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Chapter 21: Unable To Withstand A Single Blow
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 14:28:42 +0000 UTCAlthough he wanted to show the Hundred Knights a mysterious smile and add a “mystery” to improve his own style, Menachel knew that now was not the time to do such insignificant things.
Menachel took advantage of the King of the Hundred Knights’ lack of movement and swung his sword first. This time he did not hold back, and the sharp blade cut through the air, making bursts of sonic booms.
The King of the Hundred Knights, who was just about to confront him, was a little flustered by this sneak attack. He propped up his sword to block in front of him, and his body could not stop retreating, trying to achieve the purpose of dissipating force.
But at the moment of the collision between the swords, the King of the Hundred Knights found something wrong. The sword in his hand only felt a brief push, and then the King of the Hundred Knights felt a lightness in his hand, and everything around him sank instantly. Among the rapidly rising figures, he saw a headless body of a golden-armored knight leaning forward.
“Unable to withstand a single blow.”
Menachel commented bluntly on the completely lifeless King of the Hundred Knights. He only glanced at the half-broken sword still in the corpse’s hand. In the brief confrontation just now, the King of the Hundred Knights’s sword only lasted for a moment before being cut off.
Menachel shook off the blood stains on the blade. His sword was still shiny, without even a scratch – it seemed that the King of the Hundred Knights did not have the strength to forge a sword with dragon bones.
Artoria was obviously a little confused by the sudden change in the situation before her. She stared at Menachel blankly, and subconsciously protected the king's sword in front of her.
Stimulated by the cute scene of the girl, Menachel couldn’t help laughing. He took off the head armor on his face before Artoria attacked him: “Long time no see, Artoria, no, now I should call you King Arthur~”
Artoria immediately stepped back half a step when she saw Menachel reaching out, but when she saw the true face of the red-armored knight in front of her, she hesitated and retracted her foot. The girl frowned and asked tentatively: “Menachel?”
“It’s me.” Hearing the familiar tone that he had not heard for a long time, Menachel’s mouth corners slightly raised, but he was forcibly stopped. Menachel coughed lightly and made a “don’t ask” gesture to Artoria. Out of trust in her friend, Artoria very obediently stopped the words that were about to come out.
Under Artotia’s astonished gaze, Menachel stripped off the golden light armor on the body of the King of the Hundred Knights, revealing the soft armor inside. Then Menachel deflected the blade, and the broad back of the sword hit the body of the King of the Hundred Knights again and again, and the head that flew not far away was not spared.
Artotia and more than a hundred people under her command watched this strange scene quietly.
“You go first, the pursuers are coming soon.”
Menachel turned around and said, slowly walking forward a few steps. When passing by Artotia, Menachel lowered his voice and said, “Let’s talk about the past later.”
Artotia also knew that now was not the time for her personal matters, so she issued an order to retreat and led a small group of people to bypass the battle area in front. Not long after Artotia left, the sound of hurried horse hooves approached very quickly, and Menachel had to kick the armor that he had not been able to deal with into the shadows.
Menachel took a few steps forward. At this time, the dim moonlight in the sky was blocked by the dense tree canopy. In a dim forest, Menachel stopped.
The faint firelight lit up the darkness in the forest. The leader was a blue-armored knight that Menachel did not recognize. Through the faint firelight, Menachel could clearly see nearly a hundred knights following behind him.
Perhaps there were too few people. Except for the torch in the hand of the person standing at the front of the team, the whole team had no other light source.
The horse stopped steadily in front of Menachel, and the heat wave accompanied by the cold wind at night slapped Menachel’s face.
“Sir Menachel.” The blue-armored knight on the opposite side obviously recognized the identity of the roadblocker through the eye-catching armor on Menachel’s body: “Have you seen the remnants of Camelot?”
“I have killed the enemy leader.” Menachel pointed his sword at the barely recognizable human corpse on the ground, and said apologetically, “But I seem to have overdone it a little.”
“…”
The Blue-Armored Knight looked at the sword in Menachel’s hand with some fear, and accidentally swept across the golden light armor that was casually thrown aside.
If he remembered correctly, this was the armor of the King of the Hundred Knights.
Thinking of this, the Blue-Armored Knight was startled. He was about to open his mouth to shout, but with a flash of cold light, the Blue-Armored Knight and his horse fell to the ground one after another.
As early as when the opponent looked at the golden armor, Menachel had quietly changed the way he held the sword. He jumped up just in time and killed the leading knight in an instant. After slashing the sword, Menachel calmly put on the head armor with his left hand, and swung the second sword with his right hand to behead the soldier holding the torch.
The surroundings fell Into darkness again.
At this time, the army seemed to come to their senses and tried to find Menechel’s trace in the noise. Menechel, who had already sunk into the darkness, accurately found the chopped-off torch with his enhanced hearing. He carefully picked it up and threw it in the direction of the golden light armor.
This simple trick certainly could not fool the well-trained knights. They did not rush to chop the armor together. After a brief period of chaos, someone quickly organized discipline in the darkness.
In addition to the leader, a knight group must have other leaders, and the speaker was obviously one of them. With a low shout of “calm down”, the noise seemed to be blocked, leaving only the sound of one or two horses snorting.
But Menachel did not intend waste this opportunity to launch an assassination. When the other party spoke, he had already walked behind the other party, hiding behind the intricate crowd. The dim moonlight only showed Menachel’s vague figure. He raised his knife again, and warm blood was sprinkled all around.
Perhaps the strong smell of blood stimulated the warhorse. The horses, which had just been very obedient, suddenly became manic. The violent shaking of their bodies made the knights riding on their backs unable to help but speak, either scolding or comforting.
But for Menachel, this was all meaningless. The dense sound covered the sound of heavy armor pressing against the ground.
He waved the sword in his hand casually. Here, everyone except him was an enemy.
Therefore, Menachel did not need to be timid.
