A Bloody Battle

All the wolfriders had their eyes on Abel, the short, underage knight who was wielding a ridiculously large lance with him. They could tell that he was a novice knight, but something about him didn't add up. 

Sure, Abel was a novice knight, but what kind of novice knight could kill five wolfriders in an instant? One high-ranked wolf rider. One intermediate wolf rider. Three novice wolfriders. That's five in less than a second, and a child did it.

The horse that Abel was riding on was becoming much more agitated than before. It seemed kind of relaxed back then, but the testosterone was starting to kick in. 

"My honor is my life!" Abel screamed, and his horse sped up into the wolfriders' troop. The large, heavy lance in his hand was like a demon's hand, flicking away everything that it had scraped. Because of Abel's terrible strength (and the effect of the lance itself), tens of wolfriders were sent flying away from their position.