When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 891 - 842: Wild Wild Wild Wild Wolf Soldier

Extending his hands with sharp claws, Little Hart collided with the leaping Red Knight.

The heavy weight pulled them both from mid-air, and they crashed onto the solid mortar parapet, rolling onto the ground together.

The fierce impact caused even the thick-skinned werewolf Little Hart to lose his senses for a moment.

But the Red Knight, as if devoid of any pain or emotion, mechanically and stiffly pulled out a dagger, aiming it at Little Hart's mouth.

Little Hart's beast instincts kicked in, and he instinctively bit the wrist of the Red Knight.

At that moment, the filthy and foul-smelling blood poured into his mouth, nearly knocking him unconscious.

Seizing the opportunity, the Red Knight struck Little Hart's right cheek with his elbow.

While Little Hart was dazed, the Red Knight swiftly reached out with his right hand, picked up the dagger, held it in reverse grip, and swung. The blade dangerously grazed Little Hart's neck.

"Grooved!" Both legs kicked against the knight's thigh, causing the Red Knight to tumble sideways.

Still catching his breath, Little Hart watched as the Red Knight, seemingly needing no breath, drew his Knight's Sword in a roof-style heavy chop.

Little Hart rolled away to dodge, while the Knight's Sword struck the parapet with a crisp ringing sound.

Using the rebound force from the wall, the Red Knight swept horizontally again, aiming to cut open Little Hart's soft wolf belly.

"What kind of monster are you? Not needing breath to release strength?" The sword tip tore through chainmail, leaving a red blood trail flowing from the wolf fur.

The Red Knight said nothing, continuing to swing his sword.

His relentless attacks cut off Little Hart's retreat at first, then he stepped forward with his left foot, his right hand wielding the sword aiming to cleave through Little Hart's shoulder blade.

"Bang!"

Just as Little Hart was prepared to take the blow, the Red Knight suddenly sank down softly.

From five meters away, Volovitz nodded at Little Hart, his face pallid.

Little Hart nodded in return, and with effort, jumped onto the parapet.

The furry soles stepped onto the cold parapet, inhaling sharply.

The outlook on the midsection wall was grim.

Using the momentum of the charge, at least a dozen Red Knights had crossed the parapet, landing behind it.

The other Red Knights and Imperial Knights were halted before the parapet by chevaux-de-frise and trenches.

Oddly enough, not to mention Jeska, even Little Hart sensed something was amiss.

Why hadn't these Red Knights used the Divine Art to walk as on flat ground? Surely they hadn't forgotten?

Regardless, these valiant Red Knights charged over the parapet and began their onslaught amid the surging armor.

Formed into a 20x5 array, the long spears and halberds arranged densely, resembling the weaving machines in the Holy Machinery Court Textile Factory.

The entangled and intersecting long spears and halberds dragged and thrust, military sabers and sledgehammers repeatedly struck the Red Knights' bodies and legs.

Yet the valor of these Red Knights defied everyone's expectations; other Extraordinary Knights would show pain, slow down, get distracted, have altered movements.

However, regardless, these Red Knights could complete their hacking and swinging perfectly, speed extremely fast, accuracy very high.

More terrifying, their attack actions seemed endless, with boundless strength.

The spear scratched across breastplate, leaving a shallow mark.

Dieterbert pressed down the rear end of the spear, the bowing spear suddenly straightened, initially almost stationary, accelerated suddenly.

This was the ancestral Extraordinary martial arts of the Norn Mountain People — the Quick Slow Spear.

For their lordship, the Norn Mountain People were in a state of indirect control, the barbaric mountain folks collectively inherited Extraordinary martial arts centered around village cores.

Like Dieterbert's move, a classic Norn Mountain martial art.

Typical spear-thrusting should be one-two-three, yet Dieterbert's was (one-two) (pause) three.

Many Extraordinary Knights were easily pierced through the throat due to being caught off guard, and this Red Knight was no exception.

The Red Knight, with unusually rigid thinking, continued to dodge following the one-two-three rhythm, coincidentally bumping his neck against Dieterbert's spear tip.

Initially, immense resistance was transmitted from the spear tip to the wrist, yet continuing force, then a 'puff' sound of the spear tip penetrating the Red Knight's throat.

"Beautiful!" 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"Amazing, Captain Dieterbert!"

After throat penetration, the Red Knight visibly faltered, while the other Wild Wolf Cultivators swarmed to pull him from the horse's back.

As the captain, Dieterbert naturally did not pursue, merely propped a knee adjusting his breath.

"Dieterbert, behind you!"

He turned around, only to see the bare-headed Devil Horse launching tongue ferociously.

He bent back, exerting all effort to block the front of his chest with the spear, jumping sideways in evasion.

Yet, upon contact with the cloth armor horse helm, immense unimaginable force surged from the Devil Horse's shoulder.

With both feet off the ground, his entire body was flung a distance of two to three meters.

Regaining consciousness from the daze, he was enveloped by Divine Art's glow, reaching mouth and nose, dry blood.

Raising his head, a bloody scene before him.

Past comrades in training ground being flung by hammer-wielding Red Knights; most unbearable to Dieterbert — his entire squad fallen.

Though previously, all from different villages, not well acquainted.

But through earlier training, how much hardship and challenge they shared, how many merits they earned.

They had long become entities second only to kin for Dieterbert, yet now all lying breathlessly on the ground.

"Internal organs jolted to displacement, rib fractures, severe fluid imbalance, immediately carry to rear... Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing with the potion?!"

Not waiting for the accompanying monk to finish, Dieterbert grabbed a spear from the ground, charging again to the killing field.

"Lord Jeska, not yet using the Spring Cannon?" Arm bandaged in bloody gauze, Little Hart pushed past the physician to reach Jeska.

"No." Right hand pressed on the parapet, Jeska replied blandly.

"These Red Knights are too hard to kill, fearless of death, once inside, killing them one by one, we're too late..."

"No."

"At least scatter them, give me breathing room."

"No."

"If not, all our Wild Wolf Brothers will die in vain!"

"Then withdraw the Wild Wolf Soldiers."

"Are there only Wild Wolf Soldiers among Wild Wolf Brothers?" Little Hart, eyes reddened, challenged Jeska for the first time.

Jeska glanced at him: "Are you the Battle Commander or am I the Battle Commander?"

Beside them, Bernardo pulled Little Hart's arm: "Before sunset, each cannon has only seven firing opportunities, must be used at crucial moments."

This couldn't be helped; the enemy's forces were far too many, encircling them easily.

Moreover, including a large number of nimble cavalry that could effortlessly locate draw points.

What's more, the river they once controlled was organized and blocked by Raffel's mobilized laborers an hour ago.

Past kingdom commanders never foresaw such events, but Raffel did.

To retighten the Spring Cannon, likely only at night in the pitch dark hours.

"Is it not crucial now?"

Jeska didn't even glance at Little Hart, merely taking out the telescope, observing the frontline: "This is only the midsection defense of the first parapet, didn't you learn at the military academy that compassion doesn't lead soldiers?"

Little Hart fell silent.

He merely stared dumbly at the bloody battlefield, then again at Jeska's composed demeanor.

How could he withstand such tremendous pressure, such severe casualties?

Many among them were comrades who fought alongside him, yet to watch them perish with open eyes?

Before Little Hart could come to terms, he noticed Jeska's muscles tensing.

Recognizing change in the frontline, Little Hart immediately turned his head.

Unbeknownst when, Red Knights continuously crossing the parapet were heading toward the parapet's gap.

That was the narrow passage left for Wild Wolf Cultivators' assault, and among the seemingly randomly placed obstacles in front of the parapet, the Red Knights unintentionally advanced toward the narrow path.

"I knew it, knew they were a bunch of brainless fools!" Placing down the telescope, Jeska's hand trembled, "Tell the artillerymen to prepare, load buckshot!"