Help! I don't feel my...!

All the inhabitants of the Eastern Borderlands knew what was to the east of their home.

The eastern regions were not only the frontiers of the Kingdom of Rogar but also the civilized world.

Dead Wasteland cut the continent in half from the Dead Sea in the north to the Black Mountains in the south. No living man knew what was beyond the Wasteland, and no one knew how it came to be. But there was undoubtedly a powerful civilization there, the ruins of which could be seen today.

The crumbling palaces and towers still shimmered in the distance, tempting with their treasures many fools who, once they entered the Wasteland, would never come back.

Without a plan, a magister would not have set off to death, that was for sure. So Aron calmed down a bit. The procession was approaching the city border, where several of the baron's men with three pack horses loaded with provisions were waiting for them.

"I have told my men to prepare more provisions. Just in case. As they say, prudent always insured." Count Komes laughed and gave the men a few more commands.

At that time, one of the two knights Aron did not know rode up to him.

"I am Arnold. So far, I have been in charge of logistics during my master's trip. I suppose the Count assigned you to help us. What do they call you?"

"I'm Aron. I think so, but no one has told me what to do."

Arnold laughed and patted the young man.

"It's simple. You see these three horses. From now on, they are under your care. Follow the magister's instructions, and you will surely be fine. If you have any questions, ask me. And don't piss off that guy, his name is Rymar, and he's always pissed off." Arnold pointed to the pack horses and the second knight standing by the magister.

Arnold was probably thirty years old and was a tall man. For Aron, he seemed to be a nice guy. The other knight Rymar was much bigger and seemed brutal.

"And where are we going? What is our task?"

"You don't have to worry about that. We have to ensure the safety of the magister, but judging by your equipment, you would probably not be any use anyway, so focus on the horses."

When Aron and Arnold had finished talking, the Count's conversation with the magister was also over.

Wasting no time, the procession of knights and the magister set off to the east. The Count stood for a while, waved to the departing warriors, and then returned to the castle.

The areas east of the city of Komes were primarily uninhabited.

The convoy traveled along a straight dirt road until some fields were still in the area. Spring was visible all around, and everything was slowly turning green. After an hour's ride, however, the landscape began to change.

The roads began to give way to the wilderness, and a forest was in front of them. It was said that this forest stretches across the border of Wastelands as far as the Hakas Empire in the north.

Many scum had their hiding places there at one time, and to this day, the forest was not safe. If Aron was here alone, he would surely not go there. However, the convoy traveled continuously under the leadership of Rymar. Everyone prepared their weapons and, for his safety, surrounded the magister.

As they were approaching a small ravine, Rymar raised his hand and said.

"We have company. Master and horses inside! Defend the master at all costs! "

He hadn't finished speaking yet as the arrow flew towards him, but before it could strike him, Rymar picked up the shield he had attached to the saddle and blocked the arrow.

Suddenly, more than ten bandits dressed in rags jumped out of the woods. Most were armed with bronze spears or axes and shields.

Sorel charged into the closest bandits, ignoring Rymar's orders.

"Fools! Even if there are twice as many of you, I will show you hell today, for I am the undefeated Sir Sorel Degrlund!!"

The rest of the knights lined up around the magister, but Aron was about 10 meters away, and two bandits blocked his path from the others. His task was twofold, he had to protect the magister, but he also had to safeguard the horses with their provisions. If he had galloped away to help the others, the bandits would probably have stolen the horses immediately.

"Kill everyone! Spare no one!" Shouted the charging thugs.

The two of them advancing in Aron's direction did not give him much time to think.

One was armed with a bronze ax and was only two meters from him.

Aron instinctively drew his sword and slashed it towards the wrist of the attacking bandit. The man screamed, and his ax was now on the ground.

Frightened by the sudden violence, Aron's horse reared up and knocked down the other bandit with its hoof, simultaneously throwing Aron out of the saddle. However, his years of training showed in the following moments.

He got up quickly and saw that the first bandit was in shock and was already recovering and grasping the weapon in his working hand.

Aron gathered the aura in his legs and, with a powerful kick, knocked him to the ground. Then he jumped to the downed bandit and pierced his chest with a smooth movement.

The feeling of the sword entering the bandit's body was disgusting. Aron realized that he had just killed a man but could not afford a breakdown. The bandit that had been knocked down by a horse was rising to his feet, ready to kill him.

Aron didn't have much aura left after he kicked, and his opponent had an ax and shield. Without waiting for the man to finish standing, he moved toward the opponent and delivered a blow to his head.

The bandit was ready for it and threw his shield up to block a blow that never fell. At the last moment, Aron changed the trajectory of his strike and stabbed his sword deep into the opponent's thigh.

At this point, the defense of the bandit crumbled.

Aron yanked the sword with another quick movement and thrust it into the opponent's throat.

Aron used all the aura he had accumulated in the last hit. Tired, he looked around at the others. The rest of the knights also dealt with the criminals, some of whom tried to escape when they realized they had no chance. When he saw this, he fell to his knees and vomited.

They were not the strongest bandits the knights had dealt with, but some had a bronze aura.

To the armored iron knights, they were like grain ready to be cut.

Chainmail was able to block practically all blows with a bronze weapon. None of the bandits even came close to the magister. The undergrowth was covered with corpses, and more than a dozen bodies lay around the convoy.

At this point, everyone noticed that someone was missing from the formation.

Sorel, who at the beginning, charged toward the opponents and had blocked the path of one of them.

The fight was short-lived. The bandit had knocked him off his horse with a single spear thrust. The chainmail, gambeson underneath, and the fact that Sorel was an iron knight saved his life. He only passed out, but the bandit thought he had killed the 'undefeated Sir Sorel Degrlund.'

Without checking, the bandit had rushed toward the rest of his companions to help. Fortunately, it had ended badly for him.

When Sorel fell, his pants had hooked on a branch and tore them open. And only regained consciousness after the skirmish; he was now vomiting alternately with crying. His horse trotted calmly beside its master, curling on the ground.

"I'm going to die, right?! Certainly die!!! Help me, please!!! I will do anything, but I don't want to die!! Please!! Help! I don't feel my ass!!"