Chapter 163 - 158: Bizarre Coordination
Ola motioned for one of his Knights to check the spot where a guardsman had just disappeared.
The Knight raised his shield in his left hand and held his sword in his right, cautiously advancing toward a dense clump of waist-high reeds.
Ola’s gaze was locked on him, his own hand tightening around the handle of his axe, ready to strike at any moment.
Just then, the Knight caught a flicker of a black shadow to his left out of the corner of his eye!
"A trap!" the Knight yelled, instinctively swinging his tower shield to the left.
CLANG—!
A Crossbow Arrow struck his shield and was successfully blocked.
Just as a flicker of relief passed through the Knight’s mind, a dull THWACK sounded from his right ankle!
A blunt-tipped Crossbow Arrow had struck his ankle. The immense impact twisted his right foot, which was supporting his weight, and his body involuntarily lurched to the right.
’Crap!’
The moment he lost his balance, Barrett sprang from the reeds to his right and rear. With no wasted movements, he swung his shortsword down.
CLANK!
An immense force struck a seam in his armor. The Knight’s vision went black, his mind buzzed, and he crashed into the muddy water.
"Toby!" Ola roared, his eyes wide with fury.
’It all happened too fast!’
The feint from the left, the disabling shot from the right, and Barrett’s finishing blow—the three attacks were executed with almost no time in between!
Ola’s mind was reeling.
He couldn’t comprehend how Barrett and his team were coordinating.
There were no shouts, no hand signals, yet the three-part assault was perfectly seamless, leaving no room to react.
"Change formation! Back-to-back!"
Ola suppressed his shock and barked the order.
The four remaining men immediately closed ranks, forming a defensive circle and watching every direction.
This formation sacrificed mobility but offered maximum defense against ambushes.
However, what Barrett’s squad did next made Ola feel like a turtle being toyed with.
WHOOSH!
A blunt-tipped arrow flew in from the east, harmlessly rapping against a Knight’s shield.
The Knight had just started to readjust his stance.
WHOOSH!
Another arrow immediately flew in from the west, knocking his helmet askew.
The continuous harassment was making the Knights extremely agitated.
They were like flies in the Swamp—impossible to hit, impossible to drive away, always showing up in the most infuriating places.
The attacks came without a pattern, from all directions.
They lacked power, but they were deeply insulting.
The rage in Ola’s chest burned hotter and hotter.
His Knights were also growing anxious. Their breathing grew heavier, their nerves were stretched taut, and their stamina was rapidly draining from the pointless state of high alert.
"Bastards! If you have any guts, come out and fight me head-on!" Ola’s roar echoed across the Swamp, met only by silence.
Suddenly, a figure appeared about fifty paces to Ola’s front-right. He made a provocative gesture before quickly ducking back into the bushes.
"Over there! Charge! Crush him!"
Ola’s fury was completely ignited. He ordered the formation forward, and the circle began to advance in that direction.
However, the Knight on the far right seemed to trip on something.
He didn’t even have time to look down.
WHOOSH—!
An irresistible force yanked up from his feet!
A rope hidden in the muddy water snapped taut, hoisting him upside down into the air!
The Knight’s body was thrown off-balance, exposing all his weak points to the open air.
Ola didn’t even have time to react.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
Three Crossbow Arrows shot out simultaneously from three completely different directions.
As the dangling Knight watched in terror, the three arrows struck his armpit, thigh, and neck.
Another Knight fell.
A chill doused Ola’s fury.
Every one of the enemy’s moves was executed with uncanny synchronization, as if they had practiced for this exact moment a thousand times.
’And my Knights and I are just their training dummies.’
There was a gap in their circular formation.
The remaining two Knights were beginning to waver.
Barrett’s squad gave them no chance to regroup.
With three men defending against five, the situation inevitably worsened.
Harassment, kiting, and baiting.
When the last Knight stepped into a trap and was taken out by a volley of Crossbow Arrows, Ola was left standing all alone.
"Bastard!"
The Half-Dwarf’s rage was fully ignited. He was a Level 4 Knight; he could not accept being defeated by such a dishonorable fighting style.
He abandoned all defense, brandished his great axe, and charged at Barrett, who had finally shown himself.
But Barrett didn’t meet the charge head-on.
He rapidly backed away as two of his squad members fanned out to the sides, raising their hand crossbows.
Ola chased Barrett, relentlessly chopping with his great axe. The force of his swings made the air whistle with a dull roar.
But Barrett always managed to evade just in time. His steps were small, yet they were always just enough to dodge the axe blade.
The longer Ola chased, the more unnerved he became.
He realized that Barrett wasn’t even looking back, yet seemed to know Ola’s every move in advance.
When Ola feinted left, preparing for a horizontal sweep, Barrett had already taken a preemptive step to the right.
When he changed his chop to a thrust, Barrett had already ducked, letting the tip of the axe skim over his scalp.
What frustrated him even more were the other four squad members.
They always appeared in the most inconvenient positions.
Whenever he chased Barrett, a blunt arrow would fly at his back, forcing him to turn and block.
If he tried to attack someone at his flank, an obstacle would suddenly appear at his feet.
These five people moved as a single entity.
Every action, every repositioning, was executed with flawless coordination.
He felt as if he weren’t fighting five men, but struggling against a single monster with five pairs of arms and legs.
His heavy plate armor had become a burden.
Every swing of his great axe that met only air drained a huge amount of his stamina.
Sweat soaked his hair, and his breathing grew ragged.
Finally, after one of his powerful downward chops missed and left his body momentarily rigid, the opening appeared.
Barrett stopped abruptly and spun in close.
To Ola’s right, a guardsman threw a shortsword aimed straight for the wrist of his axe-wielding hand.
To Ola’s left, another guardsman slid forward and slammed his sword hilt viciously into the back of Ola’s knee.
From behind, a Crossbow Arrow struck again.
Ola felt his wrist go numb as a sharp pain shot through his knee, and a sudden force slammed into his back.
He lost his balance and collapsed heavily to his knees.
The heavy battle-axe slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground a few paces away.
Before he could even try to get up, five cold training shortswords were pressed against his throat, faceplate, heart, and limb joints from different directions.
The Swamp fell silent once more.
Barrett stood before Ola, his eyes betraying no emotion, and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Baron Stonebeard, you have lost."
Ola’s face flushed crimson.
He couldn’t understand. In terms of both individual skill and squad combat power, his side should have crushed them.
’How did we get routed so miserably?’
As they returned to camp after the exercise, Ola finally snapped and grabbed Barrett by the collar.
"One-Eye! How the fuck did you do that?"