Chapter 26: A wounded beast can be scary

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North Beltir...

In a wide flat grassland, a well-built knight with brown hair and green eyes in black hunting leather armor with a full set of steel armor and a gauntlet in his left arm, while holding a short sword on the other hand is in a defensive stance facing an older looking knight in a light steel looking body armor, armed with a long sword and short sword.

Brugeur felt something was out of place at the campsite, yet he still decided to arm himself and find out what it is, humans are naturally curious beings at the same time the young lord is a fighter and a knight at that. Subsequently, when he found Morrow out and realized the predicament he was in, he held himself back even though the young lord was fuming with rage inside.

Brugeur is an experienced commander of several battles, so far the clash with Torum was his second-biggest fight and the greatest at that, that is why as a military leader he can almost gauge his odds of winning a battle in mere moments. The man in front of him is chiefly a guard and an instructor that didn't really go around and fight much in wars, he was mainly called Evgrad's sword instructor, however, he can still be ranked among the top knights in Evgrad when fighting one on one.

Brugeur thought of something and asked his opponent, "it's that eight-year-old boy, your son with that bitch!", Morrow stood quietly appearing to be more serious than earlier. 'He's coming', it seems he agitated the senior knight by confirming who the man's bastard is, 'But he started the talk about the boy first. Pathetic'.

With both auras released, Morrow went in for a quick stab using the long sword in his right hand, the young lord parried the attack with his left arm, while the senior knight followed with an upward stab to Brugeur's right hips using the weapon in the older man's left, that was blocked by the younger knight's short sword.

Brugeur chose to stand his ground, defend and wait for an opportunity to counter, the young heir is still wounded and he wouldn't want to run around, but at the same time, he is also anxious and doesn't want to drag the fight too long since he'll probably exhaust himself faster than his opponent.

For thirty minutes, Morrow would walk in a circle around Brugeur and would quickly do a series of stabs and slashes towards the younger knight, which the latter would be able to defend to even while incurring a number of shallow wounds and cuts. The young lord stayed composed and focused watching Morrow's every move, 'I just need one good counter, and I'll leave here alive", he thought.

Morrow is becoming impatient, apparent by his more frequent and aggressive lunges that turned to attacks, on the other hand, even though Brugeur is trying to stay composed he is also becoming agitated, anyone would probably be if you're being pummeled over and over again.

Brugeur's glare is more intense now, thinking, 'I'll end you! Even if I have to sacrifice an eye or an arm for it'.

Brugeur saw Morrow doing a short hacking move with his right arm, the young lord decided to dash forward, the first time being on offensive in this fight. Morrow's downward hack failed, his arm just hit Brugeur shoulder, who is now almost hugging him, the young lord's left arm tried blocking Morrow's left blade, which went through the opening of his gauntlet stabbing deep into his hand. However, Brugeur was able to stab Morrow in the gut with his short sword, but the stab wasn't deep enough so he tried pushing, tripping the old knight, they both fell to the ground where the younger knight succeeded in thrusting his blade deeper into the older man's gut.

The younger knight tried sitting on top of the senior knight who is now trying hard to catch his breath that is becoming shallower every second and said, "sparring can't compare to real life and death fight, old man! I'm sending you off with a life lesson"

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Fifteen minutes ago at the campsite...

"Sire, there is no one here", a lightly armored soldier wearing a black cloak reported.

A man wearing a black cloak over a brown leather suit who appears to be the leader of the group looked around the campsite, the horses and other essentials are still around, 'did they saw us coming and hid somewhere closeby. Even though we tried approaching discreetly'.

"Sire we found them, but... I think it's better to see for yourself milord", another man in black cloak appeared, kneeled, and made his report.

The group walked while trying to make less sound as possible to the edge of the wooded area to a wide flat grassland, in a distance two men seems to be fighting.

"Should we go surround them, Sire?"

"No. Let's wait and see, spread out and wait for my orders".

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Brugeur is now lying flat on his back trying to catch his breath while wrapping his left hand with some cloth he tore from his trouser. He felt really exhausted and is about to drift off to sleep when he heard some light footsteps on the grass coming closer.

Brugeur forced himself up to his feet, he looked around and, 'Fu--! I'm surrounded', the young lord yelled in his mind.

More than fifty armed men in black cloaks had already surrounded him from all sides, and in the distance, there are more men in cloaks on horseback coming.

The encirclement becomes closer and closer and only stopped when there are only about five meters between him and the newcomers.

'No need for words huh?', Brugeur thought when three men from the group step forward and wielded their weapons towards him.

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Twenty minutes later...

Brugeur is standing all bloodied and looked like he's about to pass out, deep cuts and stab wounds are visible all over his body, a short sword is even visibly stabbed and remained on his right shoulder. Lying next to him are lifeless bodies of seven men, while now hundreds of armed black-cloaked men surround him.

"This bastard, he killed two knights and five amateurs, Sire. Let us just swarm him then".

"Stop! Tie him up and if he's still breathing when we reach Reim, treat his injuries", the leader commanded.

"But your grace. He killed our men!"

"Should I repeat myself, Ronan?"

"No your grace, I mean yes your grace, I mean..."

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