Chapter 955 - 178: By the Blood of Kings
The newcomers were Hospital Knights under Losa’s command. Their strength had improved rapidly. Aside from the tempering recorded in battle records, this era with its extremely dense religious atmosphere indeed possessed soil conducive to the development and growth of "Holy Light."
"These people are no ordinary foes, they should be the elite under Saladin’s command."
"The enemy commander looks like a big fish, perhaps some noble or royalty."
The Hospital Knight at the forefront wielded a flail and warhammer, its head studded with numerous small iron nails, still stained with unclear, mottled blood. He twirled the flail, showing off a small trick.
"Should we capture them alive?"
"Of course!"
The Flail Knight laughed heartily as he charged forward ahead of others, leading the assault.
Malik was furious; he could feel the undisguised contempt on the enemy’s face.
Your Frankish king looks down on me, but even you small lackeys under him dare to look down on me?
"Kill them all!"
He roared, raising his sword to charge.
The Kasaji Guards behind him followed suit, moving in silence.
Boom—
With a gust of wind, the flail’s head smashed toward his head. This weapon, modeled after farm tools, could break necks and crack bones even with the finest helmet in all Damascus.
He hastily swung his sword to block, only to be met with the knight’s sneer. The hammerhead had intentionally wrapped its chain around his weapon.
The knight pretended to pull on it, scaring Malik into abandoning his sword and drawing his saber from his waist. Yet, the knight merely used the flail to seize his sword, then stood in place, inspecting his spoils with interest.
"They say Damascus has the world’s finest craftsmen; seeing it today, indeed, is not an exaggeration. This sword is nice, it will follow me from now on."
The tall Flail Knight laughed out loud, his laughter contrasting with Malik, who seemed like a novice freshly stepping onto the battlefield.
Malik boiled with rage but realized these enemies were no ordinary foes. From the immense force transmitted when the flail struck his saber, these soldiers clearly had used magic potions!
The Flail Knight laughed arrogantly, yet his companions were silent, like ascetics, only the cold eyes under the pig-mouth-like helmets watching as if they were seeing a group of dead men.
"Be careful."
Malik gently reminded, as if facing a formidable enemy, picking up a shield from a dead soldier on the ground, preparing for battle, each side over ten fighters, ready to engage.
"Had enough fun, Murphy?"
Someone behind him impatiently reminded. The Flail Knight casually placed the treasured sword aside, gesturing toward Malik: "Keep that sword scabbard safe for me."
Malik understood the Frankish language, breathing heavier under his faceplate.
Both sides simultaneously launched attacks on each other.
Boom—
Again came that familiar forceful wind, as Murphy, the Flail Knight, used his weapon, forcing even his companions to stay clear. Its far-reaching attack range compelled Malik to keep retreating.
"Damn it!"
Malik tentatively used his shield to block, but the iron-clad shield was shattered instantly. His arm ached, and if not for the lined wrist guards, it would surely have been fractured and tendons torn.
"Your Highness!"
In the melee, a Kasaji Guard had noticed Malik was not the match for this opponent. At this critical moment, disregarding the slash coming head-on, he exposed his back, enduring a sword hit, and picked up a javelin from the ground, hurling it at the Flail Knight, forcing him to halt his storm-like offensive, giving Malik a brief respite.
"So you’ve been defensive all along, worrying about your master?"
The Hospital Knight facing the Kasaji Guard’s raspy, muffled voice came from beneath the mask: "Loyal indeed, want to consider serving someone else?"
The Kasaji Guard, struggling to stand, sneered: "As I am now, what meaning is there in changing masters?"
The Hospital Knight sighed regretfully.
According to European logic, the Mamluks of the Ayyubid Dynasty mostly had studied at Church School. Apart from anything else, simply being able to use multiple languages like Frankish, Saracen is something many Crusader Princes couldn’t achieve.
Unfortunately, such talents were the hardest to turn to the Crusaders’ side.
"I can save you."
The Kasaji Guard spat out blood foam, "I’ll wait for you in Hell!"
"What a pity..."
He sighed with regret, knowing the other would not surrender. Thus, swiftly and cleanly, he parried the defensive weapon and pierced his weak neck armor ring, ending his life.
The battle’s tide was overwhelmingly one-sided; Malik was no match for the Flail Knight, while the rest of the Kasaji Guards were not a match for the Hospital Knights with Holy Light Power.
Malik watched as his Kasaji Guards fell one by one, the towering knight wielding the flail laughing bolder by the moment, yet his initial anger was gone.
Despair, fear, hatred...
Facing the end of life, he desperately tried to stand tall, to be more dignified, as he said, "Fighting for Damascus and his father Saladin, to die in battle," yet his hands shook fiercely.
Unfortunately, such talents were the hardest to turn to the Crusaders’ side.
"I can save you."
The Kasaji Guard spat out blood foam, "I’ll wait for you in Hell!"
"What a pity..."
He sighed with regret, knowing the other would not surrender. Thus, swiftly and cleanly, he parried the defensive weapon and pierced his weak neck armor ring, ending his life.
The battle’s tide was overwhelmingly one-sided; Malik was no match for the Flail Knight, while the rest of the Kasaji Guards were not a match for the Hospital Knights with Holy Light Power.
Malik watched as his Kasaji Guards fell one by one, the towering knight wielding the flail laughing bolder by the moment, yet his initial anger was gone.
Despair, fear, hatred...
Facing the end of life, he desperately tried to stand tall, to be more dignified, as he said, "Fighting for Damascus and his father Saladin, to die in battle," yet his hands shook fiercely.
Unfortunately, such talents were the hardest to turn to the Crusaders’ side.
"I can save you."
The Kasaji Guard spat out blood foam, "I’ll wait for you in Hell!"
"What a pity..."
He sighed with regret, knowing the other would not surrender. Thus, swiftly and cleanly, he parried the defensive weapon and pierced his weak neck armor ring, ending his life.
The battle’s tide was overwhelmingly one-sided; Malik was no match for the Flail Knight, while the rest of the Kasaji Guards were not a match for the Hospital Knights with Holy Light Power.
Malik watched as his Kasaji Guards fell one by one, the towering knight wielding the flail laughing bolder by the moment, yet his initial anger was gone.
Despair, fear, hatred...
Facing the end of life, he desperately tried to stand tall, to be more dignified, as he said, "Fighting for Damascus and his father Saladin, to die in battle," yet his hands shook fiercely.