Lord of Rot

"Fall back!" Leech shouted, wheeling his horse around.

His equestrian combat skills were superb. A single, subtle movement was all it took for his warhorse to obey, allowing him to leverage its power for even greater agility.

The Black Cavalry that had pulled back had already regrouped and were charging once more. Even as a Transcendent, Leech had no desire to be swept up in the torrent of a Knight’s charge.

The situation on the battlefield reversed in an instant. Now it was Leech and his men who were retreating while the Black Cavalry charged after them.

But Leech had no intention of simply fleeing. He grabbed another javelin, and with a sudden twist of his body, hurled it without even seeming to aim. The weapon whistled through the air and struck a warhorse squarely in the head.

The enemy warhorse was charging so furiously, it was as if it had recklessly thrown itself headfirst onto Leech’s javelin.

The javelin smashed into the horse’s head.

Brains splattered.

The horse’s front legs gave out, and it collapsed without so much as a whinny. The Black Cavalryman on its back was thrown into the stream. Fortunately, he was wearing armor. While the fall left him completely dazed, his life was not in danger.

The Black Cavalryman staggered to his feet. Although the night was clear and the moon bright, it was incredibly difficult to discern a figure in black armor rising from the ground. The Black Cavalry behind him were in mid-charge. It was doubtful they could even see him, but even if they did, they couldn’t possibly swerve to avoid him.

THUNDER!

With a thunderous rumble, iron hooves trampled straight over him.

The fallen Black Cavalryman was instantly sent flying a great distance by his own comrades. When he landed, his head was twisted completely around, the back of it resting against his chest. He was as dead as could be.

Using this diversion, Leech and his men had already galloped back to their lines. The Soldiers automatically parted, allowing them to return to the rear.

The line closed again, ready to face the enemy head-on.

Having witnessed Leech’s peerless display on the battlefield, every man was fired up, their excitement reaching a fever pitch.

’The invincible Black Cavalry? In Baron Porcupine’s hands, they’re no different from chickens waiting to be slaughtered!’

The initial charge, the second charge, and Leech’s counter-pursuit had all transpired in a very short amount of time.

All the Soldiers saw was their noble lord displaying his divine might, and the scales of victory tipping toward them!

With their numbers sharply reduced, the Black Cavalry’s charge no longer had the power to break the defensive line. When one of them reached the front, some twenty militiamen armed with pitchforks would swarm him. After four or five men were trampled to death, they would finally manage to kill the Knight.

The Black Cavalry were no longer a major threat. Leech continued to pick them off from the rear with his javelins, but unfortunately, a stationary throw lacked the power for a one-hit kill. Once his own Soldiers swarmed a target, it became even harder for him to get a clear shot.

He drew his sword and went after the Black Cavalrymen who, despite being surrounded, were still managing to slaughter his troops.

Just then, one such Black Cavalryman was like a tiger among sheep. A Mercenary had managed to kill his mount, but the Knight simply got back up, gripped his longsword with both hands, and began to slash wildly.

A single swing of his sword shattered pitchforks and lopped the heads off iron rakes.

He could kill a militiaman in just two or three blows.

When the militiamen and Mercenaries struck him, their dull-edged weapons couldn’t even penetrate his armor.

The men on the outer edge of the circle were afraid to charge in, while those on the inside couldn’t break through his defense. It looked like more than twenty men were besieging one, but in reality, he was the one methodically cutting them down.

"Make way!" Leech shouted.

He pulled on the reins. The moment the militiamen heard his command and scattered, his horse—as if reading his thoughts—spun around sharply in a powerful drift.

With his left leg hooked around the saddle and his sword in his right hand, Leech leaned far to the right, practically hanging sideways from his mount.

His sword swept upward from below, perfectly channeling the momentum from his horse’s sharp turn.

The Black Cavalryman raised his sword, trying to block.

Gleaming in the pale moonlight, Leech’s longsword swept through the air and collided with the Black Cavalryman’s blade.

CLANG! The Knight’s sword felt as if it had struck a charging mountain. It was torn from his grasp and sent flying far into the distance.

But Leech’s sword didn’t stop, continuing its crescent arc.

A black object flew into the air.

With a THUD, a headless body fell to its knees on the ground.

The Black Cavalryman that more than twenty men had failed to defeat was dispatched by Leech in a single strike. Staring at Leech in his bone armor, the crowd saw not a man, but an Undead Knight, a reaper of lives.

"Hah!" Leech spurred his horse onward, charging forward to help another group.

Another Black Cavalryman found an opportunity to counterattack, but his blade only produced a dull THUD against Leech’s dragon bone plate armor. The man didn’t even sway in his saddle.

The others raised their weapons and hacked at the distracted Knight, using their superior numbers to cut him down.

Most of the Black Cavalry couldn’t turn their horses around to escape. All they could do was swing their swords wearily from the saddle until they were run through by spears and pitchforks, dripping with blood. Even their warhorses were inevitably riddled with wounds.

Victory was certain!

’If Philip and the other Transcendents hadn’t left, but had charged alongside us... with our six Transcendents, we probably could’ve finished off all fifty-plus Black Cavalrymen at a minimal cost.’

This battle gave Leech a general understanding of the impact Transcendents had on warfare.

’The era of winning simply by piling up cannon fodder is over.’

The carrion bird sent back another signal: the enemy infantry had finally arrived. They never expected their invincible Black Cavalry to be defeated so easily. What awaited them was not the scattered, broken remnants of an army dispersed by a cavalry charge, but a pack of bloodthirsty wolves.

Leech pulled on his reins, spinning his horse around twice on the spot. He raised his longsword high and roared, "Everyone! Charge!"

Their morale soaring after taking down the Black Cavalry, the Mercenaries and militiamen shouldered their pitchforks, sickles, and rakes and charged forward with a roar.

The Porcupine Soldiers were by far the fiercest fighters in the charge. As for the enemy soldiers—who, it turned out, were from Pebble Castle and numbered only a hundred men—they were completely suppressed and routed.

The gloom was swept away entirely.

Thanks to their advantage in numbers and morale, the lopsided infantry engagement was brought to a swift conclusion.

"Clear the battlefield!" Leech ordered.

Clearing the battlefield was what the Mercenaries and militiamen loved most. Swords, armor, personal valuables—it all belonged to whoever could grab it first.

The ground was littered with headless corpses and bodies missing hands and feet.

Others had their bellies sliced open, intestines spilling onto the ground. They weren’t dead yet, still struggling and crying for help.

There was nothing anyone could do to help, other than to offer a quick sword stroke to end their suffering.

Blood dyed the ankle-deep stream red, but under the moonlight, it just looked like a pool of cold, dark water.

Leech watched all of this calmly. ’The greatest peace in the world,’ he thought, ’is when your enemy is dead and you are alive.’

A militiaman’s eyes lit up when he spotted the body of a Black Cavalryman on the ground. He prepared to strip the iron armor off the corpse. ’With this armor,’ he thought, ’I’ll have a better chance of surviving the next battle. And after the war, I can sell it for a good price!’

Just as he approached, two Porcupine Soldiers came over and unceremoniously dragged the corpse away.

They lifted it so roughly that blood and intestines SPLASHED all over the ground.

"Y-You people!" the militiaman stammered indignantly. "I saw it first!"

One of the Porcupine Soldiers shot him a cold glance. The militiaman clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, but ultimately decided to swallow his anger.

Incidents like this were happening all over the battlefield. The militiamen and Mercenaries discovered that the Porcupine Soldiers were snatching up all the Black Cavalry corpses, even the dead warhorses, leaving only the bodies of the common foot soldiers for everyone else. The loot from an infantryman was worth far, far less than that from a member of the cavalry.

And while he had been arguing, the few infantry corpses had already been picked clean by others.

Some considered arguing with the Porcupine Soldiers, but seeing them clad in heavy armor, polishing their cold, gleaming weapons, everyone quickly abandoned the thought.

’We can’t win a fight against them. Better to just forget it.’

As for asking their own noble leaders for help, that was even more out of the question. The surviving noble Knights were all clustered around Leech, following his every move as if he were their sole commander.

The noble lords couldn’t care less about the interests of a militiaman.

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