Four Split Personalities

[It’s already the limit...]

Batty Arthur pressed close to his horse’s back, dodging a stray arrow in what could only be described as a clumsy manner. He looked at the distant silhouette of the main formation of the Holy Spear Knight Academy, which seemed to be getting further away, and sighed deeply.

The comrades around him were already trying their hardest. In order to maximize speed, everyone was even taking great risks, infusing their battle energy into the warhorses in the middle of the synchronized charge, just to successfully threaten the distant Diesel Light Cavalry.

Indeed, it was just a threat. After about two minutes of this pursuit, even if no one said it aloud, everyone had stopped believing they could deliver any fatal blow to those almost unbelievably agile enemies. The only reason they were still gritting their teeth and persisting was that Batty, the absolute core of the team, had not issued a new order.

If this continues, we will lose.

No one wanted to think about this, but neither could anyone completely control their thoughts.

Including Batty Arthur, who, due to overthinking, was nearly oxygen-deprived, at this moment was almost shrouded by the shadow of defeat.

[We can’t keep chasing.]

Suddenly realizing that the opponents had not failed to widen the distance simply because they couldn’t, but were comfortably sapping their morale and stamina, Batty finally gave up what seemed like an imminent encirclement. He ordered all comrades to slow down and regroup, and called back the squad that had been split off earlier.

He believed that if he continued at this pace, even if they could restrain the Diesel people’s range of movement, it would be difficult to force them into a direct confrontation in a short time. Meanwhile, their own side, burdened with heavy equipment, would experience a cliff-like drop in physical strength, both human and horse, falling to a dangerous level of combat power.

And when this danger reached a certain threshold, that would be when the Diesel people counterattacked.

So, rather than maintaining a mindset of ’I’ve done so much, I can’t let previous efforts go to waste, even if I have to grit my teeth and persist’, it would be better to be decisive and cut losses before the situation slides to an irrecoverable state.

In fact, Batty knew he had been indecisive enough. Although he could still barely analyze the battle from an objective perspective, the feeling of being perpetually within the opponent’s plans, unable to escape their arrangements no matter what he did, was something hard to accept for a young man determined to become a famous general.

Leading everyone to fight in an environment where they were being toyed with, anyone with slightly less psychological resilience might have already collapsed, giving up entirely.

Even if we can’t win, at least we can lose with dignity.

Even if we can’t lose with dignity, at least we can make sure they don’t win with dignity.

But Batty still held his nerves, suppressing the impulse that kept surging in his heart.

...

"I want to win."

Many, many years later, though aged, Batty Arthur, still carrying traits of wit, humor, and handsomeness—known as the "Cunning Fox"—sat by the fireplace in his study. He was stroking a faded, barely noticeable Martial Arts Championship Second Place Medal among his many honors, and smiled at the gnome girl who had run her legs off and talked her mouth dry to get this interview opportunity: "Honestly, at that time my head was a muddled mess, but there’s one thing I still remember clearly, and that is I wanted to win; I wanted to defeat that arrogant Knight Order with my comrades."

"Pfft, they weren’t such an arrogant Knight Order at the time, if I remember correctly, Lady Liyadrin was just a reserve in the Diesel Family’s reserves~"

As the most outstanding journalist among the younger generation of the "Yali Report", the gnome girl showed no signs of nervousness facing the famous general, instead winking playfully like an old friend, teasingly saying: "Are you gilding the lily, sir?"

"Haha, you shouldn’t put it that way, young lady."

Batty Arthur also laughed, shrugging: "Perhaps I can share an exclusive with you, that the great lord you mentioned was already formidable back then. Even after enduring a fierce battle, it only took her one move, just one, to knock me off my horse!"

Two cups of richly scented coffee were gently pushed in front of Batty and the bright-eyed female reporter. A rabbit tribe half-beast woman, with snow-white hair and nearing sixty despite her wonderfully sculpted gentle contours, her well-maintained skin, softly patted Batty Arthur’s shoulder, and leisurely said: "While you’re not wrong, darling, you must admit that in a fight between equals, anyone who tries to bring you down would rarely need a second move."

"Hmm, I get your point, Lainan, after all, I’m so clever; I never give anyone a second chan..."

"Because if they struck again, you might be dead."

"Uh..."

The handsome old man flushed slightly, coughing lightly, then after a few seconds, put on a serious face and said to his wife in a low voice: "Be serious, there’s an interview going on here."