Chapter 139: 139 - Invaders [3]—Pwyll vs The Commander Knight

"Just knock them down if you can!"

Elianna ordered to Kael and the others.

They followed her words as much as they can. The battle was a chaotic mess of mud, metal, and the heavy scent of blood. Elianna tried her best to move through the fray with a grace that didn’t match the violence surrounding them. She used the flat of her blade or the pommel of her sword to strike at the orcs, hoping to disable them rather than end their lives.

"Ugh...!"

Kael grunted as he caught a heavy axe on his shield. The vibration rattled his teeth and made his shoulders ache.

Restraining the orcs was much harder than killing them. It required more movement, more focus, and a lot more energy. Kael and the others, even Elianna; was losing a lot of stamina as the chaos continued. Every time they tried to hold back, the orcs would press their advantage, forced to fight for their lives. The defenders weren’t pulling their punches, which made the "no-kill" order feel like a heavy weight around the squad’s neck.

On the other hand--

"FUCK!!!"

SLASH!

Not far away from them, the knight commander was fighting alongside the subjugation squad sent by the empire and his squad members. He was a whirlwind of gold-plated armor and flashing steel. His movements were jagged and full of hate. Unlike Elianna and the others, they were set on on killing the orcs. They didn’t care about the reasons behind this village or who these people were. To them, anything with green skin and tusks was just a monster to be put down.

Together, they killed over ten orcs now. The bodies were piling up, staining the dark soil of the [Cursed Forest] a deeper shade of red.

But as they were coordinating to kill another one—BAM!

The sound of two heavy impacts shook the ground right in front of their path. Dust and dried leaves kicked up into the air, momentarily obscuring the view.

"Huh...?"

The commander knight halted, his sword held low as he blinked through the haze. Two figures suddenly landed in front of their group. And to their surprise—they weren’t orcs.

"What the hell?"

The commander mumbled, his grip tightening on his hilt.

The two figures were humans; a man and a woman.

It was Pwyll and Bernia!

"..."

"..."

They stood with a relaxed but dangerous posture, their eyes cold as they surveyed the knights in front of them. Pwyll had a massive sword rested on his shoulder, while Bernia held her weapon with a practiced ease.

Anyway, including the knight commander; they have eleven in their group. Five elite soldiers sent by the empire, and five royal knights directly under him. So seeing two people approach then with swords in their hands—

"Hah...!"

The commander couldn’t help but scoff. He looked at the two of them with a sneer that twisted his features. He recognized them immediately; they were on top of the walls as well before, looking down on them.

"I thought you were just cowards hiding behind your green-skinned pets,"

The commander said, his voice dripping with venom.

"But here you are. You’re humans, aren’t you? Look at you. You look like capable warriors. So why are you standing in our way?"

Pwyll and Bernia didn’t move. They just watched him with expressions that made the commander even angrier.

"YOU BOTH SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES!!! You are traitors of the human race! To think that two of our kind would team up with demonic beings in a place like this... it’s disgusting. You’re no better than the beasts you protect!"

The commander shouted. The soldiers behind him laughed and muttered insults of their own, feeling emboldened by their leader’s words.

Pwyll and Bernia just frowned after hearing that, but they didn’t say anything back. The commander’s words were like water off a duck’s back. They had heard it all before—the talk of "humanity" and "righteousness."

’You don’t even know that the kingdom you served made us slaves for their greedy desires.’

Pwyll and Bernia thought to themselves. They remembered the iron collars. They remembered being sold like cattle in the markets of the very kingdom this man was so proud to represent.

"I’ll handle that loud-mouth. Deal with its subordinates."

Pwyll glanced at Bernia and said that.

His voice was calm. It was the voice of a man who had faced death throughout his life.

Bernia nodded her head, then without further ado—BAM!

The two of them rushed forward toward the enemies!

"DIEEEE! YOU SCUM!"

The knight commander screamed as he lunged forward.

SWOOSH!

Then he swund his sword downward as Pwyll ran straight toward him!

It was a powerful strike, backed by the full weight of his anger and his heavy armor. He thought that Pwyll was stupid. He expected Pwyll to be crushed or forced to dodge. BUT THEN—TINK!

PWYLL JUST RAISED HIS SWORD ABOVE HIS HEAD AND BLOCKED THE ATTACK BEFORE IT COULD EVEN SPLIT HIS HEAD!

He didn’t even buckle under the weight. He held the blade there with one hand, his arm as steady as a stone pillar.

"I wonder... which of us really is the scum."

Pwyll muttered, his eyes locked onto the widened eyes of the commander.

SHIIIK—BOOM!

He then made the commander’s blade slip through his sword, deflecting it toward the ground!

The commander’s sword slammed into the earth, burying itself inches deep in the mud. And as his opponent was in an awkward position—SWISH!

PWYLL QUICKLY LAUNCHED A SWIFT HORIZONTAL SLASH!

"GURGH...!"

The commander had no choice but to crouch down to avoid it. Pwyll’s sword barely missing his head.

The blade whistled just inches above his helmet. But Pwyll expected that as well, and because he predicted it—TWHACK!

HE WAS ABLE TO KICK THE COMMANDER KNIGHT WITH HIS LEFT FOOT!

The boot connected squarely with the commander’s chest plate, sending him flying backward.

"GAH!"

The commander knight was forced to roll onto the ground because of the force of the kick.

He was a mess of gold and dirt, his cape tangled around his legs. But as quickly as he can--He immediately stood up and raised his weapon again to point it at Pwyll. He was gasping for air, his pride hurt more than his body.

"..."

But as he got into his fighting stance again--he saw that Pwyllw as still a meter away from him.

He was just standing there, his sword lowered. He didn’t even move to attack him as he was on the ground!

"...?"

This confused the commander knight. He expected a follow-up, a killing blow. Why was this man just watching him?

Though, just then--

"You’re good at rolling on the ground, huh... Why are you even wearing a gold-plated armor? Wouldn’t that just get dirty with you?"

Pwyll suddenly said that with a casual shrug of his shoulders!

He spoke as if they were just having a conversation in a tavern rather than a life-or-death battle. HE PROVOKED THE COMMANDER KNIGHT!

And seeing the reddened face and the veins popping out on the commander’s neck—

"BASTARD...!"

Looks like it worked effectively.

****

BAM!

"GRAAAAHHHH!!!"

The commander let out a guttural roar and charged toward Pwyll.

CLANG! TINK! TAAAANG!

The forest echoed with the sound of their duel. This time, the commander knight’s strikes were faster, fueled by a blind rage that threw all his training out the window.

The commander was in advantage in terms of strength. Each time their swords met, the air around them seemed to ripple from the sheer force he was putting into his swings. He was a bull, charging with everything he had, trying to break Pwyll’s guard through brute power alone.

But Pwyll was better with agility and technique.

FWISH~

He moved like a dancer in the middle of a storm. He didn’t try to stop the commander’s blade directly. Instead, he would tap the side of the knight’s sword just enough to send the strike wide.

SHIIIIK!

Pwyll stepped to the left as a massive thrust went past his ribs. He didn’t even look stressed.

"Is that all? I’ve seen orcs swing harder than that while they were sleeping,"

Pwyll said, his voice light and mocking.

"YOU SHUT UP! I WILL HANG YOUR HEAD FROM THE CAPITAL GATES!"

SLASH!

The commander screamed, swinging his sword in a wide, desperate arc!

CLINK-SHIIIIIIIK--BOOOM!!!

Pwyll received it with his blade as well, and delfected the attack with ease onto the ground again!

"GRAAAAHHHH!!! DIEEEE!!!"

S W O O O O O S H—!

The commander knight launched a barrage of attacks, swinging his sword violently. He was hoping to hit Pwyll at least once.

Though--

’Too easy to read.’

FWIP--SWISH—!

Pwyll avoided all of the attack effortlessly!

He would duck, weave, and pivot on his heel, always staying just an inch out of reach. It was like he was playing a game.

And because of what he was doing; the commander knight became even angrier! His footwork became sloppy. He was overextending, leaving his sides and back open constantly!

"Are you really the commander?"

TIIING—!

Pwyll asked as he parried another blow, sending the knight stumbling forward.

"The only thing you’re commanding is a one-way trip to the dirt. Look at you. You’re covered in mud. Your precious gold is all scratched up. What would your king say?"

"DIE! DIE! DIE!"

The commander hissed, lunging again.

Pwyll just continued insulting his opponent throughout the fight. Every word was like a needle, poking at the commander’s fragile ego.

"..."

Pwyll was someone who fought and won against orcs everyday despite the massive difference in physical prowess. He knew what it was like to fight something three times his size and ten times his strength.

He was also the prince of a large barbarian tribe. Before he was a slave, he was a warrior born from everyday battle.

He was an undefeated Colosseum champion even after being a slave—and although the commander knight was strong—Pwyll was just stronger, more talented. He had spent years fighting for his life in the pits, where a single mistake meant your guts would be spilled for the entertainment of the masses.

Compared to the killers and monsters he had faced in the arena, this rusted commander knight was nothing.

"YOU SLIPPERY BASTARD!!! JUST FUCKING DIE!!!"

SWOOOOOSH—!!!

The commander swung his sword down one last time, a two-handed strike that he put his entire soul into. He was screaming, his eyes bloodshot.

"GRAAAAAH!"

Pwyll’s eyes sharpened. This was the moment.

"..."

Tap-

He didn’t dodge this time. He stepped into the strike.

Then in the next moment—

SHIIIIIIING!

Pwyll’s sword moved in a blur that the human eye could barely follow. It was a perfect, clean arc of silver!

S L A S H—!

"Huh?"

The commander’s scream of rage was suddenly cut short.

And the next thing he knew—

THUD-

His whole right arm fell into the mud while still clutching the hilt of his golden sword! Pwyll just sliced off his limb clean with a fast counter-attack!

PSSSHHHK~!

Blood sprayed across the ground, painting the fallen leaves a bright, horrifying crimson.

"AGHHHHHHH! MY ARM! MY ARRRRM!"

The commander collapsed to his knees, his left hand desperately trying to clutch the stump where his shoulder used to be. He was gasping, his face turning a sickly white as shock set in.

The battlefield seemed to go quiet around him.

TAP-

Pwyll stood over the commander knight, his expression cold and devoid of the mockery from before. The fight was over.

"You talk too much for someone who can’t even hold their own sword."

Pwyll said quietly.

And as the commander knight was screaming in pain, panicking—

TWHACK!

He used the hilt of his sword to knock his opponent out.

The blunt impact of the pommel hit the commander’s temple with a sickening thud. The screaming stopped instantly. The commander’s eyes rolled back into his head, and his body slumped forward into the mud, unconscious.

THUD!

Pwyll didn’t even look at him again. He flicked the blood off his blade with a sharp motion and turned his gaze toward the rest of the battle. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"One down."

Pwyll muttered to himself.