The river lapped at the muddy banks and the reeds swayed in the howling wind.
More than a hundred Ironborn had just dragged the long boat ashore. They took off the axes and swords from their waists and threw them aside. They concentrated on dragging their cargo, with the excitement, greed and cruelty unique to the looters on their faces.
In their view, this fertile land is already within their grasp, just like women with undressed clothes waiting for their men. The cowards of Riverlands have long been frightened out of their wits. In this land of West Riverlands that has been ravaged by Ironborn, there is no resistance and no resistance.
A bearded Ironborn longship captain kept roaring, commanding many Ironborn: "Hurry! Hide our longship!"
"There is a small castle in the village ahead! The women and gold there are waiting for their real owners!"
The ironmen let out wild laughter. They did not send any scouts at all, nor did they think there would be any enemies here, or that anyone could come to find their plundering team of less than a hundred people. Their vigilance was completely washed away by the victory of the army.
They didn't know that behind the dense forests on both sides of the river bank, more than two hundred pairs of eyes were staring at them like a pack of wolves.
Suleiman stood quietly on his horse in the shadow of the forest. He watched the last Ironborn awkwardly jump off the ship, watched them hide the ship, watched them loosely gather together and head inland, watched them laugh wildly and get further and further away from their long ship.
The time had come. Suleiman did not make any cry, but slowly pulled out the long sword from his waist and pointed forward. This simple action was like lighting the fuse of a gunpowder barrel.
"For Riverlands!!"
The roar of Rosso Brune tore apart the tranquility of this land.
"For Riverlands!!"
"For Riverlands!!"
Immediately afterwards, the horse's hooves shattered the silence, the earth began to tremble, and thunderous war roars rang out from all directions. More than two hundred knights urged their horses and rushed out from their hiding places.
Ironborn The smiles on their faces instantly solidified and turned into extreme panic. They turned around and saw only a torrent of steel rushing from the shadows of the forest, and the tips of the lances flashed with a deadly cold light in the morning light.
"Enemy attack!"
"It's a knight!"
"Hurry up and form a formation!!!"
The warning sounds of the Ironborns were drowned in the thunder of horse hooves. The loosely formed Ironborns were as fragile as paper dolls in the face of the heavy cavalry's lances and group charges.
Rosso Brune took the lead and penetrated the enemy formation with a clear target. His lance accurately pierced the chest of the bearded captain Ironborn. The huge impact took the body off the ground and flew backwards like a rag bag.
The knights were like red-hot knives cutting through butter, easily tearing apart the hastily formed defense line of the Ironborns. They stabbed with spears, waved swords, trampled with horse hooves, and stained the grass on the river bank red with blood. This was a massacre, not a battle.
In less than a quarter of an hour, there were only groans and corpses left on the river bank. Except for a few panicked ones who jumped into the river to escape, more than a hundred Ironborn were killed. The escaped Ironborn and Bryn were about to draw their bows and shoot them, but were stopped by Suleiman. He needed these people to deliver the message.
Only a few people in Suleiman's team were slightly injured, and an unlucky knight fell off his horse and died. There were almost no casualties.
After the battle, the river bank was filled with a strong smell of blood. The knights silently cleaned up the battlefield. Following Suleiman's instructions, they piled up the half-dead Ironborn and burned them. The eyes they looked at Suleiman were full of indescribable shock and awe, even fanaticism.
A young knight from the Deddings family trembled and spoke to Sir Old Lopin beside him.
His voice had a hint of unreal vibrato. "Seven is on top...
,"This is already the fifth one!!!"
Sir Old Lopin did not answer, but silently wiped the blood on the sword, but the knuckles of his fingers holding the hilt of the sword had turned white. Yes, it was the fifth sword...
In the past day, they had accurately passed through the pursuing Ironborn army and galloped across this vast land, but they had never encountered Ironborn's main force or a force not equal to theirs.
Every time, like today, they can wait for work and accurately ambush a lone Ironborn team with just the right number of people. This is completely unreasonable. All of this is too weird, even weird and scary.
Sir Patrick. Morrison rode his horse and came to Bryn. His father and brothers all died in battle with Lord Deddings. His face that had always been miserable was now mixed with excitement and confusion:
"How is this possible?!!"
"Suleiman-sama seems to have a pair of eyes that can see through the entire Riverlands!"
"We can always avoid those tough guys, but like sharks that smell blood, we can accurately find their fragile supply team and plunder team!"
Bryn looked at the back of the quietly riding horse in the distance, his throat felt a little dry. He knew better than anyone else why Master could do all this, because Master Suleiman was an extraordinary person. It was a secret that he could not highlight even if he entered the grave.
A knight who was carrying a corpse suddenly stopped what he was doing. He looked up at Suleiman and murmured to himself in an almost pilgrim tone:
"Suleiman-sama is as if you have Seven's guidance.
This word seemed to have magic power and quickly spread among the knights.
"Guidelines from Seven."
"Seven gives orders to Lord Suleiman to defend our Riverlands from the hands of the infidels...
"I can't think of any explanation other than the Seven guide!!"
"We are favored by God!!!"
Enthusiasm and excitement danced in the eyes, turning the knights' faces red. The solemn and heroic spirit of dying generously when setting off had long since disappeared, replaced by a kind of fanatical belief.
All of this is contrary to common sense. No wonder Lord Suleiman is a famous general of Riverlands. No wonder he can win so many battles. It is so easy to fight with Lord Suleiman. They no longer doubt or fear. They begin to truly believe in the promise that Suleiman made before setting off.
He is not leading them to death, he is bringing them glory and a future.
The knights began to polish and polish their swords, feed their horses, and wait for the next massacre. They talked about the meritorious deeds, lands and titles they would obtain in the future, as if everything was within their reach. Their eyes looking at Suleiman were full of fanaticism.
Tytos. Blackwood, this noble Riverlands who believed in Old Gods and was well-informed, was also deeply shocked. He stood aside the team and looked at these knights who were caught up in fanaticism, feeling a little uneasy in his heart.
All this is so abnormal.
He took his long sword and walked to Suleiman who was studying the map. He said in a low voice tentatively, "Suleiman."
"Your scouts are the best I have ever seen, and they always bring back the most accurate intelligence.
,'
Suleiman raised his head and noticed the probing intention in Blackwood's words. With an unpredictable smile on his face, he spoke softly:
"It's Old Gods in the forest who is protecting us, Lord Blackwood."
"Seven and they do not want to see their homeland desecrated and desecrated by Ironborn heresy."
Tytos. Blackwood stared at Suleiman, not knowing what was going on in his heart.
Suleiman picked up his map and continued to look at it. The prediction that was miraculous in the eyes of others was as simple as breathing in his case. It felt good to keep asking for help from the flames. He no longer refused this power. As long as he offered Ironborn to the flames, the entire Riverlands dynamic was presented in his mind in a strange way.
He could then see that every enemy team was moving slowly above Riverlands. Their size, their direction, and their intentions were all very clear. To him, this war was no longer an evenly matched battle.
This is a game of cat and mouse.
Ironborn thinks he is a cat, and Riverlands people are mice, but now he is a cat, and all Ironborn who set foot on this land have become his mice.
Suleiman is using these small-scale victories to feed the confidence and fanaticism of his group of knights. Eliminating these stragglers is just an appetizer.
The corners of his mouth curved into a cold arc.
It's time for the game to enter the next stage.