CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER 49: CLOSE COMBAT_1

Reynard didn’t choose to dodge. Instead, he charged straight ahead, and the commotion of their battle instantly struck fear into the surrounding bandits.

Though somewhat disheveled, the leader and two other bandits indeed succeeded in stalling Reynard, while the rest swarmed toward Lance like a hive of bees.

"Kill, kill, kill!"

"Cut him down!"

"Slit his throat!"

Lance didn’t panic in the slightest. He raised his hand and fired a crossbow arrow, hitting one unlucky fellow directly. At this range, it was almost impossible to miss.

But then the rest came charging. Bandits were just such desperadoes; the prospect of victory made them unafraid of their companions’ deaths. Instead, it only drove them crazier.

However, Balistan, guarding Lance’s side, wasn’t there for nothing. Faced with the swarming bandits, he lifted his hand and delivered a shield bash.

The one running fastest met the steel shield face-first. His movements halted, as if his brain had lost control of his body. Before he could react further, a Warhammer had already swung out, exploding his head like a watermelon. It turned into a blur of mangled flesh, and a few teeth were even knocked out of his mouth.

"This is the fate of scoundrels!" Balistan bellowed, like an old but still imposing lion. The aura he exuded was by no means inferior to Reynard’s.

The bandits, seeing this, were also deterred. They were crazy, but that didn’t mean they weren’t afraid.

However, their bloodthirstiness soon kicked in. They noticed Balistan had a shorter attack range, so two of them tangled with him, while the other went after Lance.

Shrinking back, Lance knew there wasn’t space to load another arrow at this distance. Looking at his approaching enemy, the urge to kill grew stronger within him. My sword will never get used to this world unless it tastes blood.

He didn’t hesitate to draw his short sword and charge forward.

"Kill!"

The bandit was a bit confused. When a crossbowman not only doesn’t run but draws his sword and charges at an approaching enemy... is he a crossbowman or a swordsman? he wondered.

But there was no chance for the bandit to back down against a crossbowman who had set aside his crossbow. He grabbed his own weapon and pounced, as if he couldn’t wait to cleave Lance in two.

Lance felt a bit nervous. He didn’t truly have any close-combat experience, and all his actions were very cautious, merely defending against the bandit’s attacks.

After exchanging a few moves, Lance realized that although his enemy was fierce, he wasn’t very strong. At least, the way the bandit swung his sword was full of openings in Lance’s eyes, and the force transmitted to his own hand wasn’t overwhelming.

"Can you do anything right?" one of the other bandits yelled. "We’re getting hammered to death over here, and you’re just playing around?"

The bandit was already puzzled by why his attacks were ineffective. After being yelled at by his companion, he became irritated and attacked with even greater intensity.

At first, Lance was afraid that the bandit had feigned weakness, but after a few more exchanges, he realized the man was genuinely inept.

So, Lance’s defense-oriented style suddenly became aggressive. In no time, the bandit was overwhelmed and began to fall into disarray.

When their swords clashed, the bandit’s short sword was knocked flying from his hand. Lance’s movements didn’t stop. Swiftly and forcefully, he raised his hand and made a cut, and the bandit fell to the ground.

Another bandit, seeing this, could no longer afford to keep Balistan surrounded. He turned, raised his axe, and charged at Lance. In Lance’s eyes, his movements were too slow. Lance sidestepped and thrust his short sword forward.

The bandit felt a warmth at his neck. He instinctively reached up to touch it and found his skin had split open, revealing a gash from which blood spurted.

His carotid artery had been severed. He knew without looking that he was done for.

Great weapons require no manual control.

Lance stood with his sword raised, now understanding the vast difference between close-quarter combat and long-range combat. He realized that without experiencing the fight firsthand, he would likely never have grasped what "Apprentice" level strength truly meant.

Lance, who had previously been crouching and firing crossbow arrows from concealment, suddenly felt a new kind of thrill in close combat.

Just one word—exhilarating!

Once his confidence was built and cemented with the blood of his enemies, Lance became aggressive. He set his sights on the man still besieging Balistan and charged in.

Reynard faced off against the leader and his two underlings alone. Soon, the two underlings lay dead by his sword, leaving only the leader desperately holding on.

But when the leader saw his underling killed by the crossbowman—Lance—he realized that continuing to fight was a path to certain death and attempted to feign a move to escape.

"AH!"

At that moment, a short sword suddenly thrust out from behind, stabbing into his lower back. The leader’s attempt to flee abruptly halted. He turned, his face filled with surprise.

When had this happened...?

Before he could react further, Reynard’s sword came crashing down, cutting him down and ending his sinful life.

Dismas, who had been out of sight, appeared. He had blended in among the underlings, lurking beside the leader.

Meanwhile, Lance and Balistan had also dealt with the remaining bandit.

However, they left him alive; Lance needed information to complete his plan.

"Check the surroundings! Beware of sneak attacks!"

Lance picked up a torch that had fallen to the ground and rekindled it. The renewed light illuminated the entire bandit camp.

The ground was covered with dismembered limbs and splattered blood. The painful howls and moans of those still clinging to life filled the air. The thick stench of blood even masked the usual sour smell of the camp.

Having not felt much during the heat of battle, Lance now couldn’t help but feel disgusted when confronted with such a brutal scene.

I’m a civilized man, Lance thought. Why do they have to force my hand?

But in the next second, Lance used his short sword to mercifully end the suffering of those clinging to life. Then, he directly Sacrificed them. Points of light, visible only to him, emerged from the Void, merging into his body and replenishing the [Tribute] that had been considerably expended recently.

"My lord, look," Dismas said.

Lance, holding the torch, approached the corner Dismas indicated. He discovered a side room they had missed. He had expected to find some valuable loot but instead found a person curled up in the corner.

It was a young woman, naked and covered in dirt, with various scars visible on her bare skin.

Judging by her state, she had probably been abducted from a nearby town by the bandits. What had happened to her here was unspeakable. The joy of their recent victory was instantly dampened, and a heavy atmosphere descended upon them.

"These damned bandits!" someone muttered.

"Such evil must be eradicated!" another added.

"Poor child..."

Lance remained silent. He picked up a piece of clothing that was relatively unstained with blood, draped it over her, and said softly, "It’s all right. You’re safe now."

The earlier commotion had been loud, but her reaction had not been strong; she hadn’t even cried out. Yet, Lance’s words seemed to bring a spark of life back to her vacant eyes.

"Safe..." she echoed.

The next second, the woman burst into tears without warning.