A Lone Rider Breaks the Enemy! A Saber Cuts Down Arrows!

Valkyrie?

A Valkyrie? A member of the Norse Pantheon?

The discovery made Duncan's expression change. It shocked him even more than the dragon he had seen in Iceland during the last Law of Causality deduction.

Ordinary mortals seemed unable to see the Valkyrie with their naked eyes.

She paid no attention to anyone else on the battlefield. She completely ignored the fallen ordinary soldiers and showed no interest in the dead who believed in Monotheism. Her gaze fell only upon the elite units among the Germanic Barbarians. At the very least, they had to be One-Star combat units to draw even a little of the bird-winged, silver-helmed Valkyrie's attention.

They could not have been killed while fleeing.

They had to be Germanic Barbarian Warriors who had fought head-on with peerless courage, regarded fear as nothing, and believed in Polytheism—the Norse Pantheon.

It did not matter if they had charged too fiercely out of recklessness and been surrounded and killed by the enemy.

As long as they were strong enough and brave enough, they would be awakened from the battlefield by the Valkyrie. Then, in the form of invisible souls, they were taken away by the Valkyrie and vanished into the air.

"Valhalla?"

In an instant, Duncan connected this to many things, including the Heroic Spirit form he had first assumed in the Law of Causality deduction—Monster Hunter - Duncan [Lower Heroic Spirit].

He suddenly realized something. If the extinguishing of the Olympus Sacrificial Fire in 394 AD and the closing of the Pantheon's gates signified the formal destruction of the Ancient Greek Pantheon and Ancient Roman Pantheon factions, then one Polytheistic faction of this era had not yet been destroyed by The Church.

—The Norse Pantheon.

They were rooted among the Germanic Barbarians, who began their massive invasion of the Roman Empire around 400 AD, inflicting irreparable damage upon the Empire, which had already become "fully Christianized."

This point in time seemed rather interesting.

Not long after the Ancient Greek and Roman Pantheons perished, the Germanic Barbarians of Northern Europe began the Barbarian Invasion, wave after wave battering the Roman Empire's borders.

The Huns' westward campaign might not have been the sole reason.

"And then there were the later Viking invasions..."

"Scandinavia's most brutal Norse peoples began attacking and plundering Europe as well. They shouted Odin's name as they sailed dragon-prowed warships to loot Europe's coastal regions."

Did this mean the war of faith between Monotheism and Polytheism had not yet ended?

The Roman Empire was about to collapse.

What Monotheism had wiped out were the Ancient Greek Pantheon and Ancient Roman Pantheon factions, while the Norse Pantheon still retained the strength to fight?

The Barbarian Invasion?

Did it represent the Norse Pantheon's counterattack?

In this late Mythological Era, where supernatural power was severely restricted, could even Deities only influence ordinary people through other means to determine the ultimate victor of faith?

Duncan did not know whether the Ancient Greek and Roman Deities were dead. Raven Queen - Triss had merely said that they had abandoned their Priests.

It was somewhat like the mythology games he had played in his previous life. A pantheon faction had been destroyed in the real world, its worship and sacrifices severed along with it, until that pantheon ultimately held almost no influence in reality.

Renegade - Julian could be seen as an Emperor of the Empire who supported the "restoration of the Ancient Greek and Roman Pantheons," but after the emperor died suddenly, the coffin lid had been nailed shut once more.

The Church's purge of the remaining Heretics was meant to nail that coffin lid down for good, then press a cross on top of it.

This was the second supernatural unit Duncan had encountered marked "Three-Star Golden": the Valkyrie of Norse Mythology. The previous Three-Star Golden unit had been Witcher - George, a figure from Church mythology. The tale of "Saint George Slaying the Dragon" had endured all the way into the twenty-first century.

"It seems mythical figures aren't so overwhelmingly powerful that they're beyond comprehension."

Three-Star Golden.

He could fight one and break through its defenses, but he would most likely die in the process.

Duncan still could not completely figure out this world's system of supernatural powers, but based on the clues he had gathered so far, the supernatural power of the Medieval Era was probably around the level of Lord of the Rings.

Raven Queen - Triss's usual strength might not even surpass those Maiar in Human Form.

As for beings like Dark Lord - Sauron, Elf Queen - Galadriel, and Elf King - Elrond, Duncan had yet to encounter anything so powerful.

Raven Queen - Triss would certainly lose to Gandalf in close combat and would probably be crushed by him, though her spellcasting ability might be slightly stronger.

After all, when she went berserk during her "divine descent," the extraordinary magic power she displayed had come somewhat close to that of Elf Queen - Galadriel, who could instantly kill powerful Orcs.

At the time, Raven Queen - Triss should have drawn upon a trace of a Deity's power. That ancient Sacrificial Stone had temporarily granted her part of the strength of the Mythological Era.

Whether Beowulf or King Arthur, those Legendary figures probably were not much stronger in combat than the Fellowship from Lord of the Rings. (Using an Elf Prince as the unit of measurement. Of the enemies encountered so far, the strongest was probably worth 0.5 Elf Princes.)

After all, Beowulf had died in battle after slaying the Dragon.

Of all the supernatural powers Duncan had seen so far, the most terrifying had been Raven Queen - Triss's berserk outburst.

"Severus's strength suddenly increased?"

"Was it because, after entering the region of faith belonging to Celtic Mythology, his spellcasting ability recovered? Did he gain the special ability to speak with animals?"

"Perhaps he can transform as well?"

Duncan was filled with confusion, but he could feel The Mist shrouding the world gradually dispersing. He was seeing the hidden truth of this world more and more clearly.

"The power of the Holy Grail exists."

"Then other Holy Relics, including the Spear of Longinus, should also be real."

"It's better to keep a low profile and develop quietly. The waters within the Empire are far too deep."

Duncan now wanted to know whether those beings from myth could descend into the mortal world. He knew that The Church had Saints bearing the title "Saint."

As for the Norse Pantheon, aside from Beowulf, he had not heard of any other powerful Legendary figures.

"Britain Island will be where I establish my foothold in this world."

"There's no place more suitable than this."

Since arriving in this world, Duncan had crossed more than half of the European Continent and had finally glimpsed a portion of the truth behind this world.

On the battlefield.

The situation was much as Duncan had expected. Duke of Tintagel's army swiftly collapsed.

His auxiliary units were too numerous, too mixed, and too poor.

The Cantiaci, who still retained their tribal traditions, had far too little organization. Frightened by the Saxon Barbarians, even their war cries alone shook their morale. Unlike the Mongols, he was not skilled at using auxiliary troops, and in the end, his own auxiliaries crashed into his lines and threw his formation into chaos.

"His only chance was to order the central army to immediately hack down the routed soldiers charging into the main formation when the Cantiaci broke."

The situation on a battlefield changed in an instant.

The central army absolutely could not fall into disorder!

No matter who it was—even if they were his own routed troops—anyone who struck the central line had to be killed without exception.

If he had decisively ordered the slaughter then, there might still have been a sliver of hope. But he had actually tried to gather the remnants.

Now, there truly was no chance left.

The central army was in chaos.

The formations on both flanks were shattered by the Saxon Elite Axemen. They drove the routed soldiers into the main formation, plunging the Britons' command into utter confusion.

"Follow me!"

A thunderous roar rang across the battlefield. The Saxon Barbarians' Chieftain Guard moved, followed by dozens of barbarian noble cavalrymen. Don't be fooled by stories that casually spoke of armies in the tens of thousands—in a real battlefield, a charge by nearly a hundred cavalrymen was already terrifying.

In the Battle of Gondor from Lord of the Rings, the most spectacular scene had in fact used only six thousand cavalrymen from the Kingdom of Rohan.

Anyone who had played realistic battlefield games knew that even three or four hundred cavalrymen galloping at full speed made for a terrifying sight. If you gathered a cavalry legion of over a thousand men, riders would fill the entire battlefield as far as the eye could see.

That was why ancient times had so many fierce generals who, with merely a few hundred cavalrymen, could shatter enemies ten times their number.

At this moment, an Ancient Rome proverb applied: "The die has been cast."

Whether it was the Hunnic Empire or the Mongol Empire, when the final heavy cavalry took the field, it was the moment that decided life and death, victory and defeat.

The Germanic Barbarians were incomparably fierce.

The Goths were one branch of the East Germanic Barbarians. Several chieftains and kings of both Visigoth kingdoms had died charging on the battlefield.

Among the Germanic Barbarians today, the Franks and Saxons were likewise in the first tier.

One charge!

Like rotten wood being smashed apart!

The Saxon Chieftain Guard tore straight through the Britons' right flank in a Wedge Formation. That sharp triangular formation was like a pointed blade, becoming the final straw that broke the camel's back.

The thunder of hoofbeats surged forth.

The battlefield's center was packed shoulder to shoulder, making it impossible to see what was happening around them. The British Legion could only hear the cavalry's rumbling. The charge of more than a hundred heavy cavalrymen was like an overturned cauldron of boiling oil.

Across the entire battlefield, only Duke of Tintagel's personal guard and the British Legion that imitated the Imperial Field Army could barely withstand them.

Aside from elite Heavy Infantry, no other infantry legion could stop them!

Spearmen somewhat countered cavalry, but in truth they could not stop them at all. They lacked mobility. On a real battlefield, only Heavy Infantry could hold off a wave; whether they were spearmen was not all that important. Spearmen merely dealt more damage in the first clash.

If spearmen could truly counter cavalry, wouldn't the Central Plains dynasties be able to field a hundred thousand spearmen as easily as playing around? (The only troops capable of fighting cavalry were all the very finest Heavy Infantry, such as Han Trapping-Array Armored Soldiers, Tang Modao Soldiers, Song Beiwei Army, and so on.)

Once heavy cavalry charged, they were like runaway dump trucks.

--Saxon Chieftain Guard (Heavy Cavalry) (High Morale) (Decisive Moment)!

At that moment.

Duke of Tintagel hesitated. He did not immediately lead his guard in a countercharge. By the time he reacted, the entire battlefield had already become a one-sided rout.

There was only one circumstance in which heavy cavalry would directly charge into enemy formations on the battlefield.

Both sides had been fighting for a long time.

The infantry's strength and stamina had been heavily depleted (fatigue).

The enemy line showed an obvious opening, and the heavy cavalry used their superior mobility to seize that fleeting opportunity and settle the battle in one blow!

When that hammer came down, it smashed the entire battlefield to pieces.

Since ancient times.

Heavy cavalry had always been the final force for deciding local battles. Their enormous cost meant that every general had to be extremely cautious when deploying them.

Losing several thousand heavy cavalrymen in a single battle could bring a regional power close to collapse.

When the Mongol Empire swept across Eurasia during its western campaigns, once Mongol heavy cavalry took the field, it was more or less the final move that decided the battlefield's outcome.

A move once made could not be taken back!

The Saxon Barbarians' chieftain guard charged straight through the battlefield from the flank. More than ten cavalrymen protected their commander at all costs, ready to die for him at any moment.

The barbarian chieftain's personal guard were truly the sort who would die without hesitation for their lord!

Not just them—even in the battle against the Exile Rebels, the barbarian rebels inspired by Duncan had shielded him fiercely with their bodies on both sides.

A thunderous wave of cheers erupted!

The moment Duke of Tintagel's personal guard engaged the enemy, several men were thrown from their horses in quick succession. Amid the chaos, a dozen or so guard knights desperately escorted him out of the encirclement, abandoning the British Legion on the battlefield and retreating toward the depths of the forest.

With even the commander's guard defeated, the battlefield immediately turned into a one-sided slaughter.

The British Legion collapsed completely, leaving a vast swath of corpses along their route of retreat!

"Something's happening."

Raven Queen Triss suddenly said, "It looks like the Britons have lost!"

That Saxon chieftain guard clung tightly to their rear, seemingly intending to kill Duke of Tintagel outright.

"Is he going to die here?"

"If that happens, has King Uther already taken Merlin's help, assumed his appearance, and slept with his wife?"

Duncan's expression shifted as he said directly, "Stay here and wait for me."

But this time, things were different.

Severus shook his head slightly. "I'm coming too."

Duncan realized that he had recovered his fighting strength and nodded slightly.

Raven Queen Triss gazed at Duncan, her tone firm. "I've recovered quite a bit lately. I can lend you a hand!"

This was Britain Island.

There were still quite a few beings here who possessed supernatural powers. She did not doubt Duncan's individual combat ability; she was worried that they might encounter other supernatural beings.

Could he establish a foothold in this world?

Could he change history?

Duncan wanted to know whether he could save this "man fated to die."

Protected by his personal guard, Duke of Tintagel fled in a sorry state. Only those Barbarian Chieftain Guards pursued him from behind, and their numbers were not great. Duncan was confident he could fight them.

He had never trusted King Uther, who had slaughtered Wizards, all that much.

Raven Queen Triss was not particularly confident that seeking Merlin's help would work either. It was only because he was one of the greatest seers among the Wizards of the age.

That Iceland was a retreat route reserved for the Norse Pantheon. She was, in truth, pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth. (With Iceland as a forward base, Greenland could be developed.)

"Come on!"

"Let's enter a major event in history from here!"

"As long as Duke of Tintagel doesn't die, his power struggle with King Uther won't be over. As an outsider, if I want to take root on Britain Island, I have to seek opportunities amid conflict."

"If King Uther gains complete control, it'll be even harder for me to rise!"

From the perspective of his own interests.

What Duncan wanted was not a king who unified Britain Island. He wanted rival powers locked in conflict; King Uther absolutely could not hold supreme authority.

Kill!

Duncan gradually approached the edge of the battlefield. Duke of Tintagel's personal guard had fled in panic and were drawing closer and closer to them.

An arrow tore through the air.

With a forty-five-degree arcing shot, Duncan knocked a Saxon rider charging into the woods from his horse. The forest hindered his shooting somewhat, but fortunately, his archery skill was high enough, and he was in excellent form.

Master-level combat skill was the beginning of a qualitative transformation.

--Call Mount.

With a whistle, an unclaimed warhorse came galloping over.

One Kill!

Severus moved swiftly. He uttered an ancient murmur, and the enemy warhorse ahead suddenly seemed to stop obeying its rider, charging straight toward him instead. Then the horse abruptly reared, and amid its shrill neighing, the Saxon rider panicked and nearly fell.

The warhorse had lost control.

The Druid's supernatural power had affected it.

Severus leaped forward and knocked the enemy from his horse with one hammer blow. The second smashed his head apart on the spot, after which he quickly mounted the horse.

After spending so much time with Duncan, he had come to enjoy headshots too.

He really had become an elite unit!

Through some peculiar supernatural ability, Severus influenced the enemy's warhorse, then seized and tamed it.

A Druid was indeed still a Druid.

Arrows flew from Raven Queen Triss's hand, while Witch Anya sent the warhorses into a frenzy. The two Witches worked together, throwing a small squad of enemy cavalry into chaos.

--Parthian Shot!

Double Kill!

Duncan loosed an arrow, knocking down a Chieftain Guard. Raven Queen Triss swung herself onto a horse and still had enough strength to take the slave girl with her. The girl could barely speak, burdened with a congenital stutter. She had little presence throughout the journey, serving only the two Witches.

Only then did the Saxon riders react in panic. Duncan turned in the saddle, drew his bow, and fired twice in rapid succession, killing another enemy.

Triple Kill!

"Watch out!"

"He's a Sharpshooter!" The Saxon riders were thrown into a panic.

At that moment, Witch Anya murmured softly, as though calling for it. A riderless warhorse came to her on its own. She was a decent rider and mounted up to follow.

There were five of them in all.

After Severus regained his strength, they finally looked somewhat like an elite squad.

Duncan rode at the very front!

He charged straight out of the woods, intercepting the Chieftain Guard pursuing Duke of Tintagel midway. These men were powerful, all One-Star units. Two among them were marked as Two-Star, identified as elite Saxon noble knights.

"Reinforcements?"

Some of Duke of Tintagel's guards noticed them, but seeing only one man, they hesitated and continued fleeing at full speed.

Duncan rode alone into battle!

The other four rode away along the edge of the woods after taking horses, while the Witches looked for opportunities to provide ranged support with their spells.

Their close-combat abilities were far too weak, and their horsemanship was not particularly skilled either.

Parthian Shot!

Duncan drew his bow from horseback, twisting one hundred and eighty degrees to fire behind him. He knocked another man from his horse, but the enemy wore a heavy helmet. The arrow failed to penetrate, only leaving him severely wounded from the fall.

The heavy cavalry's equipment was simply too good.

The Northern War Bow was somewhat lacking in power. Duncan was growing stronger by the day, and he urgently needed a war bow of artifact grade.

The others gradually caught up.

More than a hundred meters away, Raven Queen Triss whispered a chant. Amid the restless neighing of warhorses, the pursuing enemy formation fell into disorder, but their horsemanship was superb, and no one fell from their mounts.

Her spell seemed to require a certain distance, or its power would weaken.

The incantation stirred up a gust of Wind of Magic.

On the battlefield.

The Valkyrie, who had just taken the souls of two warriors, swiftly turned her head and looked directly toward Raven Queen Triss.

But she made no move, remaining neutral.

No one could see her with the naked eye. She seemed not to belong to the physical plane, trailing behind everyone like a Ghost. She even paused to take away the soul of a Chieftain Guard Duncan had killed.

For a moment.

It was as though she had formed some sort of tacit understanding with Duncan.

Duncan slaughtered enemies in front, while she collected souls behind him, looking remarkably diligent in her duty.

"Does the Valkyrie even exist or not?"

Other than Duncan's God's Eye View, no one could sense or observe the Valkyrie's presence. Even Raven Queen Triss was completely unaware of her.

Even through God's Eye View, she appeared to be a translucent spirit.

Parthian Shot.

Quadruple Kill!

The Saxon Chieftain Guard finally sensed that something was wrong.

Several of them drew war bows and fired toward Duncan. The Saxon Forest Hunters were formidable, ranking among the stronger archer units, and the noble knights could shoot from horseback as well.

Another small group of enemies circled around the slope to flank them, attempting to intercept Duke of Tintagel's routed guards.

Clang!

An unbelievable sight unfolded on the battlefield.

Duncan drew his sword in an instant. Oathkeeper became a blur, actually cutting apart the arrows flying toward him!

One rider breaking the enemy, sword flashing to sever arrows!

The sight shocked the Saxon Noble Riders so badly that they reined in their horses and stopped, not daring to advance.

Was he even human?

Unlike Raven Queen Triss's Sorcery, which used invisible wind to deflect arrows and made them seem as though they had simply missed, Duncan relied purely on his physical prowess and formidable combat skill to draw his sword and cut down the enemy arrows.

That was even more terrifying!

This scene.

Even startled the Valkyrie floating overhead like a spirit. Her eyes beneath her silver winged helm could not help turning toward the distant Duncan, her expression faintly astonished.

Clearly.

At this moment, the shock Duncan dealt the Barbarian Noble Knights was no less than the immense pressure the Ascetic Order Sanctuary had once brought him. This special ability depended heavily on overall combat skill, and Duncan's overall combat skill far surpassed that of the Ascetic Order Sanctuary.

Too strong!

Duncan forced back more than ten riders by himself, frightening them into not daring to continue the pursuit.

Elsewhere, Duke of Tintagel's guard cavalry had also clashed with the Saxon Noble Knights who had taken a shortcut. After one round of close-range charges, several more men were knocked from their horses.

"You stay behind and cover the retreat."

Several guard cavalrymen wore solemn expressions as they turned their horses without hesitation and rode toward certain death.

--Bloodaxe Nidron (Two-Star Silver-Gray) (Elite Chieftain Guard) [Thor Warrior].

An exceptionally fierce, burly Barbarian Warrior reeking of alcohol burst through the formation.

With one swing of his axe, he decapitated the guard cavalryman before him. Unlike the others, he could wield a two-handed battle axe while fighting on horseback, and his strength was astonishing. After cutting down two men in succession, the valiant barbarian was stabbed in the back. He let out a wild roar, forced everyone back, then charged into the fray again to join up with the other barbarian riders.

This guy's physical constitution was incredible. Even after being wounded, he acted as though nothing had happened!

He slaughtered his way through the enemy ranks and back.

Duncan had caught up by then. Drawing his bow to a full moon, he fired three arrows in rapid succession, directly killing another Barbarian Noble Knight.

Five kills!

Perhaps he should consider learning from Mongolian riders—one quiver of light arrows for long-range combat, and one quiver of heavy arrows for piercing armor.

--Barbarian Chieftain Guard (Morale Shaken) (Slight Casualties) (Encountered a Powerful Enemy)!

At that moment, a commotion arose from the rear.

The two cavalry forces that had spread out to encircle them converged, but did not continue pursuing.

The distance had already opened up.

Only light cavalry could continue the chase, but sending light cavalry after Duncan was truly just handing him kills.

The signal to withdraw was sounded.

Though the pursuing barbarian riders were unwilling, they still withdrew, preparing to continue slaughtering the routed soldiers on the battlefield.

They were the barbarians' true foundation. Losing even one would hurt for a long time.

If Duncan had not held back a force of more than ten riders, the pincer attack from both sides and the frontal charge might well have killed Duke of Tintagel, who had fled in blind panic.

There were simply too many enemies.

Duncan could only fight while retreating, gradually wearing them down with kiting tactics. His horsemanship was superb, so he was not afraid of being caught.

Heavy cavalry had difficulty catching him, while light cavalry would die if they tried.

What Duncan feared most at present was supernatural power. Fortunately, he had one Druid and two Witches by his side.

Valkyrie came to a halt.

From beneath her silver winged helmet, she gazed at Duncan from afar, then vanished with the soul of the Barbarian Warrior she had just shot dead.

Of the souls she took in this battle, nearly half had been killed by Duncan's arrows.

Valhalla's performance today depended entirely on Duncan's wild slaughter.

At the edge of the battlefield.

Duke of Tintagel did not stop to offer thanks. Still escorted by his personal guards, he continued galloping madly for more than ten miles before gradually slowing down. He then sent someone to invite the people who had saved his life forward so that he could express his gratitude.

Duke of Tintagel had even lost his helmet in the escape, revealing the face of a middle-aged man in his thirties or forties. He looked quite heroic, yet he was only marked as a One-Star white-tier unit.

His guard cavalry had suffered grievous casualties. Only around a dozen had escaped alive.

A crushing defeat!

In this disastrous battle, Duke of Tintagel had nearly exhausted all the forces he possessed.

Duncan looked at Duke of Tintagel, whose expression was tense and uneasy after the crushing defeat, and an idea suddenly surfaced in his mind.

He could become a mercenary.

He could find a way to bring over the Exile Rebels from Gaul and establish a foothold on Britain Island directly as a mercenary force.

No one needed a powerful mercenary force more than the defeated Duke of Tintagel!