CHAPTER 53: 53. DRAW SWORD FROM BEHIND

Philip didn’t want to face Lann when the situation was still unclear.

It wasn’t about whether they could win or not.

That’s not even a question, as a dozen cavalry in Velen would normally have no match on these lands.

Moreover, these cavalry had all been seasoned veterans from the battlefield.

Back when the law enforcement team hunted down Bordeaux, even without Lann’s involvement, it was estimated that the loss of one person would be enough to claim the Demon Hunter Master’s head.

The crossbows would disrupt the enemy’s attack and movement, while the melee soldiers would rush in and cut them down.

Or the melee soldiers would constrain the enemy’s position and defense, and the crossbows would take them out from afar.

Cold weapons against cold weapons, having more people makes sense!

What truly made Philip reluctant to face him was... if Lann really went berserk, what would it cost to defeat him?

There were no mages accompanying them, and Philip and his men hadn’t seen much of the Demon Hunter’s magic.

On the battlefield, a lack of intelligence had to be paid with lives.

Philip wasn’t just managing these dozen cavalry, they were also the foundation of his status with the knight.

Losing even one would be an unacceptable weakening of his position.

Moreover, these soldiers had generally developed a good impression of Lann during previous collaborations.

Including Philip himself, nobody wanted to turn swords against a friendly acquaintance, or at least a familiar face.

Everyone preferred to befriend good people.

Especially in this messed-up world, that little bit of reassurance was precious.

~~~~~~

Lann followed the scent and footprints, climbed two hills in the hilly region, and crossed a stream.

He discovered another small encampment.

His cold cat-eyes were concealed behind thick overlapping forests, leaving Bopai safely behind.

This time was not about asking for directions or dealing with soldiers blocking the way.

As Lann saw this camp for the first time, he made up his mind—

This time, blood must be shed from the start!

The structure of this camp was similar to the previous military outpost.

Large tarpaulin tents, storage boxes, various sacks, a bonfire...

But there was a slight difference.

On that bonfire was a roasted human arm.

A few people were chatting and laughing, eagerly waiting for the food on the bonfire to become ready.

As for the hand attached to the arm, someone sitting inside the tent was carefully trimming bits of flesh and bone.

It looked like this would become another qualified hand necklace.

The seven people in the camp mostly wore just animal-skin vests on their upper bodies, with their chests exposed.

Some only wore shorts, while others dressed like farmers, with trousers tied tightly at the legs with rope.

Overall—they had no armor.

As for weapons, they mostly had a Velen Longsword at their waist, or simply a wooden club wrapped in cloth with a few nails haphazardly hammered at the striking end, passing off as a Wolf Fang Club.

"Sir, there are seven people in the camp, one of whom is unobservable due to the line of sight, but his footsteps are very clear."

Mentos reminded, knowing that Lann was also observing.

No matter the main observation results, it had to provide its own report as a reference supplement.

"Hmm, I noticed that."

Lann’s voice was as calm as his gaze.

"Please note, sir, based on the positioning of the person outside our line of sight, I estimate a 70% likelihood of him being a ranged enemy."

"It’s irrelevant, Mentos."

Lann started to move.

He didn’t sneak, didn’t dash, but walked forward leisurely, like a stroll, gently parting branches and weeds before him.

"Completely... irrelevant."

The young man drew his steel sword from behind, twisting his neck slightly.

He had seen the combat capabilities of cannibals.

They weren’t abysmal, just... reassuring.

They weren’t professional soldiers trained and tested in killing techniques.

Back when Willis sprung an ambush, one cavalry and two archers could be enough, even if the cavalry was killed at first sight by unfamiliarity with Magic Seal.

The remaining two archers should still pose a significant threat to Lann.

But Lann realized immediately that the two archers had no cooperation whatsoever.

No shooting sequence, no idea of containment or forced positioning, then seizing opportunity to kill.

After all, they were just a bunch of adept hiders.

And now, this bunch didn’t even have a piece of armor!

The clear sound of a sword being drawn resonated unmistakably in the forest.

The sound of branches being pushed aside also mixed in.

The cannibals quickly became alert.

Although not professional soldiers, they lived off killing, and they had the necessary vigilance.

A man with a bulbous nose pulled out a Velen Longsword from his waist, hunching into an attack stance and moving towards the source of the sound.

"Hey, someone delivered food today!"

He spoke loudly, but the careful grip on the sword and the serious look in his eyes showed he wasn’t letting his guard down.

Yet, as Lann himself had said.

Whether the enemy was serious or slack, it didn’t matter.

The sound of snapping branches grew louder.

A figure dressed in heavy armor emerged slowly from under the shade.

Due to the light, a pair of leather boots with steel greaves appeared first.

From the dim light, it could be seen that the man’s sword was slung behind him, and he was now drawing it out.

Bordeaux felt a momentary panic when he first saw the silhouette.

Because he knew well the difference between wearing armor and not wearing it, between heavy armor and light armor.

But as soon as he saw the number of people and the sword, he laughed.

One person? With a sword slung on his back?

Even if he’s wearing heavy armor, this guy is just food delivered to his door.

"Aha!"

Bordeaux laughed as he lunged forward.

The inferior Velen Longsword in his hand moved from his side, tracing a shaky arc.

The sword wasn’t aimed at Lann’s body; instead, it cut through the air in front of him.

This wasn’t a sword swung to injure, but to deflect a potential downward strike from Lann.

In sword combat, the scene of two swords locked against each other isn’t common.

Because besides the action of dragging and cutting, injuring with a sword, like boxing, relies on the instant impact force driving the blade into the body.

And in response to slashes, a swatting-like block is a better choice.

It saves energy and time.

Bordeaux didn’t expect to break through the heavy armor with his sword; he had even decided.

No matter whether Lann could draw his sword from behind or not, once Bordeaux got close, he would abandon his Longsword and instead use his body to grapple his opponent.

An armor plus a person, this weight would make even a Master Knight turn into a weakling!

A motionless Heavy Armor Warrior could easily be knifed to death.

Bordeaux’s companions in the camp were very familiar with him, and they instantly grasped his intention.

They grinned with mouths full of tendons and blood.

Each took a few steps, some preparing to pounce when Bordeaux grappled the Heavy Armor Warrior, adding weight to the struggle.

While others, already grinning viciously, drew wooden clubs and Longswords, ready to let some blood from this delivered meal.

Nobody expected any surprises; there are seven of us against one.

Furthermore, the opponent has to reach behind to draw his sword, and hasn’t even drawn half of it!

Really, who knows what kind of idiot would wear his sword on his back.

No one felt nervous.

Everyone felt victory was in their grasp.

But unexpected things always happen at times like this.

Bordeaux only then clearly saw the face of the approaching person under the shade of the trees.

The calm, exotic face didn’t make him hesitate for a moment.

He had seen many unfamiliar races, and he didn’t care.

But a dazzling, brilliant cold gleam suddenly descended rapidly from the upper edge of his vision!

So fast that Bordeaux thought his floaters were acting up again.

But the icy sensation on his body told him — something was very wrong!

Panic, fear, emotions sprouted from the bottom of his heart in a moment.

A moment, like that cold gleam!

"Ding—thud!"

First, there was a clash of steel; Bordeaux’s block did intercept the downward slash.

But who said blocking... means you would be able to block it effectively?

The Bear School Steel Sword cleaved down while pressing Bordeaux’s Longsword!

And the cost was merely that the blade expected to vertically cleave from the top of the head was nudged to the shoulder.

Bone was shattering.

It wasn’t chopped off; it was crushed!

The sword blade embedded itself into Bordeaux’s shoulder flesh as though his flesh and bones were nothing but soft mud!

Bone and muscle tangled together, and torn blood vessels spurting blood in jets.

Everyone present, those preparing to pounce, those starting to draw weapons... they all froze after that cleave.

"Am I... dreaming?"

A cannibal murmured. His dynamic vision completely missed the man drawing his sword!

One second, the sword was half in the scabbard. The next, his companion was cleaved from the shoulder, and the blade’s depth... seemed to have chopped through several ribs!

"Ah." Bordeaux seemed stunned because everything happened so suddenly.

The first sound was a dazed exclamation, almost giving the impression he didn’t feel much pain.

But on the second one...

"Ah!!!"

A scream.

Accompanied by his swiftly contorting face, the scream burst forth, making everyone’s brain buzz!

Lann expressionlessly pressed down on the sword hilt, forcing Bordeaux to kneel before him.

Then the young man raised his foot and kicked the opponent’s chest.

With a light "slip" sound.

The sword was withdrawn from the body, along with a fountain of blood.

Bordeaux collapsed to the ground, the severe blood loss and lung damage making it impossible for him to scream again.

The Demon Hunter held the sword and flexed the shoulder that had just swung it.

"Alright, you scoundrels."

His cat-like eyes, faintly bright in the shade, swept over the remaining people.

"I’ve finished drawing my sword."

"Let’s begin."