Escape! Mounted Archery

Light cavalry.

Through God's Eye View, Duncan saw the heavily wounded guard captain. Several arrows were lodged in his back, though fortunately his armor had blocked most of the damage. Another caravan guard had been hit in the shoulder, which was already clearly affecting his riding. Their horses could not compare to the light cavalry's Steppe Horses, and the enemy was about to catch up.

One dead, two wounded.

The light cavalry pursuing them drew their composite bows. They were exceptionally skilled at drawing and nocking arrows from horseback. A rain of arrows arced through the air, and one struck a horse's leg. The mount cried out in pain and threw the caravan guard from its back.

Falling from a horse under such circumstances, that caravan guard was basically done for.

Sure enough, the fallen guard struggled to his feet, but one of the light cavalrymen had already raised a light lance.

Lance Charge!

The enemy's lance was made of hardwood, roughly 2.2 meters long. Its socketed spearhead was secured with nails, and to keep it from becoming impossible to pull out after piercing a body, wings had been added behind the spearhead.

Blood splattered!

The caravan guard died on the spot. The tremendous impact granted by the charging warhorse made his brigandine seem no sturdier than paper. The blue unit marked at the edge of the map was instantly reduced to one.

"They're incredibly strong."

The enemy horse archers were still pursuing them. The guard captain was already sprawled over his horse's back, apparently unable to hold on much longer due to his injuries.

Just what had happened in the fighting along the Empire's border?

Why did it feel like they had suffered a crushing defeat?

Duncan immediately picked up the Northern War Bow and mounted up. The original owner had known nothing about riding, and Duncan had never specifically learned it in his previous life either. He had chosen a nag with a gentle temperament that even ordinary people could ride, but its combat ability was very poor because it simply could not run fast. It was a cross between a nag and a mule horse.

The other caravan guards reacted quickly. When they saw Duncan suddenly move, they immediately mounted and followed.

After the battles along the way, everyone had long regarded him as the backbone of the group.

Over by the convoy, the Witch also stopped walking, her expression gradually turning solemn.

Her lips moved slightly.

The next second, a pitch-black crow perched on a nearby roadside treetop took flight and headed directly toward the battle.

However, Duncan's attention was entirely on the battlefield at the moment, and he did not notice the Witch's little movement at all.

"Rangers."

"They should be the elite among the light cavalry. They don't look like ordinary horse archers and have considerable close-combat ability."

By then, the guard captain could already be seen several hundred meters away. Half his body was slanted to one side, held in place entirely by his stirrups, as though he would fall from the horse at any moment.

The other caravan guards immediately spurred their horses forward to meet him, leaving Duncan behind in an instant.

He was riding a small, scrawny nag that simply could not run fast, and he did not dare spur it into a full gallop. Without Riding Mastery, he might fall from the horse and break himself half to death.

The distance gradually closed.

The pursuing light cavalry also spotted the enemy. They gradually slowed their horses, waiting for reinforcements from behind. Someone drew his bow and aimed, loosing a long-range arcing shot, but it missed. Mounted archery had a notoriously pitiful hit rate. Unless one came from a people raised on horseback, it was difficult to produce top-tier mounted archers.

Under God's Eye View, Duncan's aiming Cross Star was shaking as though there were an earthquake. While galloping on horseback, even his skill could not compensate for or correct it.

So he simply dismounted, drew his bow, nocked an arrow, and locked onto a target while standing still.

Whoosh!

A sharp arrow tore through the air and struck the horse in the head.

The Barbarian stragglers he had killed yesterday had improved his archery considerably. When shooting on foot, his aiming Cross Star was already very steady.

Shoot the horse before the rider.

The enemy warhorse let out a miserable cry after being struck. The light cavalryman fell from its back and was trampled once. Although he did not die immediately, he was clearly badly injured. By the time he struggled to his feet, his right leg was already lame.

Whoosh!

Duncan calmly nocked another arrow and drew the bow. The second arrow hit the enemy's left shoulder. The man cried out in pain and dropped to the ground, seemingly waiting for his companions to rescue him.

But Duncan's third arrow had already flown. With God's Eye View assisting him, he directly hit the man's collarbone. The arrowhead passed through his neck, leaving the enemy on the verge of death.

"Can you still fight?"

Duncan looked slightly tense as he abandoned his horse and slipped into the small woods by the roadside. If cavalry clashed later, his riding skill would make death almost certain. He could not outrun them, and he could not outshoot them. With no foundation in mounted archery, he did not think he could defeat a small squad of lightly equipped horse archers.

He might as well hide in the woods and fire cold arrows.

As long as the caravan guards could hold them back, Duncan's current archery might let him turn the tables.

By then, the caravan guards had already met up with the seriously wounded guard captain.

One bearded guard took a hand crossbow from his waist and quickly loaded a bolt, then aimed, but did not pull the trigger. The hand crossbow's range was not long enough. The other guards raised their shields. Their small round shields covered little area and could only protect vital spots.

Their combat skills were about on par with those of the Empire's light cavalry. The only difference between them and infantry was that they could ride horses.

The enemy opened the distance and loosed a volley of arrows.

It was a typical light cavalry kiting tactic, but their archery was quite impressive. They used a technique similar to the Parthian Shot. They could shoot while facing either toward or away from their enemies, allowing their riding to remain completely unaffected as they controlled their mounts as easily as their own limbs.

"If we calculated this using Mount and Blade skills, these horse archers would have at least 150 Riding Mastery!"

What troublesome enemies.

Once Duncan entered the woods, he began looking for an opportunity. The Northern War Bow's effective range was inferior to that of a longbow, and he was not confident of killing with a single shot. Therefore, the first step to achieving results was definitely shooting the horses.

As long as an enemy fell from his horse, Duncan would have a chance to pick him off.

Whoosh!

During the brief exchange, Duncan finally found an opportunity. He had no energy to pay attention to the caravan guards' battle. Once an enemy light cavalryman entered his range, he immediately aimed at the warhorse and fired. Horses were larger targets, and with his current archery, hitting them every time was not difficult.

Amid a burst of neighing,

the light cavalryman's mount cried out after being hit, but the rider did not fall. Realizing something was wrong, he turned his horse around and prepared to retreat while shouting in the Steppe Language for nearby companions to help him.

Duncan did not hesitate. Another arrow killed the warhorse.

With his current archery skill, he could maintain a firing rate of roughly one arrow every 1.5 seconds. However, his Stamina Bar dropped quickly, and its recovery speed could not keep up with the consumption. After firing twenty or thirty shots in a row at most, it would probably be nearly empty.

The enemy fell from his horse.

It would be difficult for him to run out of Duncan's range on foot, and he had been galloping through open ground with nowhere to hide.

Duncan fired three arrows from the High Ground Advantage, directly killing the target.

But he had to run immediately afterward.

The light cavalry entangled with the caravan guards heard the cry for help and instantly split off two riders. One carried a bow, while the other held a lance, and they circled toward the roadside woods from both sides. Without God's Eye View, Duncan would have been caught between them.

"Hah!"

Duncan took a deep breath, looking slightly tense as he retreated deeper into the woods and removed the Farron Throwing Axe from his waist.

Hit!

Thud.

A throwing axe was even harder to aim, but Duncan still landed a headshot, knocking the enemy directly from his horse.

Whoosh!

The bowstring trembled.

The other enemy had already discovered Duncan's position. He swiftly drew his bow and fired. The arrow tore through the air toward Duncan's back. The studded leather armor over his padded tunic made instant death unlikely, but he would definitely be seriously wounded.

Only heavy armor would let someone keep fighting with more than ten arrows stuck in their body.

A light breeze passed through the woods.

Like the trembling cry of a cicada, the arrow flying toward Duncan suddenly veered slightly and struck the tree trunk beside him.

Under God's Eye View, the marker representing the Witch had entered the woods.

Duncan did not hesitate. From sixty meters away, he nocked an arrow, drew his bow, aimed at the enemy's head, and blew it apart with a single shot.

Strange shouts came from the distance.

The light cavalry skirmishing with the caravan guards immediately retreated. By the time Duncan emerged from the woods, the enemy had already begun withdrawing from the battlefield.

Their will to fight was not very strong either. The moment they suffered losses, they retreated.

If this had truly become a fight to the death, the caravan guards would likely have been wiped out, and Duncan himself could only have fled alone, relying on the dense mountain forests to evade pursuit.

Of course, if the enemy truly dared pursue him into the forest, he would not be afraid at all.

"The Witch is gone!"

When Duncan looked over the battlefield again, the unit marker representing the Witch had disappeared. A few minutes later, it appeared at the edge of God's Eye View before silently returning to the convoy from the side.

At the same time,

the retreating light cavalry regrouped and spoke in slang resembling Persian Language.

"Why did we retreat?"

"We definitely could have taken them!" one rider complained indignantly.

The captain at the front remained expressionless and said coldly, "They're only caravan guards. What use is taking them out?"

"Don't forget our mission."

When they had encountered the three riders earlier, they had thought they were Imperial messengers and assumed they could easily kill them. Instead, they had bitten into a hard bone and lost quite a few men themselves.

If they had forced the fight, they would probably have suffered considerable casualties.

As they spoke,

a pitch-black crow suddenly swept through the air overhead. The cavalry captain's warhorse seemed to startle and suddenly began neighing madly. Before he could even yank the reins tight, the horse bolted toward the riverbed. In only a breath or two, the crazed warhorse threw the rider off. The stirrups dragged him more than ten meters, leaving bloodstains all over the ground, before the horse crushed his head beneath a hoof and charged into the riverbed.

The sudden scene left the Rangers staring at one another, every face filled with shock.

Outside the convoy,

the Witch stopped walking. She tilted her head slightly to listen, and amid the crow's hoarse cries, a bewitching smile curled at her lips. Soon, she silently blended back into the group.

"Disengaged from combat."

--"Riding Mastery: You possess riding skills no less profound than those of the Steppe nomads. Peoples born on horseback possess this talent by nature."

--"Mounted Archery Mastery: You have mastered mounted archery, rivaling Steppe horse archers. Your accuracy is greatly improved when firing from horseback."

--"Parthian Shot [Combat Skill]: You can skillfully perform the Parthian Shot in battle, rapidly firing while facing either toward or away from your enemy."

--"Lance Charge [Combat Skill]: You have skillfully mastered the combat technique of Lance Charge and can rapidly launch a Lance Charge attack in battle."

The caravan guards had suffered heavy casualties.

Nearly everyone was injured, while the guard captain was so seriously wounded that he could not rise. It was unknown whether he could survive.

"Discard all the cargo and take only daily necessities."

"Everyone travels light."

Duncan led a Steppe Horse out of the woods, his expression grim. Looking at the guard captain, who was pulling arrows from his body and treating his wounds, he said in a low voice, "We have to move quickly, or we may not be able to leave."

The guard captain struggled to open his eyes and rasped, "You mean they are..."

"Scouts!" Duncan said decisively. "Within a day at most, the enemy cavalry force will probably be here."

A small force of elite light cavalry deep behind enemy lines.

What else could they be but scouts?

Perhaps a large number of Imperial stragglers would soon retreat here. The enemy cavalry intended to intercept them and wipe them all out in one stroke.

Duncan could not judge the battlefield situation based on the limited information available.

But judging from what he had encountered over the past two days, the Imperial army had likely lost, and lost badly. Several border Provinces might even fall entirely.

The Empire's territory was incredibly vast.

It encompassed nearly the most fertile lands on the continent. At its peak, its territory had covered more than half the continental shelf. But such a vast domain inevitably meant the Empire's control over its border Provinces had weakened sharply. Especially after the Empire declined, its administrative institutions became bloated and rigid. No one knew how long it would take them to gather troops and retake the lost territory.

This enormous Empire was gradually falling apart.

Civilized Barbarians rebelled, Wild Barbarians invaded, and the Empire's legions had long since rotted away. The glorious Eagle Banner had become mere decoration, with the last shred of battlefield dignity supported by Barbarian Mercenaries.

"This Empire is probably finished!"

After pondering for a moment, Duncan said gravely, "Throw away all the cargo. Everyone gets in the carriages and travels through the night. We need to escape the border and withdraw to the northern cities as quickly as possible."

After saying that, he lowered his head and stared at the guard captain before him.

He was the true decision-maker of the caravan.

If the man refused, Duncan would set off alone on horseback. At most, he would ask the mysterious Witch whether she wanted to come with him.

But that would expose him. The Witch would definitely guess something.

Still, if it came to that, he could only speak plainly. If that did not work, they would simply go their separate ways.

Duncan was neither family nor friend to them. Doing this much was already his limit.

In war, an individual's strength was far too insignificant.

He did not want to be dragged into the chaos of war now.

The guard captain pondered for a moment, gritted his teeth, and said, "Discard the cargo. Everyone travels through the night."

His decisiveness made Duncan regard him more highly.

When war came,

one had to abandon what needed abandoning. As long as people were alive, there would always be a chance to rise again. If they died amid the chaos of battle, they would truly have nothing left.

These days, massacring cities and razing settlements was as commonplace as eating and drinking.

Since the man had such resolve, Duncan would continue traveling with them for a while longer.

However, he was now alone on horseback. If anything happened, he could leave at any time. Before becoming a Hundred-Man Slayer, the most important thing was to keep a low profile. At least before that, he could not take reckless risks.

At his current rate of improving his combat skills, becoming a Hundred-Man Slayer would not be difficult.

It would be even better if he could master supernatural power!