On his mount, Gregor Clegane’s gaze transformed from fury to surprise.
This person can... use magic?!
That cold white light, along with the inexplicable impact, was definitely supernatural power.
But Gregor no longer had the energy to care about supernatural matters.
He relied on his heavy armor and taut muscles, preventing himself from being caught in the rolling of the warhorse.
At this moment, the Little Giant, at least two meters six tall after donning armor, dropped his lance and retrieved his longsword from the wailing warhorse.
This sword’s width alone was as wide as an adult’s palm, a piece of steel that ordinary people couldn’t handle with two hands, yet for Gregor, it was a one-handed weapon, paired with an iron-clad oak shield.
Twenty warriors in iron-plated armor rushed out of the woods.
Among them, ten were mounted, while the rest seemed to have deliberately opted for a foot battle in coordination with Gregor, who had lost his horse.
These individuals also saw the cold white spiritual glow in Lann’s hand, but the battlefield’s intense atmosphere and the desire for rewards and accolades overwhelmed their fear of the unknown.
These warriors lacked much knowledge and wisdom, failing to understand the destruction that one can cause when mastering magic atop top-tier warrior skills.
In their simple, uneducated minds, there was only one thought—he’s a man!
He can be cut down; if hit in the head, he’ll get dizzy. That’s all they needed to know.
Edd staggered to Lann’s side, shouting towards the five warriors on their side who had drawn their swords.
"Go entangle the cavalry! We can’t leave with that shooter around! Fight right here!"
The five riders, engaging ten cavalry, naturally couldn’t spare any effort for Lann and Edd.
Now, the two of them had to deal with over ten opponents, including the Demon Mountain and that skilled archer.
Edd had busted his lip earlier, now tasting blood’s metallic tang with each breath.
His hand on the sword hilt kept clenching and releasing, reflecting his tense state.
He had previously led many allies in the Rebellion, to surround the Royal Forest Iron Guards defending Paradise Tower.
But in the end, they were nearly all slain by Sir Arthur Dayne, famed across the continent as the Dawn Sword.
If not for a successful ambush by his men, Edd wouldn’t even have the chance to stand here today.
The strength of Arthur Dayne left him with deep memories, yet precisely because such a powerful Dawn Sword fell to an ambush during an attack, he knew even more how terrifying it was to fight against many with few.
In a battle with large forces, tactics and strategy can achieve victory with fewer numbers.
But in skirmishes among small groups, survival relies solely on personal skills and equipment.
"We have to take out that Sweetmouth, Lann."
Edd breathed heavily, watching the advancing enemies while whispering to discuss.
"I’m not asking about that magic, it’s not important. What’s crucial now is... do you have a plan?"
"Plan?" The Demon Hunter, expression calm, questioned strangely and then lowered his body as if preparing to sprint.
Edd stared blankly at the sight.
"The plan is—charge straight through!"
With a "scrunch," the sturdy leather soles rubbed against the ground, creating a piercing sound.
The core knowledge of Bear School Swordsmanship allowed Lann’s starting speed to be ghost-like!
Closest and most threatening, Gregor personally witnessed Lann’s footsteps and felt his scalp tingle.
This was a feeling unfamiliar to him, one he typically inflicted upon his enemies.
Subconsciously, Gregor raised his oak shield in front of him.
With a "bang," his arm, as thick as an ordinary person’s thigh, suddenly felt heavy.
A finely crafted longsword cleaved into the iron-clad oak shield!
Usually, when Gregor parried an enemy attack, even multiple enemies combined, using just the arm strength to brace the shield was sufficient.
Far exceeding expected strength, Gregor’s molars clenched tightly, and his supporting leg behind him instinctively bent!
For the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms, this was unimaginable.
"However..." Beneath the barrel-shaped helmet, Gregor’s clenched jaw twisted into a slight icy grin.
"Nearly comparable to me!"
In pure strength confrontation, Gregor was astonished, yet as a trained knight, he quickly regained composure.
Regarding the massive intimidating longsword, he did not use the blade to slash at Lann. On the contrary, he aimed to use the pommel to strike Lann on the head!
The long blade was easier to block. Usually, he could use his strength to press through the enemy’s defense and drive the blade into their flesh.
But confronting a comparable force, Gregor chose to deploy the more agile and hard-to-defend pommel at close range.
Even when possessing equivalent strength, I’m still the strongest!
He was born for killing, reveling in the act. He could even casually press his brother’s face into the brazier, killing his father and sister.
Crushing a baby’s head with his hand, and while still bloody, insult the baby’s mother.
In terms of murder, no one was more experienced than him!
But just as Gregor mentally celebrated this adaptability, he saw Lann’s peaceful cat-like eyes.
In such fierce confrontation, this gaze from the opponent could almost directly translate to—
Gregor Clegane deployed all his martial skills in overpowering others, his crude technique allowing Lann to fully grasp it upon the first contact.
"Force movement analysis complete, please cast spell according to the directional cue..."
Mentos thoughtfully marked an arrow.
Lann, amidst the opponent’s startled expression, suddenly bent low avoiding the attack, while simultaneously approaching the opponent’s sword-wielding wrist with his left hand.
With a "thump," Gregor’s massive form seemed to be yanked by an invisible hand; his originally swinging pommel accelerated into a vigorous slash!
The long and wide steel sword immediately cleaved through two soldiers charging at Edd beside him!
One was severed in half, the other’s spinal vertebrae was snagged by the blade, slimy innards spilling from the gaping wound at the waist.
Gregor cared not for his soldiers, only enraged by the mockery.
Tricked by those Wizard’s petty tricks!
Ignoring the soldiers’ agonizing cries, Gregor forcibly extracted his sword amidst the grinding of bone shards against steel.
Then turned back, attempting to slash at Lann.
But perhaps due to his time spent confidently traversing battlefields in his heavily armored form, he failed to recognize the danger of exposing his back to an equally powerful foe...
Lann’s boot adorned with iron plate squarely kicked behind Gregor’s knee, causing the Black Iron Little Giant to stagger.
And meeting his staggered head was Lann’s clenched fist.
If this punch landed, the combined force of Lann and Gregor’s weight would likely turn the head inside the helmet into paste with the impact.
Just then, a sharp arrow zipped through the night sky, aimed at Lann’s unprotected neck!