"Everyone! Draw your swords!"
"Stay behind the captain! Do whatever it takes to survive!"
Not a trace of his earlier fear or despair remained on Knight Viel's face.
His eyes were bloodshot as he stared fixedly at the tide of dark-red Cultists surging toward them and screamed hysterically at the few remaining First-Tier Knights beside him:
"Don't scatter! It'll be dark any minute!"
"Stick close to the damn captain! We're breaking out together!!"
The four players sandwiched in the middle of the group bounced on horseback.
They stared blankly at the Winterhold Knights around them, who suddenly seemed like entirely different people.
Just minutes ago, these knights had been complaining nonstop, their eyes filled with fear of the Cultists.
But now.
The moment Kairils charged at the head of the group, wreathed in wind and snow.
The cowardice and arrogance in their eyes were swept away in an instant!
In their place came a fervor and resolve that seemed to have been set ablaze!
It was a knight spirit that would burn its last light upon this Wasteland, even in the face of certain death!
Meanwhile, on the opposing side.
The hundred-plus Cultists from Blood-Weeping Ridge had expected to trap their prey. Instead, they watched the small band of knights charge straight at their hundred-strong force rather than turn and flee.
Every Cultist was stunned.
What the hell?
Just these few horses and handful of men?
Facing over a hundred of us, you won't run for your lives, and you actually dare charge our ranks?
"You're asking to die!!"
"You think we're nothing?!"
The Second-Tier Cultist captain in blood-red armor froze for a moment, then felt profoundly insulted!
The savagery in the eyes hidden beneath his helmet grew fiercer.
"A few beaten dogs who wouldn't even fill the Holy Lord's