Hyperdimensional Player

Chapter 20: Single-handedly defeating an army! Unrivaled warrior! Extra chapter for leader Luo Li Qibelin!

A 5,000-word chapter with additional content. Congratulations to the leader, the wealthy little girl Luo Li Qibelin!

"go!"

Duncan galloped on his horse, and although everyone didn't know why, they all followed him.

A strong smell of blood hit his face.

By the time Duncan and his group arrived, there were nearly a hundred corpses on the battlefield. The exiles were unable to break through the chariot formation, but were unwilling to leave, so they could only trap the enemy in the middle of the road.

The private mercenaries in the convoy were not afraid at all.

A leader-like figure even had the energy to order his soldiers to prepare food and wine. They had been trapped here for several hours, and the soldiers needed to eat to replenish their energy after the fierce battle. Furthermore, with the convoy trapped here, the nearby towns and manors would surely react. Reinforcements would arrive soon, and with only twenty or thirty cavalrymen, they could easily crush the remnants of the rebels.

Two or three hundred exile rebels watched helplessly as the private mercenaries devoured the meat!
The pale and skinny exiles nearby couldn't help swallowing their saliva, and some of them even sneaked over, trying to go to the edge of the convoy where the corpses were piled, to pick up the scattered food on the ground and eat it.

call out!
A barbarian mercenary soldier drew his strong bow, aimed at the exile, and shot an arrow that went straight through his chest. Blood foamed from his mouth, and the exile fell to the ground, unable to get up. He was already breathing more than he was breathing in.

"Hahaha!"

"This bunch of rebellious pariahs!"

The barbarian soldiers in the chariot formation laughed loudly and seemed to be in high spirits.

On the other hand, many of the exile rebels looked reluctant and their morale was extremely low. If they had not really had no way to survive, they would have been defeated long ago.

Their only advantage is their numbers.

But the last time they attacked the chariot formation, the barbarian mercenary leader actually dared to lead more than ten people to charge next to the chariot formation, killing more than thirty of them in one breath, and then calmly retreated back to the chariot formation under the cover of archers.

He looked so brave and ferocious, as if he didn't take them seriously at all.

There were three leaders of the exile rebel army. One of them was killed by elite forest archers, and another was hacked to death while clinging to the chariot formation. Now there is only one middle-aged man in his thirties left. He has a sallow and haggard face, and looks like a down-and-out soldier from his clothes, with Gallic ethnic features.

He wanted to retreat at this time, but if he retreated, many people here would starve to death, and most of them would not survive until the arrival of winter.

Even if they managed to survive until winter, they would still die without food and supplies.

"Gather all those in armor to follow me!"

Kveto gritted his teeth and said to his fellow countrymen, "Let's charge again! Otherwise, we won't have a chance once the enemy reinforcements arrive."

He is planning to fight to the death.

If they cannot break through the chariot formation, they will die sooner or later, and they will not be able to survive even if they hide in the deep mountains and forests.

Two of the three leaders are dead, and now he is full of blood and wants to fight to the death!
All just to survive.

at this time.

The sound of horse hooves echoed from nearby, and Quveto's face changed in terror, thinking it was enemy cavalry reinforcements arriving. These exiled rebels were all serfs and slaves, lacking any decent weapons or equipment. Even if they encountered a light cavalry unit, they would be routed like chickens and dogs.

Inside the chariot formation, the barbarian mercenaries also looked surprised. As long as the cavalry arrived, they would charge out of the chariot formation and kill the leader. The rebels would be finished immediately.

Five riders appeared at the intersection not far away.

The barbarian mercenaries looked disappointed. This was obviously not reinforcements, but more like a group of travelers passing by.

Five men and five horses.

There were two men and three women. One of them carried a bow and a sword, looking very powerful. One of them looked rough, like a Gallic barbarian. Two of the other three women were very beautiful. Just by looking at them from a distance, one could tell that they were beauties.

The exile rebels were ready to make a move all around, but they were all riders and they couldn't catch up.

Quveto immediately ordered his men to restrain themselves, and then sent someone to shout at the five riders, asking them to go around from another direction.

For some reason, one of them made him feel vaguely uneasy. Even the old gladiator who had taught him combat had never frightened him so much. Gladiator combat had long been banned within the empire, but some nobles still privately raised gladiators to fight for their own amusement. Most of the gladiators were slaves, and occasionally they were used for gambling.

There are very few gladiators in the empire nowadays. The only ones left are secretly raised by the nobles. They just pick some slaves, train them for a period of time, and use them to fight for fun.

"You stay here!"

Duncan nodded slightly to the Raven Queen, Triss, and rode out alone, approaching the battlefield.

His face was grim at this moment, as if he were a ruthless warrior. His aura was so intimidating that the exiled rebels were afraid to move forward and instead scattered to the left and right.

These people are a group of serfs and slaves who can't survive, so how can they have much fighting power?

If the gladiators had not joined the Spartacus uprising, it would have been suppressed and massacred by the imperial legions in minutes.

Nock the bow!

Projectile at a forty-five degree angle.

Duncan did not get too close to the exile rebels. He shot an arrow, and a muffled groan was heard above the chariot formation. Immediately, a barbarian mercenary fell down, covering his throat.

The hundreds of people present were shocked!

The barbarian mercenary leader was horrified and instantly grabbed a shield to protect himself. The surrounding exile rebels were in an uproar. Duncan's action was undeniable; he was a friend, not an enemy. Even Queveto was surprised and incredulous as he watched the lone rider draw his bow again.

——Rest in peace, my horse!

Another person was shot in the head in the traffic jam.

After all, it was just a chariot formation, not a city wall. There were gaps between the chariots, forming a defensive terrain. A barbarian mercenary archer quietly peeked out, but before he could draw his bow, a sharp arrow whistled through the air and shot his head off.

"Sharpshooter?!"

The Barbarian Mercenaries' morale changed directly from 'High' to 'Shaken'.

Three arrows, three heads.

Even the most elite barbarian forest archers couldn't do it. Perhaps only the legendary eagle shooters of the Huns could possess such amazing archery skills. (Each Hun tribe had only one or two eagle shooters.)
The exile rebels were in an uproar, some were ready to make a move, and some scattered to the left and right, not daring to interfere with Duncan's horse riding and archery on the battlefield.

From God's perspective.

All the Exile rebels were first marked as yellow neutral, and then turned into blue marked units.

——Rest in peace, my horse!

It seemed that some of the barbarian mercenaries in the chariot formation were still unwilling to give up. They peeked out from the gap between the chariot frames. As soon as they showed their heads, they were shot by a sharp arrow at an extremely tricky angle and pierced their leather helmets.

What a sharpshooter!

Now no one dared to question it. The barbarian mercenaries didn't dare to show up at all, and the morale of the surrounding exile rebels soared.

The opposite side does not show its head.

Even if he doesn't show his head, Duncan still has a way.

He rode his horse up to a boy of fifteen or sixteen. The boy was dressed in rags like a slave, with brands on his arms and tattered clothes that could not cover his back, which was covered with whip marks. The boy held a simple short spear and looked tremblingly at Duncan who stopped in front of him on horseback.

"Give it to me." Duncan's tone left no room for doubt.

The blue-marked slave boy did not dare to resist at all and directly handed the spear to Duncan.

Duncan weighed it for a moment and shouted towards the front: "Get out of the way!"

He sped up his horse, scaring the surrounding exile rebels into retreating in all directions. Then Duncan took a deep breath and suddenly threw the spear in his hand like a javelin.

Ah!
A scream came from the traffic jam.

The javelin thrown by Duncan pierced through the enemy and killed a barbarian mercenary squeezed in.

Four kills!

The exile rebels besieged the chariot formation several times but failed to kill many people. Duncan rode in a circle and killed four people in a row. This fighting power frightened the morale of the barbarian mercenaries, and the nearby exile rebels looked up in fear, not daring to look him in the eye.

"Listen to my orders!"

Duncan's loud shout was like thunderclap out of nowhere, frightening Kveto who was not far away so much that he trembled.

He had no doubt that on this battlefield, the sharpshooter with amazing strength could kill anyone he wanted. His existence made him think of the human heroes in myths and legends, or the warriors favored by gods in the stories told by the barbarians.

A loud shout!
Nearly one-third of the exile rebels became green-marked units, and the slave boy in front of Duncan followed them subconsciously.

——Exile rebels (undisciplined) (low morale) (poorly equipped) [mixed peasants]!
Who is this? !
Quveto's mind was in a mess. The single man on horseback entered the battlefield and began to help them. With his amazing strength and unparalleled bravery, he turned the situation around in an instant, restored the low morale of the exile rebels, and made the barbarian mercenaries panic.

Horse hooves.

The exiled rebels scattered to the left and right. Duncan rode his horse through the crowd and approached Quveto directly, making his companions nervous.

"Are you their leader?"

A deep male voice full of pressure sounded, making Kveto feel a little difficult to breathe.

Who is this person?

Kveto gritted his teeth and looked up at the other person's face. The moment he looked directly into his eyes, he seemed to see heads rolling and blood spreading from the ground.

How many people has this man killed?

Kveto only held out for a moment before being forced back by the man's sharp and merciless gaze. He subconsciously lowered his head and said, "Yes, sir." Duncan said in a low voice, "Follow my orders!"

"You lead everyone around you to attack the chariot formation from the right, and the others will split into two teams to attack the front and back."

"Do you understand?"

A loud shout!
Kveto shuddered and responded subconsciously, "Yes, sir!"

In an instant.

From a God's perspective, all the exile rebels turned into green units. Seeing that he obeyed orders, Kveto's subordinates immediately took up their weapons and shields.

not far away.

Four people and four horses.

Severus was dumbfounded, while the witch Anya's eyes widened, her delicate body trembling slightly. It was unclear what she was thinking, as she stared intently at Duncan, who was riding alone in the distance. Although Triss, the Raven Queen, had long witnessed Duncan's miraculous qualities, she was still stunned in amazement, her beautiful eyes filled with a dazzling light.

In just a few minutes, the exiled rebels seemed to have become Duncan's subordinates, following his orders to attack the chariot formation in front of them from three sides.

Surrounded on three sides and missing one!

Although they didn't know why Duncan gave such an order, this group of unorganized and undisciplined exile rebels did it anyway. They began to regroup in a disorderly manner and attacked the chariot formation in front of them from three directions, but they did not attack in one direction.

The traffic jam became chaotic almost instantly.

Kveto didn't know what was going on. He just led his men forward in a daze and attacked the chariot formation as he did before. But for some reason, the enemy resistance this time was not as fierce, and they didn't even dare to fight them head-on with swords.

Soon, someone climbed over the traffic jam and engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the people inside.

No.

Who is that person?

Where was I? Why should I obey his orders?

Kveto chopped a barbarian mercenary to the ground with one sword, and his mind still feels confused.

But soon the cheers of the exile rebels were heard.

When Kveto looked up, he saw a sharp arrow flying through the air. Not far away, a barbarian soldier wearing an iron helmet was shot dead. That was the enemy leader. The next second, the enemies began to collapse. Several fierce barbarian mercenaries snatched horses and tried to break through and escape from the direction where there were no enemies.

As soon as they fled, the entire barbarian mercenary army was in chaos.

The chariot array fell on three sides.

The remaining enemies were retreating towards the gap, and in a blink of an eye, several of them were hacked to the ground.

"Are we going to win now?" Kveto felt even more confused.

These barbarian mercenaries were well-equipped, their weapons and armor close to those of the Imperial Field Army. In the previous assaults, facing enemies that outnumbered them several times, they hacked the exiled rebels to pieces, and except for leaving behind a pile of corpses of their companions, they did not pose much threat to the enemy at all.

This time, half of the enemy was directly chopped down, and the remaining people were demoralized. They formed a formation to protect themselves. Some wanted to push the formation aside and escape. Those who had initially tried to grab horses and escape had already run hundreds of meters away.

The man did not order a pursuit.

There was no way to catch up with them, as the Exile Rebels didn't have a single rider.

He was still shooting arrows slowly outside the battlefield, killing one enemy with each arrow. Every time he put an arrow on the bow, there would be cheers and shouts, and the morale of the exile rebels was getting higher and higher.

I don’t know when.

Duncan now had a spear in his hand, and he spurred his horse and charged into the enemy camp.

——Lance charge!
With sparks of lightning, he broke through the formation alone!
Duncan thrust the spear in his hand straight through the body of an enemy!

Then, he picked up the barbarian soldier who weighed nearly 150 kilograms with one hand, clamped the gun handle under his armpit, the veins on his arm bulged, and with a loud shout like thunder, he lifted the corpse directly above the height of the horse's head!
The war horses neigh!

The entire battlefield was dead silent.

The spear Duncan held under his arm cracked under the weight. When he dropped the body he had held above the horse's head to the ground, the spear's handle had bent and the hard wood had cracked. The spear was almost unusable.

In an instant, cheers and shouts like a landslide and tsunami rang out!
The barbarian rebels among the exiles roared and howled to the sky, and some even beat their chests frantically, roaring and rushing forward to chop down the enemies whose faces were full of horror and who had no desire to fight at all.

The barbarian rebels on both sides protected Duncan with their bodies, like the chieftain's guards in ancient Rome. He drew his Oathkeeper sword and split the enemy's shield with one blow.

Blood spurts!

The enemy's formation that they tried to form to protect themselves was broken in an instant.

After chasing for a long time, when Kveto stopped to catch his breath and look around the battlefield, he saw exiles behind him carrying food and making fire to cook.

"No."

"Where am I? Who am I?"

Kveto's head was buzzing. Just when he chopped down a barbarian mercenary, he was hit hard on the head by the opponent's shield. Although he blocked a lot of attacks, he was still a little dizzy.

in the crowd.

Duncan ordered the exiles to clean up the battlefield expressionlessly, and then had someone light a fire and cook so that these hungry rebels could have a full meal.

It only took about ten minutes.

The Raven Queen - Triss and her group watched as Duncan single-handedly broke through the army, intimidated the bandit leader, issued orders to his left and right, surrounded three sides and left one side open, and with a powerful attack, defeated the barbarian private army, and then the entire battle was over.

Severus' eyes were as big as copper bells, and the witch Anya's face was flushed. She was trembling slightly and twisting her legs while riding on horseback.

The Raven Queen - Triss also trembled slightly, staring at Duncan not far away, without saying a word for a long time.

"Have I been dethroned?"

Kveto's mind finally came to its senses. The exiled rebels around him looked at that man with awe and respect. Even his own subordinates followed him around, as if they were the general's personal guards.

He must have been usurped.

Queveto cut off the heads of his enemies, as was his custom, but he found it unnecessary.

The crowd gradually separated.

Surrounded by the exile rebels, the man came on horseback and stopped in front of Quveto.

Eye contact.

Subconsciously, Kveto immediately stood at attention, as if he was accepting the inspection of the commander.

The man nodded slightly and said in a deep voice, "Let's go eat."

"After eating, take someone to transport the food back."

Kveto said with full energy: "Yes."

It was not until the man rode away that he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know why, but he had no thought of resisting at all.

I dare not have.

Who is this?

He took away his military power in just ten minutes and commanded the exile rebels to defeat the enemy. The way those exiles looked at that man was as if they were looking at a "god-man".

But he himself was a little scared.

Too scary!

There were more than 300 exile rebels, but he killed more than a dozen of them. The rest of the enemies were killed by that man.

Fork in the road.

Duncan rode his horse forward without blushing or panting. He nodded slightly to the Raven Queen, Triss, and said softly, "The town is not safe either."

"We won't go into the city this way. We'll go to Britain from somewhere else."

After saying this, he glanced at the exiles and said, "These people are familiar with the surrounding environment. They can help us contact the fleet."

The Raven Queen, Triss, was so smart that she immediately understood what Duncan meant.

She glanced at the exiles and said softly, "You decide."

Duncan wants to conquer them.

Severus looked thoughtful, and the witch Anya's beautiful eyes were fixed on him. Unfortunately, Duncan didn't even look at her twice, except that his eyes initially fell on the Raven Queen Triss, and soon he began to direct the exiles to carry supplies.

The Raven Queen, Triss, glanced at Anya casually, her expression expressionless, but her eyes narrowed slightly.

in the crowd.

Although no one knows who that man is, he is now the leader of this group of exiles!
This is a chaotic world.

The strong are respected!
………………

(End of this chapter)