Machine

Thus, the way they fought instantly regressed to its most basic and bloodiest level!

"Splurt!" One "Hound" pulled the armor-piercing dagger from his waist, abandoning any attempt to attack the sturdy breastplate. Instead, he viciously stabbed at the gap in his fallen opponent's visor, right where it connected to the neck guard! Blood immediately gushed from the gap.

Elsewhere, two soldiers grappled with each other. One clamped a gloved hand tightly around the other's throat, while the other drew a short sword and frantically stabbed at the relatively vulnerable links beneath his opponent's armpit!

Some went even further, smashing their helmets violently into their opponents' faces, producing dull thuds until both sides were left bloody-headed, yet still refused to stop.

This tiny skirmish zone had already become a deadly quagmire where lives were fought over with teeth and fingernails.

Every inch of ground was soaked in blood. Roars, screams, the clash of metal, and the dull thuds of blades sinking into flesh interwove into a single cacophony.

Karl lowered his spyglass. His face revealed neither joy nor anger, but a trace of approval flashed deep in his eyes.

Most of these "Hounds" had been personally selected by Brendan and Roland from among the refugees they had once taken in.

Many of them had once been elite Border Army soldiers stationed along the kingdom's frontier. They had deserted only because the kingdom's finances had collapsed, their wages had gone unpaid for years, and they could no longer survive. After wandering from place to place, they had eventually ended up in Carnford.

Karl had given them land and stable lives, but more importantly, full, even generous, military pay.

Encouraged by dignity and a full belly, the bloodlust and skills these veterans had suppressed for so long were rekindled.

With full pay supporting