Kobold Attack

"Kid, you sure sleep soundly!"

Before Roland was fully awake, a low reprimand reached his ears.

He looked up blankly, only to see Peyton staggering towards him, his body covered in blood.

Under the bright moonlight, Peyton was drenched in blood, even his beard beaded with dark red droplets.

He casually wiped his face, smearing the blood and making him look even more ferocious.

"Stop gawking and grab your weapon!"

Roland quickly got up, grabbed the pack Peyton threw at him, and drew the iron sword within, holding it in his hand.

"Uncle Peyton, what happened?"

"What else could it be?"

Peyton spat, then swung his iron sword violently, carving a blindingly bloody gash in the ground.

"Those monsters from Dawn Territory are attacking, damn bastards."

As soon as he spoke, a sharp "crack" sounded from outside the fence.

Three hunched figures vaulted over the barrier, their yellow, vertical pupils glowing eerily in the night.

They were about half a person's height, covered in rough brown fur, with grotesque kobold heads above their necks.

"Kobolds!"

Seeing the man-bodied, dog-faced monsters before him, Roland's heart involuntarily pounded faster.

Although he had heard countless rumors about these creatures from others since his transmigration, this was his first time encountering them in person.

"Kid, you take the one on the right, I'll handle the two on the left!"

Before Peyton finished speaking, he had already shot forward like an arrow released from a bow.

Seeing this, Roland took a deep breath, kept his eyes fixed on the kobold in front of him, and slowly moved his feet, maintaining a safe distance.

His sword tip tilted slightly, adopting the standard starting stance of Lionheart Swordsmanship.

The kobold hunched its back, its rough claws gripping a rusty short axe. It tilted its head, watching the human's strange movements.

Then, it suddenly roared and attacked, the short axe whistling through the air as it swung down.

Seeing this, Roland nimbly sidestepped and blocked.

The moment the iron sword met the axe blade, his tiger's mouth jolted, and he almost lost his grip on the sword hilt.

"Such brute strength!"

Roland was astonished, and immediately retreated half a step to create distance.

But the kobold pressed its advantage, swinging three consecutive axes.

Roland fought and retreated, deliberately slowing his force on the third block and using the recoil to leap back lightly.

"This guy..."

Noticing that the kobold had to adjust its breathing after each swing and that its turning posture was clumsy, a glint flashed in Roland's eyes.

"Plenty of strength, but lacking agility..."

Once he identified the kobold's weakness, Roland immediately changed his strategy.

When the axe blade swung again, he no longer met it head-on. Instead, he ducked under it, simultaneously slashing his sword upwards and leaving a bloody gash on the kobold's ribs.

In pain, the kobold roared, its attacks becoming fiercer but also more chaotic.

Roland, like a matador, weaved and circled, the deadly art of Lionheart Swordsmanship displayed to its fullest in his hands. There were no flashy moves; each sword strike aimed directly for a vital point.

When the kobold's full-power chop missed again, he seized the opening and lunged, his blade stabbing into the creature's throat like a viper.

As warm blood sprayed onto his face, a golden subtitle simultaneously appeared before his eyes.

[As you engage in combat with enemies, related insights increase, Lion Swordplay gains three experience points]

"Is this... the effect of the bonus trait [Theory and Practice]?"

The thought flashed through his mind, and Roland quickly looked to the side.

He saw Peyton retreating under the assault of two kobolds, in grave danger.

Seeing this, Roland took a deep breath and stepped forward.

One of the kobolds sensed his movement and was struck in the shoulder by his diagonal slash as it turned.

The kobold let out a piercing howl, and its companion immediately abandoned Peyton, charging at Roland with a spiked mace.

With his previous experience fighting kobolds, Roland deftly sidestepped the heavy mace and precisely sliced the kobold's knee with his sword.

As the kobold stumbled to its knees, he followed up with a spinning slash, the sharp blade cutting through its throat.

The previously injured kobold tried to launch a surprise attack, but Peyton, having recovered his breath, stabbed it through the heart from behind.

"A beautiful counterattack!"

Although Peyton shouted with praise, his eyes couldn't hide his shock.

This sixteen-year-old youth, who had only recently mastered Lionheart Swordsmanship and applied it in actual combat, remained remarkably calm and composed even when facing ferocious monsters.

Compared to him, his own decades of life felt utterly wasted.

Gazing at Roland's upright figure, Peyton let out a wry smile before offering advice.

"But for that last move, you could have attacked its armpit. That would have temporarily immobilized it."

Upon hearing this, Roland reviewed the recent fight and nodded gently.

While his awakened skills and various traits and buffs helped him quickly grasp the essentials of techniques, they couldn't grant him practical combat experience against enemies.

Therefore, even though he fully understood the essence of Lionheart Swordsmanship in his mind, his moves still lacked a certain fluidity and adaptability in actual combat.

After landing a finishing blow on each of the three kobolds, ensuring they were all dead, Roland slowly approached.

Under the moonlight, he finally noticed a deep, bone-gaping wound on Peyton's left arm, blood already soaking through half his sleeve.

"You're hurt?"

"Got scratched by those bastards earlier. It's nothing."

Peyton spat, and just as he was about to say more, several dog-like howls echoed from a distance.

Hearing the sounds, Peyton's expression changed drastically, and he pulled Roland into the house.

Gary had already packed his belongings and was guarding the door with a hunting bow. Seeing them enter, he immediately bolted the door and said with a hint of panic, "The granary to the east is on fire. At least twenty kobolds are looting the market."

"Far more than that."

Peyton tore off a strip of cloth to hastily bandage his wound.

"This group is clearly organized. There must be a big shot directing them from behind."

Peeking through a crack in the window, Roland's stomach churned.

The entire village was engulfed in flames, with over a dozen fires painting the night sky a bloody hue.

On the streets, kobolds, in groups of three or five, were breaking down doors. An old man who lagged behind was pounced on by three monsters, his screams quickly turning into horrifying chewing sounds.

Further away, a few young and strong villagers were desperately fighting back with pitchforks. Then, a kobold wielding a weapon, a rusty iron sword, charged into the crowd. With a few dull thuds, the defenders fell one after another into a pool of blood.

"Damn it!"

Seeing the scene outside the window, Gary cursed, violently lifted the bed board, and dragged out an old wooden chest from the hidden compartment beneath.

He nimbly pried open the latch and took out two hunting knives that gleamed coldly, tucking them into his belt.

"The back door is safe for now. What do we do next?"

"Head to the village entrance and escape towards the manor!"

Before Peyton could speak, Roland withdrew his gaze from the window and spoke first.

"There are definitely regular soldiers stationed at the manor. With their high walls, the kobolds have no chance of breaking through!"

Having trained at the manor, Roland knew its environment like the back of his hand.

It was less like a manor and more like a small fortress.

Tall stone walls, strategically placed arrow towers, and tight defensive fortifications all showcased its easily defensible nature.

With the kobolds' crude weapons and disorganized attacks, trying to breach a defense line manned by well-trained regular guards was sheer fantasy.

"We'll do as the kid says!"

Peyton panted and nodded at Gary.

With their minds united, the three of them quietly slipped out of the house.

Seeing several kobold corpses in front of the house, Roland understood where Peyton's arm wound came from.

Amidst the thick smoke, the three used it as cover, sticking close to the walls as they moved quickly.

When they encountered kobolds during their passage, Roland and Peyton cooperated tacitly, dispatching them together.

In the continuous real combat, the special effect of [Theory and Practice] gradually manifested.

The Lionheart Swordsmanship in Roland's hands shed its initial awkwardness, his moves flowing more smoothly, and each sword strike became precise and sharp.

After turning two street corners, Roland suddenly pulled the other two to a halt.

At the crossroads ahead lay seven or eight corpses, a mixture of villagers and kobolds.

And not far away, several regular soldiers clad in chainmail were wielding sharp blades, charging at an unusually large kobold.

Under the bright moonlight, Roland clearly noticed the kobold's distinctiveness.

Its entire body was covered in blood-colored scales, each one emitting an eerie cold glint in the moonlight.