His first fight to the death

His grip on the longsword tightened slightly, and its edge traced a cold gleam through the dim light,

as he thrust at the older brawny man's chest with resolute killing intent, his goal clear-a kill in one strike!

The brawny men clearly hadn't expected this seemingly young fellow to be so fearless, daring to charge straight through the sheep and launch a surprise attack on their leader!

For a moment, brief bewilderment and startled cries erupted within the encirclement.

The older brawny man leading them reacted fairly quickly. He gripped a hatchet, a vicious grin on his face, seemingly mocking Redd's recklessness.

Yet the instant they actually clashed, that grin froze, replaced by incredulous horror.

The strength behind Redd's strike far exceeded anything he had imagined!

The hatchet barely caught Redd's blade, but tremendous force traveled through the sword and the axe handle, slamming into his arm.

With a soft crack, his entire arm instantly went numb from the impact, and the web of his hand split open,

blood dripping down the axe handle as the hatchet nearly flew from his grasp.

He couldn't help staggering back two steps, his eyes full of terror.

Redd hadn't expected the old fellow to be so tough either. He had put nearly seventy percent of his strength into that strike, yet the man had actually blocked it!

But he didn't hesitate at all, instantly changing his move. The moment his sword tip touched the hatchet, he turned it into a vicious horizontal slash.

At that moment, he had only one thought: I have to kill him! Make an example of him-take off the head first, then find a way to survive!

The shield in his left hand swept across his front like a moving fortress, forcibly blocking the weapons swung at him by two other brawny men amid an unbroken clang of metal.

Meanwhile, the longsword in his right hand shot out like a venomous snake from its hole, stabbing precisely and ruthlessly at the older brawny man's chest.

The older brawny man was utterly horrified. It was already too late to block; he felt only a chill in his chest, followed by excruciating pain,

and without so much as a grunt, he clutched his chest and slowly collapsed, incredulous terror still lingering in his eyes.

With their leader dead, the brawny men around him immediately panicked.

Some turned deathly pale with fear and even backed away involuntarily;

but more were filled with rage and animal savagery. Enraged by their companion's death, they roared and brandished their weapons, lunging at Redd again.

Redd drew a deep breath, a ruthless glint flashing through his eyes.

He swung his longsword wildly, its flashing blade forming a dense barrier around him,

each slash whistling through the air, driving back or cutting the brawny men charging at him.

At the same time, he used the shield in his left hand to its utmost, not only blocking attacks from the front,

but also protecting his flanks and back, which the shield couldn't fully cover, as much as possible.

Even so, he felt a sudden pain in his back as two sharp forces raked across it. Although his shield absorbed most of the impact,

the sharp blades still left two wounds deep enough to expose bone across his back. Agonizing pain instantly spread through his entire body, drawing a muffled grunt from him.

But he didn't stop. Instead, he slashed even more wildly. He knew this battle had only just begun.

Far from stripping Redd of his will to fight, the intense pain acted like a powerful stimulant, igniting a deeper, more primal ferocity within him.

His gaze became as sharp as a bloodthirsty beast's, his pupils contracting slightly as he locked onto every approaching enemy.

Every swing of his longsword carried overwhelming force, and wherever its edge passed, the gruesome sounds of bones shattering and flesh tearing often followed.

Most of the brawny men surrounding him were merely desperadoes accustomed to living on the edge of a blade. They might have been experienced, and they might have possessed some brute strength,

but against Redd's nearly frenzied attacks, with every strike delivered at full strength, they seemed utterly fragile.

Many couldn't even fully block his attacks and were cut to the ground with a single stroke, blood gushing from their wounds like fountains,

splashing onto Redd's face, clothes, and armor, staining his otherwise rather fine-featured face until it looked hideous and terrifying.

In just a few breaths, Redd had hacked down more than a dozen enemies through sheer, almost absurdly overwhelming strength.

Bodies lay strewn across the ground, and the air hung heavy with the smells of blood and dust. The scene was a complete shambles.

As time passed, Redd's slashes didn't slow but instead grew fiercer, and the number of enemies he killed continued to rise.

However, Redd himself was not unscathed.

Sword edges and spearpoints occasionally broke through the defenses of his shield and blade, leaving wounds of varying depths on his body.

But he seemed not to feel them-or rather, he simply had no time to attend to them.

Almost the instant a wound appeared, a faint, barely perceptible warmth spread from the depths of his consciousness,

swiftly mending torn flesh and dispelling the piercing pain.

The system's silent medical repair function allowed him to return to his original state almost immediately after each injury, as though those wounds had never existed.

But the tears and slashes in his clothes were real proof of those attacks.

Tattered strips of cloth hung from his body, fluttering with his movements as though silently recounting the danger he had just faced.

Once the number of dead and wounded companions reached a certain point, the remaining brawny men finally felt an unprecedented terror.

They retreated in fear, their eyes full of wariness, no longer daring to charge forward as fearlessly as before.

Only then did they realize that this seemingly young enemy before them was no easy nut for them to crack.

More and more of them began glancing about, clearly already calculating how to slip away and save their own lives.

Unfortunately, escape was no longer possible for them.

The encirclement had been broken, and their formation had long since fallen into complete disarray,

and besides, so much time had been wasted,

they had no idea whether anyone outside had noticed anything unusual here, much less any way to organize an effective retreat.

Despair began slowly engulfing them like an icy tide.

The brawny men surrounding Redd were finally scared out of their wits.

They looked at this young man before them, drenched in blood, his gaze as cold as a blade, and at his figure still standing tall despite his ragged clothes,

and some felt their legs weaken and began stumbling backward involuntarily, their faces filled with the desire to live, wanting only to escape this hellish place as quickly as possible.

But those thoughts of escape had come too late after all.

For at the very instant they tried to scatter and flee in utter terror, a deafening roar rang out from the sky!