Captive Barbarians

This sudden battle seemed to have entered garbage time.

But Ye Weian Xiaxing did not think so; his gaze shifted to the leader of the bandits, that shirtless barbarian.

Seeing the situation turn against him, the fellow had already swung his sword to shove aside a blocking guard and was sprinting toward a riderless warhorse in the distance, clearly intending to flee.

"Knight Cain! Stop him!" Ye Weian ordered immediately. "I want him alive! The others as well—try to capture a few prisoners!"

There were too many suspicious points about this ambush; he needed to figure out what was going on.

"Understood!" Cain did not hesitate. He spurred his horse to intercept, calling out to two nearby shield-bearing guards: "Surround him with me!"

Seeing his path blocked, the barbarian's eyes filled with a fierce, murderous light.

"Get the hell out of my way!" he roared, his heavy greatsword sweeping out with a terrifying whistling sound.

Bang! Bang!

The two guards attempting to close in with their shields were struck as if by a heavy blow; the sheer brute force sent them and their shields stumbling back several paces, nearly knocking them over.

Knight Cain thrust his longsword forward, only to have it parried by the opponent's backhand, the impact leaving his arm numb.

The leader's strength was astonishingly high; cornered like a beast, he was proving impossible to restrain for the moment.

Ye Weian frowned slightly.

The Purple Dragon Knight was a branch of the warrior class; while both were Lv.3, the Purple Dragon Knight was better at commanding and formation combat, and in terms of raw strength alone, he could not out-hack a vanilla barbarian.

Moreover, up until now, the barbarian had not even used his ultimate trump card: "Berserk."

It seemed that relying on the strength of Cain and the guards would not be enough to hold the bandit leader; he would have to take action himself.

However, to stop the barbarian before him, Spellfire alone would not suffice.

Spellfire was too lethal; it would be bad if he accidentally burned the man to death.

To capture him alive, he would have to coordinate with Knight Cain.

Fortunately, with his [Telepathy] ability, he did not need to worry about synergy.

Ye Weian focused his mind, attempting to project his thoughts toward the struggling knight.

(Cain, can you hear me? It's me, Ye Weian Xiaxing. I will provide magical support; watch for my signal.)

A familiar voice suddenly rang out in his mind, startling the knight, who was currently parrying with all his might, nearly causing him to be struck by the barbarian's blade.

He narrowly deflected the incoming greatsword and turned his head in astonishment toward Ye Weian on the carriage roof.

Ye Weian gave him a slight nod.

(That's right, this is the effect of my magic. If you want to reply, just recite it in your heart.)

The knight understood immediately—a mage's methods were always beyond conventional logic; this must be some form of communication magic.

He steadied his breathing and, while circling his opponent, responded in his mind.

(I understand, Young Master Ye Weian. Please be quick; his strength is too great, I cannot hold him for much longer!)

Communication established, Ye Weian's gaze returned to the bandit leader.

The knight's brief distraction had given the barbarian an opening; after a short wind-up, he unleashed a full-powered heavy strike.

Clang—

Barely managing to receive the heavy blow, Cain was left numb all over, his movements a half-beat slower.

The burly man seized this fleeting gap, twisted his body, and prepared to charge toward the warhorse—

This fellow was as cunning as he was unlike a barbarian.

Unfortunately, Ye Weian's spell was already prepared:

"Silver Light Sharp Tongue!"

The next moment, at the edge of the barbarian's vision, a mysterious silver light emerged without warning.

The radiance carried a certain bewitching power, drawing his gaze to shift involuntarily, leaving him in a moment of trance.

(Now!)

The knight discovered that the numbness in his arm from the parry's recoil suddenly vanished. At the same time, he felt an inexplicable "intuition"—he could clearly "see" the opening his opponent had exposed due to his distraction.

"That's right, now!"

Cain let out a roar, his longsword thrusting out like lightning, cutting into the barbarian's gap; the blade pierced through muscle and drove straight into his lung!

"Urgh—huff!"

Only when the searing pain arrived did the bandit leader realize what had happened.

He had overestimated the effect of his heavy strike; the knight, who had been as sticky and troublesome as taffy, had recovered his breath far faster than he had anticipated and had precisely seized that split-second of trance.

The penetrating wound to his lung brought agony and suffocation, but it also ignited the ferocity in his bones.

At this point, all calculations and thoughts of retreat were cast to the back of his mind. The rage in the barbarian's bloodline erupted completely; his eyes bloodshot, he let out a beast-like growl from his throat. Ignoring his injury, he swung his greatsword with both hands toward Cain with all his might, wanting nothing more than to hack this damned knight into mincemeat!

Cain would absolutely not be able to withstand this strike fueled by such fury.

It was a pity, however, that after learning his class, Ye Weian had long since been guarding against his Berserk.

Long before the barbarian erupted, he had already warned Cain.

The knight pulled back and increased the distance a step ahead of time.

This full-force strike, fueled by rage, only shredded the air and a few blades of grass, carving a deep trench into the ground in vain.

"Ughhh--!" Having missed his mark, the bandit leader grew even more furious; he stomped forward, intent on pursuing his target.

But he immediately realized that the sensation under his feet was wrong!

Looking down, he saw that the patch of ground beneath him had been covered, at some point, in a layer of slick, glossy grease.

"Grease!"

This was the second time Ye Wei'an had used this spell today.

The enraged barbarian had no time to adjust his center of gravity; his massive frame instantly lost its balance, and with a heavy "thud," he crashed onto the oil slick, splashing grease everywhere. His greatsword flew from his grip and clattered to the ground.

"Hah... you bastard!" He struggled to climb back up, but the slippery ground gave him no purchase.

"Use your spears, keep him suppressed!" Ye Wei'an issued the order at the perfect moment.

The few guards who reacted the fastest dropped their swords and shields, grabbed the spare spears from beside the carriage, and surrounded him. Standing outside the range of the Grease spell, they leveled their spearheads at the struggling barbarian.

"Just disrupt his balance, don't kill him," Ye Wei'an reminded them.

The guards faithfully carried out his orders. Whenever the barbarian tried to stand, several spearheads would jab toward him—not aiming for vital points, but stabbing at his arms, shoulders, and other areas, or simply using the shafts of their spears to shove and strike him.

"Get lost!" The barbarian swung his arms in a fury, knocking one spear aside, but more spearheads poked in from other angles.

Just as he braced himself to rise, his flank was shoved hard by a spear shaft; his center of gravity shifted, and he fell face-first back onto the slick ground.

He would climb up, only to be poked back down; he would rise again, only to fall again.

Trapped within the Grease spell, the barbarian was like a beast stuck in a quagmire, possessing terrifying strength but nowhere to unleash it.

His wounds were bleeding, and every roar and struggle drained his stamina.

His angry bellows gradually turned into heavy, painful gasps. The blood-red hue in the barbarian's eyes began to fade, and his bulging muscles slackened as if leaking air.

The [Berserk] state had ended, followed by weakness and excruciating pain.

He gasped for air, the wound in his lung sending piercing stabs of pain through him with every breath. His vision blurred, and no longer having the strength to rise, he could only collapse into the cold, muddy grease stained with his own blood.

Cain the knight stepped forward, confirmed that he had lost the ability to resist, and then nodded to the guards.

"Tie him up. Make sure the knots are tight."

The guards swarmed forward, using prepared ropes to bind the barbarian captive.

Although he hadn't killed him, Ye Wei'an still received an experience notification.

[Defeated Lv.3 Barbarian, gained 400 experience points.]

The battle was over.

The attacking bandit group was either dead or had fled, and even their leader had been captured; it could be said they were completely wiped out.

The guards who had been chasing the bandits in the distance returned one after another.

Most of them carried spoils of war, and two of the guards were escorting a bandit underling.

"Young Master Ye Wei'an," one of them said, his face filled with excitement, "following your orders, we captured one alive!"

Seeing the demon who had burned over a dozen of their companions to death, the captive immediately lowered his head.

Ye Wei'an glanced at the ashen-faced captive and nodded: "You have done well."

Receiving his praise, the soldiers' faces showed expressions of excitement, and their chests puffed out instinctively.

According to the memories of the original owner, the guards had not held this attitude when they came to pick him up.

Back then, although they were still respectful, it was perfunctory in every way; they were even sluggish when helping him move his luggage, a far cry from the genuine awe they showed now.

In this world where the strong prey upon the weak, only strength could conquer others.