Breaking the lines alone!

With a guide, the rest of the journey became much easier.

Duncan and his companions spent three days crossing the war zone to reach Upper Germania, roughly the region along the middle Rhine River, western Switzerland, and parts of France. It had always been contested territory. Although the Empire had not abandoned Lesser Germania, it could not fully control it either, and barbarians from Greater Germania periodically attacked and plundered it.

(In AD 410, the Roman Empire withdrew its last legion from Britain Island, after which the Province of Britannia was abandoned. By then, Lesser Germania's defensive system was already stretched to its limits.)

Greater Germania lay east of the Rhine River, encompassing Germany, Poland, Czechia, Slovakia, Austria, Hungary, and other lands.

After conquering Lesser Germania, the Romans divided it into the two provinces of Upper Germania and Lower Germania, stationing troops along the frontier to defend against attacks by the northern barbarians.

Severus was a barbarian himself, as well as a Druid, and had his own contacts in Gaul and Germania. With him as their guide, Duncan and the Witch avoided a great deal of unnecessary trouble, even taking a hidden route through the contested territory of Raetia.

By now, all of Europe had descended into chaos. Barbarians, rebels, bandits, Hunnic Raiders, Gothic mercenaries, Frankish mercenaries, and others were everywhere.

The situation rivaled the ancient Uprising of the Five Barbarians.

This truly was an age when human lives were worth less than dirt!

Standing on a mountaintop, Duncan gazed out over the distant plain, where he could see two armies fighting in the open. It was not a particularly large battle, involving only one or two thousand men—a localized conflict. The imperial army was probably trying to reclaim part of the Rhine River region.

My cheat might be powerful, but against an army, I really am helpless.

If all of Europe weren't such a mess, I could spend the early stages farming bandits, rebels, and Hunnic Raiders to get stronger.

Since arriving in this world, Duncan had rarely encountered lone enemies.

He had only met three routed soldiers at the very beginning. Every enemy group he encountered afterward had numbered in the double digits. With his current abilities, fighting ten men alone was extremely risky, and even a minor injury would leave him in a very bad position afterward.

If he fought, he had to aim to come out unscathed. One crippling injury, and he was finished.

While talking with the Druid, he had managed to learn some rumors about trolls, though he had no idea whether he could find one. The trolls Severus described were man-eating monsters from Norse mythology, possessed of tremendous vitality and capable of Regeneration.

That ability held immense strategic value for Duncan!

Severus emerged from the dense woods, his expression grave. "I just received word. Lower Pannonia has fallen."

"The Huns' vanguard captured it shortly after you left."

"The Scourge of God, Attila, is marching west with an army of five hundred thousand!"

Five hundred thousand?

Of course, Duncan knew ancient armies' numbers were always exaggerated, but however much he reduced that figure, there would still be a hundred thousand or more fighting men. On a battlefield of that scale, even stumbling across a scouting unit would put him in danger. The safest course was to avoid the heart of the fighting between the various powers until he had fully developed his strength.

The Witch, Triss, remained silent. She seemed entirely unsurprised by the Huns' massive invasion.

Looking toward the distant battlefield, Duncan asked in a low voice, "Do we wait until they're done fighting before moving on?"

Severus said solemnly, "The borders have all been sealed. The Empire intends to fortify its positions and strip the countryside of supplies. I'm afraid we'll have to cross through uninhabited territory."

Duncan considered for a moment. "Wait for me nearby. I'll find a way to get us some good horses."

It was an extremely risky move.

The Raven Queen, Triss, rose the instant she heard him. Fixing her eyes on the man before her, she said, "No. That's far too dangerous!"

Severus also knitted his brows. He looked toward the distant battlefield and asked in shock, "You mean to steal their horses?"

Duncan said calmly, "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"If there's no opening, I'll come straight back."

The Raven Queen, Triss, looked deeply worried, and Severus's expression was grave as well. Yet seeing Duncan's face, he also felt that this man had the skill to back up his boldness.

In the end, neither of them could stop Duncan from having his way.

The Witch walked up to Duncan and handed him a moonlike Rune Stone, saying softly, "Be careful!"

—Signet of Diana [Wondrous Item] [Unknown]!

Huh?

Through God's Eye View, Duncan studied the Rune Stone curiously. This was the first piece of equipment he had seen designated as a Wondrous Item.

—Signet of Diana [Wondrous Item]: The signet of Diana, the goddess of the moon and oak worshipped by the Romans. Blessed by a priestess, it can grant Diana's favor through unseen forces. Additional ability: "Hero's Luck." [Note: The heroes of the mythological era all enjoyed the unseen protection of deities.]

A Wondrous Item that increased luck?

Duncan accepted it without ceremony and tucked it close to his body.

He waved to the Witch behind him, then entered the dense forest without looking back.

This goddamned age of chaos.

Duncan and the Witch had spent just two days in the mountains searching for the reclusive Druid, and the imperial army had requisitioned both their mounts.

The soldiers had paid a token five Denarii to the inn looking after their horses, and had also driven off the cattle, sheep, and other livestock near the village where they were staying.

The Empire's finances were now on the brink of collapse.

Of course, plenty of great estates and landowners had already emerged within the Empire. Possessing vast tracts of land and tenant serfs, they were evolving into the feudal nobility of the Middle Ages. Yet the Empire's tax collectors did not dare demand money from them, so the common people had to suffer a little more instead.

All commoners were treated equally in that respect. There were fewer and fewer Roman freemen, while the barbarian populace was so oppressed that they too were rising in revolt.

The Empire impartially drained every last drop from all its lowly subjects, bleeding them dry with no regard for the future.

"Expand the battlefield map!"

Acting alone, Duncan did not have much to consider. If he could win, he would fight; if not, he would run. He would see whether he could pick off a few cavalrymen with unexpected arrows, or find horses whose riders had died along the edges of the battlefield.

The Empire had stolen his mount. Naturally, he intended to settle that score.

The armies fighting on the plain ahead were a complicated mix. Through God's Eye View, Duncan saw soldiers from many different factions.

—Imperial Field Army (1 star).

—Imperial Border Guard.

—Frankish Foreign Mercenaries (1 star).

—Visigoth Kingdom Rider.

—Germanic Foreign Mercenaries.

These were the units on the Empire's side. They looked as though they had been scattered and reorganized. The Visigoth Kingdom had now allied with the Empire against the Hunnic Empire, and a cavalry force of roughly a hundred men was fighting on the battlefield.

The opposing side was just as mixed.

—Alan Auxiliary Army.

—Ostrogoth Auxiliary Cavalry.

—Frankish Mercenaries (1 star).

—Hunnic Elite Cavalry (1 star).

—Germanic Barbarian Auxiliary Army.

There were not many actual Hunnic troops on the battlefield. Most were armies of other barbarians the Huns had conquered and enslaved. The strongest fighters among them were undoubtedly the Frankish Mercenaries. Their equipment was much the same on both sides, and all fought with remarkable ferocity.

After invading the Empire, the Huns had accepted the surrender of the Ripuarian Franks. The Scourge of God, Attila, had long been eager to swallow up the pro-Roman Franks in one bite.

There were barely any Romans on this battlefield.

The Franks were barbarians, the Visigoth Kingdom was a nation founded by barbarians, and the Germanic Foreign Legion consisted entirely of barbarians fighting for the Empire. Most of the Imperial Border Guard was made up of frontier barbarians, while even the strongest Imperial Field Army was over fifty percent barbarian in origin.

The Imperial Field Army was notorious for its enormous military expenses. Its soldiers earned two to three times the pay of the border guards. It had later dissolved on its own when the Empire went bankrupt, and only a small portion had been recruited again in recent years.

Yet the situation on the battlefield looked grim.

The best-equipped soldiers of the Imperial Field Army all wore scale armor and carried shields, shortswords, and javelins on their backs. Armed from head to toe, they were standard heavy infantry. Yet a mob of barbarian auxiliaries had pinned them down on the main front, and their right wing was even showing signs of breaking.

How could their morale be this bad?

Observing through God's Eye View, Duncan discovered that these legion units had additional labels. The Imperial Field Army bore a conspicuous "low morale" marker.

By contrast, the neighboring Frankish Foreign Mercenaries had "high morale." The Germanic Foreign Legion's morale was average, but they believed they could fight the enemy. The Visigoth Kingdom had always been warlike—even its king had died charging into battle—so their morale was decent without him needing to check.

Across the entire battlefield, only the Empire's field army and border guards had visibly poor morale.

It looked like God's Eye View had strategic functions too.

Duncan tried focusing his attention on the units, and additional information soon appeared. The Imperial Field Army had an "unpaid wages" marker, while the border guards had "disorganized reorganization." The Frankish Mercenaries, whose morale was highest, had the positive status "fighting for homeland."

This region was already part of what would become France, and the Franks had established their own kingdom toward the end of the Empire.

Their morale wasn't even as good as the Young Legion's in Ancient Rome!

Duncan circled around behind the battlefield's right flank. The best-equipped Imperial Field Army hung back timidly, unwilling to advance. On the main front, the Frankish Foreign Legion was practically holding off the enemy assault alone. The Visigoth Kingdom's cavalry was engaged with the Huns, and had suffered considerable casualties from the first clash. The Hunnic Elite Cavalry was simply too fierce.

Back then, fighting the Xiongnu had drained the Han Dynasty's strength too.

Ancient nomads learned to ride before they could walk. The moment the cavalry clashed head-on, it was clear how formidable the Hunnic riders were. Whether in mounted archery or mounted combat, the Huns held a distinct advantage.

Of course, there were exceptions.

For instance, a unit marked "Visigoth Noble Knight" was also on the battlefield, bearing a one-star silver-gray marker. A single charge sent the Hunnic rider opposite him tumbling from his horse at lancepoint.

These men had evolved from the former Barbarian Chieftain Guard. The barbarian warrior class had become the Visigoth Kingdom's newly risen nobility.

Duncan put his thumb and forefinger into his mouth.

A piercing whistle rang out!

At the edge of the battlefield, a riderless warhorse wandering on the outskirts soon lifted its head. It trotted toward Duncan, who leaped up and swung onto its back with the agility of an elite nomadic rider.

—Call Steed [Horsemanship branch]: You can whistle to summon nearby riderless warhorses, with a chance of making them approach you. The higher your horsemanship, the greater the chance of success. (Druid abilities can further enhance this skill.)

This was an ability of the Hunnic Eagle Archer, which Duncan had already seized.

Duncan immediately mounted and rode toward the cavalry melee on the right flank. If that wing collapsed completely, the Empire's legions would surely suffer a total rout.

He was here already.

Wouldn't it be a wasted trip if he didn't kill a few men?

Duncan nocked an arrow and aimed at a gothic auxiliary cavalryman. The arrow cut through the air, shooting the enemy from his saddle on the spot. The milling horses then trampled him to death.

One kill!

The battlefield was in chaos, and few people noticed Duncan's presence. The Empire's mixed legion also assumed he was a friendly reinforcement.

Under these circumstances, he could take full advantage of the confusion.

Two kills!

An arrow sliced through the air. An Alan auxiliary rider fell from his horse, gravely wounded, and a Visigoth cavalryman promptly speared him to death.

Duncan kept moving as he fired from horseback, constantly watching the Hunnic archer units on the wider map. He loosed an arrow straight at an Imperial Armored Cavalryman trying to flee, knocking him from his horse.

Three kills!

That one was something of an accidental kill. The man's head had happened to move right into the cross-star reticle, and Duncan had instinctively put an arrow through it.

He only had himself to blame for losing his nerve and trying to run.

Besides, the battlefield was such a mess that no one knew where stray arrows came from.

Duncan's main targets were still the Hunnic and barbarian troops. If he occasionally shot one or two imperial cavalrymen by mistake, those were merely accidents.

Still, his appearance had undoubtedly changed the situation on the Empire's right flank. More than ten Hunnic riders spurred their horses after him. Without another word, Duncan fled, riding straight out of their range.

Eagle Shooter had improved my abilities so much!

Duncan's horsemanship was now no worse than that of the Hunnic Elite Cavalry. He gauged the distance.

—Parthian Shot!

Loosed at a forty-five-degree angle, the arrow struck a Hunnic rider in the chest from an unbelievable direction. The enemy soon fell from his horse and died from the impact.

"An Eagle Shooter!?" (Hunnic)

The term described a sharpshooter. Eagle Shooters held high status within the Hunnic Empire.

Four kills!

Duncan remained unhurried, guiding his warhorse with his mind as effortlessly as moving his own limbs. He loosed another arrow, the Parthian Shot steadying his cross-star aim, and shot a Hunnic elite rider through the head on the spot.

Now the Huns grew somewhat frightened and sent a small squad of gothic auxiliary cavalry after him.

"Aren't they just handing me kills?" Duncan was delighted.

The Ostrogothic Auxiliary Cavalry carried shields and lances, rarely bows, and their riding skills could not match his. With God's Eye View, Duncan would never charge blindly across the battlefield. Other riders might lose their bearings during a charge, but he could count every single enemy around him.

One arrow went through a warhorse's head. The second shot killed the Gothic rider who fell from it.

Five kills—rampage!

The more Duncan killed, the more smoothly it went. Killing the shield-bearing gothic auxiliary cavalry did take a few extra arrows, though, and some riders who fell were trampled to death by their own men.

Six kills—godlike!

Seven kills—intimidation!

Eight kills—terror!

Nine kills—collapse!

This squad of Gothic auxiliary cavalry went straight from high morale to low morale. By Duncan's seventh kill, they were already suffering from intimidation. When another rider fell, they immediately became terrified. Finally, at nine kills, their status changed directly to "morale collapse." Though they still had more than ten riders, they turned and fled on the spot.

It was simply too frightening!

Not only the Gothic auxiliaries, but even the Hunnic Elite Cavalry now bore a "terrified" marker.

Ten kills—rout!

Roughly one kill every thirty seconds.

In just a few minutes, Duncan had achieved an astonishing ten kills on the battlefield. The Visigothic cavalry cried out in amazement, shouting, "Warrior of the Lord!" Their morale soared at once.

Some of the Goths who had migrated west had converted to Catholicism, and many barbarians in Germania were also followers of the Church.

That was about enough!

Duncan was in no hurry to rout these Huns and auxiliaries, because when he reached back, he discovered that he was running low on arrows.

He always carried two quivers, but had not expected to nearly empty them so quickly. (A leather quiver held twelve arrows, but was easy to carry and quick to draw from, without hindering movement at all. Large quivers held twenty-four arrows, and the largest held thirty-six, but all restricted movement. Usually, only archers fighting on foot carried more than sixty arrows.)

Franks!

Barbarian Elite Warriors.

Duncan needed to claim a few particularly important kills. One target was the frankish elite infantry, who excelled at using Frankish throwing axes. The other was the Barbarian Elite Warriors, who might possess unusual abilities.

He began roaming the outskirts of the battlefield, keeping as far from the enemy archers as possible.

An opening!

Using the wider map, Duncan soon marked several Frankish elite warriors conquered by the Huns. He yanked hard on the reins. His warhorse whinnied and reared, its hooves rising high. At an almost vertical angle, Duncan used his improved vantage point to aim at his target.

—Parthian Shot!

The arrow flew across the battlefield.

Time seemed to freeze in that instant.

Pfft!

A single arrow through the head.

The Frankish Elite Axeman subjugated by the Huns died on the spot.

Eleven kills!

Duncan kept galloping. He noticed enemies on both sides closing in again, unwilling to give up. Without God's Eye View, he would never have been able to keep track of the entire battlefield, and might well have been surrounded.

Time to put my skills to the test!

Duncan drew a deep breath and jerked the reins. His warhorse leaped, and while it was still in midair, he locked onto a marked target.

--Barbarian Chieftain Warrior (1 star).

--Parthian Shot.

On the battlefield, the Barbarian Chieftain Warrior had just let out a roar and split an Imperial Field Army soldier's skull with his two-handed battle-axe. A second later, an arrow whistled through the air and pierced his neck.

Twelve kills!

Duncan's quiver was empty.

He suddenly dropped to the side of his horse, hanging from the saddle for an instant as he scooped up a fallen knight's lance from the ground. This was a riding technique the Huns excelled at; most knights in Europe lacked such superb skill.

He tucked the lance under his arm.

Duncan drew a deep breath. Looking at his more than half-depleted stamina bar, he rode straight at the Ostrogoth Riders trying to surround him.

--Lance Charge!

Squ elch.

It all happened in a flash. The instant they crossed paths, Duncan's lance pierced his enemy's body. He immediately released it, and his superb horsemanship even left him enough room to draw the long saber from the enemy's saddle as they passed.

Thirteen kills!

Time to run!

Duncan did not hesitate. He had carved a bloody path from the battlefield's right flank to its left, then rode away without so much as a backward glance.

His stamina bar was nearly empty.

Even in the Dimensional Space, he could feel the arms of the body he controlled trembling slightly.

Day seven since crossing over.

Kill count: 37.

Once I've rounded up the horses scattered around the battlefield, I'll head back and note it down in my little notebook.

On a mountain peak outside the battlefield.

The Raven Queen, Triss, looked so shocked that she was almost dazed. Severus could not see what was happening on the battlefield, but through some form of sorcery, she could see everything clearly through a bird's eyes.

She had watched Duncan cut his way across the entire battlefield and finally ride away.

The sight had left her slender body trembling!

Amid thousands of soldiers and horses, Duncan had slain more than a dozen men in succession, finally shooting down the Barbarian Chieftain Warrior before riding away.