CHAPTER 141: CHAPTER 139: OH, THERE’S AN UNEXPECTED REWARD

They captured Qianqian, it was likely not a coincidence.

Walking along the road, Horn was pondering over this matter in his mind.

However, what he could not determine was under whose orders were they acting.

The signature was the Duke, but it didn’t necessarily mean it was under the Duke’s orders.

Or perhaps the Duke was trying to test through this method?

Carrying a bag full of coins and doubts, Horn walked near the camp gate, only to find that the elderly, women, and children at the entrance had been dispersed.

At some point, the Ten Households Leaders, each leading over a thousand young and strong men, had silently formed a semi-surrounding stance.

The soldiers dressed in black held long spears, mingling among the crowd, and from the cloaked outlines of some people, one could tell there were hidden black, long, straight objects.

Several ruffians lay twitching on the ground while Jeanne held a battle flag, glaring at them fiercely.

The ruffians were clamoring initially, but when they saw Jeanne and the forest of long spears raised among the crowd, those voices grew smaller and smaller.

When Horn stood again at the camp gate, the remaining ruffians had all fled to a distance, leaving only one accompanying the three knights.

The three knights looked nervously in the direction Horn came from, appearing eager to leave first.

"Huh, take this!" Horn threw the bag full of money onto the ground.

The knight signaled to his ruffian companion with his eyes, who then tremblingly urged Qianqian closer.

After walking about half a fathom, the ruffian kicked Qianqian in the back, sending him crashing directly into Horn.

Picking up the money bag on the ground, the ruffian scrambled back toward the knights.

Qianqian murmured, leaning against Horn’s shoulder, "Your Grace, don’t act rashly..."

"Don’t worry, it’s fine now."

Amidst the ruffian’s desperate shout, the three knights who received the money instantly rode away without wishing to wait a moment longer.

Leaving him alone, surrounded in the middle of a thousand wrathful young men.

"Just let them go like that?" Ignoring the ruffian being beaten up, Armand approached Horn and asked in a low voice.

"If we don’t let them go, how will we know where they come from?" Horn said as he secretly nodded towards Jeska, who stood not far away.

......

"And here I thought they were tough, even the Holy Grandson, turned out to be a coward."

"As soon as Snot came, they got scared and handed over the money."

On the country lane, the Snot Knight held the money bag, humming a tune while walking slowly.

Beside him, the ruffians who each took two gold pounds were eagerly discussing where to indulge next.

"I hear some city folks went bankrupt and are running semi-open businesses."

"That’s just perfect, usually they look down on us, I want to see that expression, that look of being humiliated yet helpless!"

"Hahaha!"

While laughing, the urgent sound of hooves came from the bend at the top of the hill.

Raising his guard, Snot looked in that direction.

He saw an old priest riding towards them on horseback, gasping for breath and shouting to Snot before dismounting, "Where is the person? I ask you, where is the person?"

The knight and ruffians exchanged glances, but no one spoke.

"You fools!" The priest, sporting a Paul-style Mediterranean hairstyle, was so angry his beard trembled, "Who told you to send that Secret Faction member to demand money."

"Don’t be angry, Buerwelf Bishop." Snot Knight laughed, "Weren’t you all looking for that Holy Grandson? We originally intended to use this Secret Faction member to exchange for that Holy Grandson..."

"And did you succeed in exchanging? Huh? I ask you, did you exchange?"

"Old thing." As if unable to bear seeing his boss insulted this way, a ruffian behind him shouted, "You weren’t there, how can you talk big, those tens of thousands surrounded you, and there’s a witch, would you dare to speak?"

"You..."

"What? Rude!" Snot Knight showed his rotten teeth, slapping the back of his subordinate’s head before saying to Buerwelf Bishop, "We are all country bumpkins, Bishop, please don’t mind.

I originally wanted to take the opportunity to capture that fake Holy Grandson, but their witch dared to use a spell in broad daylight.

I wasn’t wearing armor today, it’s better to keep a useful body for you rather than fight hard, after all, there will be opportunities in the future.

He can’t stay inside forever, you see, I even managed to get you 250 gold pounds of tax payment."

"Do I need money? Oh." Buerwelf stamped his feet repeatedly, "Alright, you all go back, don’t come out again for this period."

"I meant well, just poorly executed..." Halfway through the sentence, Snot Knight suddenly stopped speaking.

With the wind, he could hear a creaking sound.

The spring was being tightened, the gears turning, the gear clashing in the jagged groove of the firing pin, making a "ticking" sound similar to a clock.

"You stopped halfway through your aphorism, are you expecting applause from me? Pack it..."

Jumping embarrassingly from the horse, Snot Knight simultaneously knocked Buerwelf Bishop to the ground.

"Bang bang bang!"

Nearly twenty spring keys were pulled out, releasing the tightly wound hill copper springs in less than one-tenth of a second, transforming the mana stored within into immense kinetic energy.

Forged iron firing rod emitted a piercing wail, its edge sliding out countless sparks within the barrel, propelling stones and iron sand forward.

"Whoosh——"

The blast from the balance hole made the surrounding leaves rustle, followed by the thunderous roar as the firing rod pushed the projectile.

The storm of iron sand engulfed the area, shaking the surrounding trees with stray bullets.

Under the scattershot, a knight’s chain mail was completely wrecked in the blink of an eye.

The riveted iron rings clinked as they rolled and flew off the horse’s back, scattering everywhere and stained with thick blood.

Rusted iron sand and stones soaked in horse dung crazily tore at his body, piercing through his thick skin and pushing forward through solid flesh.

The knight stiffly fell from his horse, with dozens of blood holes on his chest, bleeding profusely.

Due to the fact that the Extraordinary Knights’ bodies surpassed normal humans, the iron sand mostly couldn’t penetrate their bodies, instead staying within their organs, muscles, and bones, constantly grinding.

It was only then that the screams of agony echoed on the quiet path.

"Ah—I can’t see, I can’t see!"

"My guts, my guts—"

"Gurgle gurgle—"

Some villains covered their gaping head wounds, some held their open chests, while blood mixed with chunks of flesh flowed across the ground.

But after all, it’s scattershot, not aimed precisely, so the energy loss is considerable. This volley only killed or injured about half of them.

The remaining iron sand and stones flew off to who knows where.

"Creak creak."

The devilish sound haunted once more.

Snot Knight kneeled with one knee on the ground, shouting hoarsely: "Brothers, charge! They’re hiding in the bushes on both sides of the slope!"

These villains had a reckless tenacity, seeing their companions’ tragic state, surprisingly seven or eight lightly injured or unharmed ones picked up wolf fang clubs and charged towards the slopes.

But after just a few steps, they slowly stopped again.

On both sides of the slope, spears pierced through the darkness, held by soldiers also wearing black uniforms.

Behind the rows of spearlike trees were black barrels of spring guns, with Holy Gunmen sweating profusely, gripping the gun handles and continuing to turn the spring keys.

The shining spear tips and dark gun barrels dazzled their eyes, making the villains immediately dizzy, some even collapsed to their knees.

"Bang!"

No matter the villains’ state, a tidy thunderous roar sounded once more, leaving few standing villains.

After two rounds of firing, the Long Spear Soldiers began to stride forward, stabbing the injured villains on the ground one by one, and charged at the remaining ones.

Snot Knight, who had just shouted "Brothers, charge," seized this moment to leap up, mounted the horse, and dashed forward.

"Hey! I haven’t mounted yet! I haven’t mounted yet!" Buerwelf Bishop jumped up in despair and shouted.

Snot Knight brushed past him like the wind.

"Hey—" Buerwelf’s shout abruptly stopped as he saw the road ahead.

In front of the charging Snot Knight stood Horn with an indifferent expression, holding a spring gun.

Unlike others, Horn’s spring gun was two meters long, needing a stand and a soldier to support the barrel in front.

This was the Kanni Di Grandlifting Gun specially crafted for him by Rekado and Jeanne.

Due to Horn’s immense mana, he didn’t need any hill copper alloy springs; he used full hill copper springs, and the spring box was more than twice as large as ordinary ones.

Both mass and volume increased.

Seeing Horn foolishly holding a lance to block his path, Snot Knight sneered and urged his horse faster, raising the Knight’s Sword high.

Horn smiled and pulled out a wrench-sized spring key.

As if the switch was flipped.

The shrieking howl from the air pressure hole sounded like the banshee wailing, while the firing rod racing within the barrel seemed like the Thunder God’s wheels.

Even the nearby Holy Gunmen and Long Spear Soldiers covered their ears.

Humans can cover their ears, but warhorses don’t have hands.

"You..."

The bullet shot out, a black shadow swept by, and blood mist dispersed in the air, the knight’s body jolted, and he leaned backward.

The warhorse beneath Snot Knight wailed, tossed him off its back, and also slipped to the ground.

Upon seeing Snot Knight on the ground, only half of his head remained on his neck, from his jaw to the top of the skull had turned into a mass of shattered flesh, haphazardly hanging on tree branches.

His eyeball pierced the sky, bouncing along the ground and rolling to Buerwelf, who reeked of feces and urine.

Buerwelf, originally kneeling and prostrate on the ground, saw the eyeball and was frightened, leaning backward and stepping into his own excrement, sitting heavily on the ground.

"Old Bishop." Amidst the crisp footsteps, the leather boots pressed heavily, crushing the eyeball, Horn smiled gently, "Interested in telling me what’s going on here, hmm?"