents.

But many people were still struck by arrows, especially since those Bandits were mostly aiming at Jier; the seven or eight Nongshen Believers around him fell to the ground one after another after being hit.

Some let out a short wail and then went silent, while others were lucky; after barely being hit by an arrow, they pulled over the corpses of Refugee companions or Bandits who had died earlier to use the bodies to block the arrows.

Jier urgently crouched halfway down, raised his Shield in front of him, and then heard a series of sounds like rain hitting banana leaves, followed by continuous vibrations coming from his arm.

*Clang-clang, clang, clang-clang-clang. *

Jier felt the force of the arrows and, sensing it was not very strong, suddenly stood up and charged forward quickly with his Shield raised. His legs and war skirt were hit by arrows, but the force seemed limited; Jier just paused for a moment and then continued forward.

The metal Arrowheads struck his body, continuously bursting into clusters of sparks; Jier gritted his teeth and charged down the slope from the open ground toward the stream.

*Swish, swish, swish*, he waded through the stream with long strides, moving laterally while on the move to dodge more bow and arrow fire.

"Ugh!" Jier felt a tightness in his chest, and a mouthful of blood surged up from his throat, which he swallowed down by force. Because the distance had closed, the Bandits who had spread out to his left and right could hit his body from his sides, completely bypassing the front of his body shielded by the Shield.

But if you won't let me have an easy time, I won't let you have an easy time either.

Jier did not charge directly into the front of the dozens of opponents—any fool knew that attacking the front of an enemy formation was not a good idea—so while his whole body was being hit by arrows, he forcibly charged toward the Bandits on the left side of the enemy formation.

"Right flank, retreat!"

Nobi-Feisibilu, that middle-aged man who was a former Noble and rode a horse, used his amplification Magic to command his subordinates again at this moment.

Hearing this loud command, the Bandits in front of Jier consciously stopped shooting, each holding a Short Bow in one hand and pressing down on a quiver at their waist with the other; they did not turn around, but instead walked backward slowly while facing Jier.

This way, the retreat speed was not fast, but they had the ability to counterattack when the enemy approached.

For example, right now.

Jier gritted his teeth and charged up, turned his body to barely block the arrow attack with his Shield, and then raised his Long Sword high, bringing down a Heavy Cleave with disheveled fury.

The Bandit in front of him also had a fierce look on his face and was not afraid at all; he directly swung the wooden Short Bow in his hand, striking toward Jier's Steel Helmet.

Because of the continuous interference of the arrows, the bow body of the opponent's Short Bow struck Jier's Helmet first.

*Thud*, Jier's neck tilted slightly, but his movements did not stop, and the Long Sword brought down in a Heavy Cleave directly sliced this Bandit in half vertically.

"Awoo-ahhh!"

Jier let out a roar, swung his Shield to knock away the half of the Bandit's body falling toward him, bent his body, and with the extra support of Life Energy in his legs, leaped several meters, crashing directly onto another retreating Bandit.

This crash of his directly smashed that Bandit to death; Jier's Long Sword then pierced through the man's chest, and with a lift of his right hand, he hoisted the corpse to block the arrows continuously striking the right side of his body.

He then quickly hung the Shield on his left hand onto his left back, freed his left hand, and drew the Heartfire Dagger from his right waist.

"Scorching!"

He roared, and the Heart Fire Magic Dagger responded to his words; sword-shaped, high-temperature Magic Fire sprayed forward from the fire-red blade.

The bushes and flower clusters on the wasteland ignited one after another upon touching the edge of this high-temperature fire, illuminating the surroundings and also the tense faces of many Bandits.

"Don't be afraid, left flank move forward, right flank continue to retreat, the target is still this Knight. Heh heh, Hammer-men and Slingers get ready; as soon as he slows down, listen to my command to move up."

Nobi-Feisibilu's confident words rang out across the battlefield on the wasteland.

Influenced by the logic and confidence in his words, the Bandits' morale was boosted again; even the Bandits directly facing Jier at this moment had resolute expressions, putting away their Short Bows while retreating and drawing their own small sturdy wooden Shields and sharp Cleavers.

Jier let out a loud shout, and while the corpse at his side was continuously being hit by arrows, he charged forward quickly, extended his left arm, and aimed the Heartfire Dagger spraying fire directly at the Bandits.

When Jier had just used the Dagger to eliminate the last few of the burly Bandits, he had noticed the difference in how to use the Magic Dagger.

Because it was a fire-spraying attack, even though it looked like the Dagger in his hand was activated in 'Scorching' Magic mode, it could not really be used as a Long Sword.

Even if the fire it sprayed looked like a Long Sword, its length was roughly the same as a standard Long Sword.

But the high-temperature fire of its 'blade' was an intangible object and did not have physical force.

Colliding with an enemy's weapon would only let the opponent's weapon pass through; the brief scorching would only make the opponent's weapon heat up slightly and soften a bit.

So Jier, drawing on his limited experience using the Magic Dagger, did not use this magical weapon as a Steel Long Sword, but as a small magic staff with an attack range of just over a meter!

Therefore, at this moment, the Bandit Jier charged toward subconsciously raised the small sturdy wooden Shield in his hand, with the Cleaver in his right hand held high, ready to give this Knight a taste of his own medicine after defending against the attack. Even if this Bandit only had one or two chances to exchange blows.

But Jier just held the Heartfire Dagger straight out, letting the high-temperature fire on the Dagger sweep across the opponent's arm and Shield; in just an instant, the Bandit's hair and face caught fire, the hair was ignited and then blown into ashes, while the subcutaneous fat on the face melted and burned in the high temperature.

The Bandit's subconscious breath after a gasp of surprise was what cost him his life. The scorching hot air was sucked into his trachea and lungs, causing him to collapse to the ground in pain and convulsions; he abandoned the weapon and Shield in his hands, clawing hard at his own neck and tearing at the Beast Skin Clothing on his chest, but it was to no avail.

Jier judged slightly and realized that if this person did not receive rapid treatment from a Church Priest, he would likely die of suffocation before long due to burns and spasms in his lungs, which would prevent him from breathing normally.

"Magic is too terrifying."

He muttered, then charged toward another Bandit again.

This time, seeing the fate of the previous Bandit, this Bandit gave up fighting altogether, turned around, and fled for his life.

Before Jier could catch up, an execution order was issued from within the Bandits' ranks.

"The consequence of fleeing in battle is death! Everyone in the second squad, aim at those who are cowardly and fleeing, fire!"

Once Nobi-Feisibilu gave the order, the dozen or so Bandits who were called changed the direction of the Short Bows in their hands, aimed slightly at the cowards fleeing on the wasteland at night, and then, following a whistle, more than ten arrows were fired in unison; after a short flight, they shot the Bandits who hadn't run more than a few steps down into the flower bushes.

"The families of those who flee will be demoted to slaves after the battle ends and rewarded to those who have rendered meritorious service in this battle."

Nobi-Feisibilu said afterward. Jier did not know that with this, the Bandits who did not want their families to become slaves abused by others no longer thought of fleeing. And the Bandits who wanted to abuse others were panting heavily, their Beast Skin skirts pushed up, their will to fight heightened.

Jier leaped up again, running and jumping as he charged toward the next Bandit closest to him.

Although the Bandits were spread out, the total number was only fifty or sixty; Jier's plan was simple: catch up to them one by one, and then kill them one by one.

Although he used all his strength in every fight and his Life Energy was consumed at high speed, he still had a trump card he hadn't used yet.

This Bandit knew he was doomed, so he roared and threw the sharp Cleaver in his hand at Jier, who was leaping through the air, and then, without even looking, raised the small sturdy wooden Shield on his left arm and crashed toward Jier in reverse.

The sharp Cleaver hit him with a *ding* sound, then sparked and bounced away. Jier let out a muffled groan; although he had no external injuries, the impact was not small, as the weight of the Cleaver far exceeded that of an arrow, so its power when hitting him was naturally different.

But he was not afraid; facing the Bandit who was crashing into him at the cost of his life, Jier kicked out with his left leg, and with a *boom*, a Heavy Cleave kicked the Bandit flying in mid-air during the collision.

When the man fell to the ground, both his arms were bent and broken, and the fractured bones had pierced out of his arms; the man screamed in pain, but the next moment, his upper body was swept by the high-temperature fire of the Heart Fire Magic Dagger, and he immediately caught fire along with the bushes around where he lay.

The Bandit in the flames wailed and tried to stand up, but after kicking his legs a few times, he couldn't stand up at all without the help of his arms. Enveloped by the flames, the man gradually went silent.