I was a knight in the Middle Ages

“That’s better than waiting to die here!” Alpha’s eyes were sharp as knives, sweeping over Old John and every knight watching him.

"Those who are willing to take a gamble with me, pick up your weapons and come with me! Those who are not, you can leave now, I will not force you to stay!"

After these words were spoken, the surroundings fell silent.

Alpha's ruthlessness and decisiveness sent a chill down everyone's spine.

Clearly, Alpha is not entirely indifferent to the survival of these followers, but faced with harsh reality, he must make a choice.

He also knew that people's hearts are the most vulnerable to temptation; most people only care about whether they can survive and have enough to eat right now.

How can one talk about loyalty when even basic needs like food and clothing cannot be guaranteed?

From the very beginning, this team was destined to be constantly selected and eliminated through trials of blood and fire.

Just as tensions were running high and people were on edge, a dark figure emerged from the pile of rocks ahead like a ghost—it was Peter, who had returned!

"Come with me." Alpha's expression shifted, and he immediately led Peter into the makeshift tent.

Old John, his younger brother Murat, and Zahir, who had just joined them, followed closely behind, and the atmosphere inside the tent instantly became heavy.

“Sir, I have discovered two extremely well-hidden areas deep within the rocky slope. The entrances are cleverly concealed by boulders and vegetation, and they are very likely the hideouts of bandits.” Peter spread out a simple map.

Peter clearly circled two locations on the ground with his finger, "The guards there are well hidden, but there are many signs of patrols."

Peter paused, a hint of confusion and surprise flashing in his eyes, before continuing his report: "But the strangest thing is that at the end of the rocky slope, I discovered a regular cavalry unit! They were brazenly blocking the exit, making no attempt to conceal themselves. There were about five hundred of them, well-equipped, with gleaming armor; they didn't seem like roving bandits, but rather like the Empire's regular army!"

"How many people? What's their equipment like?" Alpha's heart sank, and he pressed for an answer.

“About five hundred men, all elite cavalry. They were just there, brazenly stationed, as if…waiting for something,” Peter said in a deep voice.

Alpha and Zahir exchanged a glance, both seeing shock and understanding in each other's eyes.

Needless to say, this regular knightly order was probably sent by Bayezid to intercept and kill them!

Their whereabouts were already known to the other side.

"Zahir, Murat!" Alpha made a decisive decision, pointing to the map and ordering, "Each of you select one hundred of your most elite and loyal warriors to form the core knight order. The rest, regardless of age or gender, will be placed under Old John's unified command and remain in place!"

Alpha stared at the bandit's lair marked by Peter on the map, his eyes flashing coldly: "Strategy change. We'll go into the rocky slope first and take care of these bandits! The regular knights' advantage in warhorses and numbers is useless in the complex terrain of the rocky slope, which is actually our opportunity!"

Alpha already had a plan in mind.

On the other side, the regular knightly order of five hundred men was the elite force that Bayezid had dispatched to completely eliminate any future troubles.

To ensure everything went smoothly, another 500 people had already quietly dispersed.

They lay in ambush on high ground around the rocky slope, forming a huge encirclement to prevent Alpha and the others from breaking out separately.

Therefore, the regular knightly order did not consist of five hundred people, but rather one thousand.

"Commander Tony, the enemy has completely entered the Rocky Slope!" A scout hidden in the shadows relayed the message to the Knights at the end of the Rocky Slope using a special communication method.

At the open space at the end of the rocky slope, stood a middle-aged man dressed in magnificent armor, with a face full of fierce features—Tony.

“No rush,” said Tony, the nobleman’s steward who had been sent by Bayezid to oversee the army.

With a cruel smile on his face, like a cat catching a mouse, he said, "Let the 'hungry wolves' in the rocky slope take a bite first. These bandits are our best scouts."

……

"Lord Alpha, an unidentified force has been detected rapidly approaching from three miles to the right!" Peter's figure flashed back into the tent, his voice urgent.

"Perfect timing!" Alpha sneered, a sly glint in his eyes.

"Murat, Zahir, take your men and immediately set up an ambush in the valley on the right! Remember, don't linger, catch them off guard, and don't pursue them!"

Alpha turned to Peter and whispered, "Once the enemy is routed and flees, you immediately infiltrate them and find out the strength of their stronghold, especially the location of their granaries and water sources! My goal is clear—to raid the enemy's stronghold and solve our food problem!"

“I won’t help you at all,” Athena, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke.

She leaned against the corner of the tent, wiping her longsword in her hand, her tone still indifferent.

“Lady Athena,” Alpha said without turning his head, taking Fanxing’s small hand and handing it to Athena, “Take good care of Fanxing for me. As for the rest, let me, the leader of this 'rabble,' handle it. I dare not expect you and the Knights to lend a hand.”

Alpha never even considered relying on Athena's powerful but secretive squad.

Although they were capable of easily defeating the five hundred regular knights, Alpha had to keep this trump card hidden; once it was used, it would likely be the end.

The battle suddenly broke out a few moments later.

The vanguard of the Hungry Wolf Bandit Gang expected to carry out an easy massacre of a group of frightened birds, as usual.

However, they did not expect that what awaited them was not panicked fugitives, but a carefully laid death trap.

Murat and Zahir led two hundred core knights, who were poorly equipped and whose weapons were mostly made up on the spot.

But these men were all battle-hardened veterans who had survived the oppression of the Colosseum and the nobility, and they had extremely rich combat experience.

Taking advantage of the terrain, they launched a swift and decisive attack from a superior position.

The battle was one-sided.

The bandits' supposed ferocity proved utterly ineffective against this organized ambush.

Screams and wails instantly echoed through the valley.

When the bandit vanguard was routed and fled in disarray, Murat and Zahir's men even tried to seize the weapons and small amount of valuables abandoned by the enemy.

They had a heated argument on the battlefield, and almost came to blows.

The chaos was only quelled when Alpha arrived, drew a clear line on the ground with his longsword, and roared to stop him.

Of course, all of this was within Alpha's expectations and tacit approval.

They need to show the enemy that although this team is capable of fighting, it is essentially a mob that will kill each other for their own benefit.

Showing weakness to the enemy is the only way to lure out more "fish".

"Useless! You bunch of useless trash! A sneak attack by two hundred men, and you've lost half of my men!" Inside the camp of the Hungry Wolf Bandit Gang, the gang leader, Tierman, was furious upon hearing the news of the defeat. He kicked the centurion, who had fled back, to the ground.

"Boss, calm down!" the deserter captain pleaded in terror, his face covered in blood.

"There are too many enemies! They're everywhere! We just charged in when thousands of them popped up in the middle, then from the right, and then from the left! We couldn't hold them off at all, and it was only with great difficulty that we managed to break through their encirclement!"

"They...didn't pursue you?" The strategist beside him narrowed his eyes, keenly seizing the flaw in the statement.

"No! After we escaped, we saw them acting like madmen, looting the equipment, weapons, and food we left behind. Nobody was chasing us!" the deserter captain said, still shaken.

“I see,” the strategist stroked his chin, a hint of contempt flashing in his eyes. “Get out of here! You’ll lead the charge later. If you fail again this time, you can come back with your head!”

After the deserters had retreated, the strategist analyzed to Tilman: "Commander, it seems that although the enemy has a large number of people, they are loosely organized and undisciplined. These people are probably a mob that hastily gathered to fight for spoils, and their combat strength is limited. However, the fact that they were able to set up an ambush shows that they are not entirely without strength."

"Strategist, how many men do we plan to take this time?" Although Tirman was reckless, he wasn't stupid. He knew that if the other side could win once, they could win a second time.

"This time, we'll go all out!" A cold glint flashed in the strategist's eyes. "Send out five hundred main force members, along with a thousand auxiliary troops, and aim for a complete annihilation in one battle!"

"So... does this mean we're left with only 500 main force members and some old, weak, sick, and disabled people in our base?" Tierman was somewhat surprised; it was practically the entire force that had come out.

"That's precisely why we need to finish this quickly!" The strategist sneered, a ruthless glint in his eyes.

"Those auxiliary troops, the elderly, women, and children are fine for boosting morale and doing hard labor in normal times, but in a real fight, they would be a burden and a hidden danger. If we send out all the auxiliary troops, and if there is any change in the camp, the remaining five hundred main force can kill a few 'chickens' to scare the 'monkeys,' and it will be as easy as cutting melons and vegetables."

His plan was ruthless and cruel—to use cannon fodder to wear down the enemy and use the main force to reap the victory.

As for the hidden dangers in the rear, it's not too late to deal with them after we return victorious.

"Good!" Tirman slapped his thigh. In order to show off his achievements to his noble master, he decided to take charge himself. "I'll lead the team myself! Strategist, the camp is in your hands!"

This time, Peter's prior notice was not needed.

Because the enemy's formation was too large, they had no intention of concealing themselves at all.

The earth trembled slightly under the heavy footsteps and hooves of horses, dust billowed up, obscuring the sky.

The Hungry Wolf Bandit Gang mobilized almost its entire force, with 500 elite main force members in front and 1,000 servants following closely behind.

A dark mass, like a black torrent of steel, swept in with a bloody storm.

Looking at the bandit army that had an absolute advantage in numbers, equipment, and momentum, the "rabble" under Alpha's command lost all color in their faces and their eyes were filled with fear and regret.

Even old John, who was in charge of the central army, was trembling slightly with his hand holding the longsword.

A chill ran through him, and he couldn't help but wonder if following Alpha was a one-way street to hell.

"Perfect timing! Let them see that although we are down on our luck, we are by no means cowards! The glory of a knight belongs to the battlefield!" Alpha stood tall on the broad back of the armored rhinoceros.

Facing the oncoming sandstorm, he raised his spear high and let out a deafening roar.

"Kill!" Alpha roared.

The giant beast let out a deep roar and charged out like an arrow released from a bow!

However, very few riders responded to Alpha's call.

Faced with an absolute disparity in strength, fear triumphed over passion.

At this moment, Alpha appeared to others like a reckless madman, charging alone into the black ocean.

"We can't continue to be so pathetic! We are knights! Our glory belongs to the battlefield!" Old John looked at the familiar bandit banner in front of him, the one that had once knocked him down from the dust, and a surge of blood rushed from his dantian to the top of his head.

He let out a tragic roar, brandished his longsword, and led less than two hundred knights, whose eyes were also filled with tears, to follow!

However, these mere two hundred people were nothing compared to the seven or eight hundred civilian knights behind them who were still hesitating and trembling.