Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

In the courtyard of Nebakov Castle, the chilling and bloody smell had not completely dissipated, and the soil mixed with blood and urine made it difficult to walk.

Peter's griffin warriors, like efficient worker ants, were clearing the battlefield. The disarmed Prague collaborators, their armor stained with mud, were dejectedly driven into corners, their eyes filled with fear and bewilderment. Weapons were piled high, flags trampled on the ground; the order of victory was being rapidly established.

Peter stood in the center of the courtyard, his armor, stained with the dark red blood of his enemies, reflecting a cold, hard luster in the sunlight. He removed his helmet; his short red hair, soaked with sweat, clung to his forehead, but his deep eyes shone brightly as he surveyed the entire battlefield.

Yesterday's trench ambush, combined with today's castle raid, resulted in a large amount of experience points from killing enemies. Peter himself gained 100% experience points from kills, while his subordinates gained 50% from kills, propelling Peter from level 6 to level 10 in one go. He also gained 20 free attribute points, 20 skill points, and 4 talent points.

Indeed, war is the best way to level up; small-scale fighting is too slow.

彼得打开自己的人物面板，开始加点。主属性：力量30、敏捷22、活力13、智力12、魅力12；次属性：爆发15、防御15、闪避15、口才17、视野15。

Strength has reached its maximum of 30 points for now and cannot be increased further.

He allocated 8 points to Agility, maxing it out; a warm current surged from the soles of his feet, unlike before—not a gentle trickle, but like a rushing river, violently washing over every vein, nerve, and muscle fiber in Peter's body. It was like a hammer slamming into his chest, creating a tremendous resonance. A few seconds later, the comfortable feeling vanished, and Peter felt a holistic sense of elevation. Every muscle group in his body felt as flexible as a spring, ready to unleash ultimate speed at any moment.

With 30 points of strength and 30 points of speed, Peter is almost unbeatable in one-on-one combat.

His vitality increased by 2 points, reaching 15 points: A familiar warm current burst forth along his spine once again, like a trickle of water nourishing a parched riverbed, transforming his body and giving him a continuous ability to recover.

Intelligence increased by 5 points, reaching 17 points: The world before him became clearer again, and both his memory and comprehension improved significantly. Many details of life and combat were almost completely imprinted in his mind, which he could access at any time.

His charm increased by 5 points, reaching 17 points: Although his appearance remained unchanged, he exuded a subtle yet captivating aura that inspired longing in others.

Sigh, 20 attribute points seem like a lot, but I haven't even improved my secondary attributes yet and they're already used up.

20 skill points don't go by in the blink of an eye.

He added 4 points to swordsmanship, raising it to level 25, reaching the advanced master level. To improve further, he must win against multiple swordsmanship masters to break through the threshold.

Add 6 points to riding skill, raising it to level 15;

Add 5 points to archery, raising it to level 8;

Add 3 points to academics to upgrade to level 6;

Add 2 points to Stealth, raising it to level 7;

Peter chose four blue talent points.

Mighty Grip: The higher your Strength attribute, the easier it is to knock down or kill enemies undetected.

Light as a feather: Your jumping ability has improved, allowing you to easily climb to high places. Even if you jump from a height, you will not suffer fatal injuries.

Spiritual Stance: Makes it easier to dodge ranged and melee attacks, and reduces the stamina cost of dodging by 40%.

Handsome Man: You will gain reputation more easily and receive a special attack effect when facing women.

After adding points, Peter's stats are as follows:

Name: Peter Griffin

Level: lv10 (2530/3000)

Height: 190 cm

Weight: 90 kg

Life: 100/100

Energy: 100/100 (daily - 21 PM)

Nutrition: 100/145 (daily - 21 PM)

Stamina: 300/300 (+15 points per second)

Weight limit: 218/390 (lbs)

Wealth: 45198 Grossington

主属性：力量30、敏捷30、活力15、智力17、魅力17

次属性：爆发15、防御15、闪避15、口才17、视野15。

技能：剑术lv25、骑术lv15、射术lv8、拳脚lv5、投掷lv6、生存lv5、饮酒lv2、驯兽lv2、学术lv6、潜行lv7

Talents: Diligent youth, skillful hands, pure mind and body, keen observation, silent cat-like gait, animal-friendly, strong grip, light as a feather, spiritual posture, handsome man.

Remaining points: 0 attribute points, 0 skill points, 0 talent points.

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Peter swelled up completely, his armor stretched taut, almost bursting through the straps. Peter felt he could fight two versions of himself from before.

Meanwhile, the tomcat Carter had planted the griffin banner, a symbol of power and victory, atop the castle's main tower. The banner fluttered in the breeze, announcing the change of ownership.

"Sir," John Big Mouth reported in a deep voice, his face beaming with the excitement of a victor, "a preliminary count revealed that we captured 237 enemy soldiers, including 54 lightly wounded and 20 seriously wounded who require treatment. We also seized one intact bronze cannon, 300 bundles of crossbow bolts, 12 wagons of provisions, and enough weapons and armor to arm two more hundred-man squads!"

His voice boomed, filled with undisguised adoration, "We've struck it rich, sir! More importantly, we've completely crushed Count von Polgao's threat to the heart of Trostsky! From now on, this land will resound with your illustrious name! You are the true master of Trostsky!"

Peter nodded slightly, his face showing not much ecstasy, but only a quiet satisfaction.

The significance of the victory lay not only in the spoils of war, but also in the reversal of the strategic situation. Von Polgao lost his most valuable soldiers and the foundation of his rule in Trossky, rendering him incapable of organizing a large-scale counterattack in the short term. This land, having endured turmoil, could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Just then, a noise came from the ruins of the tower.

Jessica, Goodwin, Catherine, Michael, and Hurt struggled to push aside the piled-up beams and rubble, helping each other out. They were all covered in dust and dirt. Catherine's once pretty face was now smeared with grime, her brown braids were disheveled, and her armor was torn in several places, revealing her shirt underneath, which outlined her breathtakingly beautiful curves. But at this moment, she didn't care about any of that. She just followed the tall figure in the center of the courtyard with a look that was a mixture of relief and disbelief.

Jessica's gaze first met Peter's. The knight, over forty years old and with a face etched with the marks of time, had incredibly complex eyes. There was gratitude, shame, and an indescribable sense of defeat.

He walked somewhat unsteadily to Peter, his gaze sweeping over the mountains of spoils and the dejected prisoners before finally settling on Peter's face. He took a deep breath, the air thick with the smell of dust and blood, and then did something that surprised his companions behind him—he bowed deeply, placed his right hand on his chest, and gave Peter a perfect knightly salute, even though he himself had lost his family's fiefdom and was no longer a knight.

"Lord Peter," Jessica's voice was hoarse and trembling, "thank you for your rescue...otherwise, my brothers and I would be nothing but bones buried under the rubble."

He paused, as if gathering his courage, "But... I, Yanjeska, admit my failure and incompetence. I have betrayed your trust and failed to defend this castle. It... should not belong to me. I am not worthy."

His words were filled with bitter self-doubt. He led his brothers in holding out, yet nearly wiped them all out. Peter… he had calculated everything, waiting patiently for the opportune moment to strike decisively. Was the difference… really that vast?

Peter looked at him quietly, his eyes calm, devoid of the arrogance of a victor, but instead carrying a hint of admiration. He reached out and placed his hand on Jessica's shoulder, the touch steady and warm. "Jessica, a temporary victory or defeat doesn't define everything. I've witnessed your courage and loyalty firsthand. Failure is a lesson, not the end."

Peter's voice was clear and magnetic, carrying a convincing power: "I admire a warrior as experienced as you. Stay and serve me. I promise that, if you achieve enough merit, I will bestow upon you a knighthood and a matching fief. Your talent should not be buried in wandering and pointless sacrifice."

This was undoubtedly a highly tempting promise. For someone like Jessica, who had struggled half his life, the status of a knight was an almost unattainable dream. His eyes lit up instantly, and his heart began to pound. A knighthood… a territory… fame and fortune… how many warriors dreamed of such a destiny? He truly admired Peter's strategy and strength; following such a leader, his future seemed bright.

However, another image flashed quickly through his mind—Sir Jan Sokol, the nobleman who had taken him in, trusted him, and given him dignity in Moravia. Sir Sokol's solemn gaze as he patted him on the shoulder and entrusted him with a task; the warm nights they spent sharing dark bread and ale by the campfire, discussing chivalry and the future of the kingdom… These memories, like shackles and a lighthouse, firmly anchored his mind.

The struggle on his face gradually faded, replaced by a resolute expression. He raised his head, met Peter's gaze, and firmly shook his head: "Lord Peter, your generosity and high regard overwhelm me with gratitude. But... please forgive me, I cannot accept this yet. In Moravia, Sir Sokol took me in and trusted me. I swore an oath to him to be loyal to him and to help him rescue the imprisoned Wenceslaus IV and Duke Prokop. I cannot break my oath."

Upon hearing these words, the expressions of his old comrades behind him immediately became extremely subtle.

A flicker of disappointment and resentment crossed Michael's eyes. They had followed Sir Sokol for so many years, fought so many battles, and yet Sir Sokol himself was barely surviving, let alone being granted land. If Brother Jessica had stayed, perhaps they could have…

Michael, the usually taciturn and burly man, frowned deeply, his lips pressed into a thin line. He surveyed the fortified castle, which had just survived a bloody battle but was now firmly under Peter's control. Considering the uncertain future of his trip to Kutenberg, why should he refuse? This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

Catherine sighed and shook her head gently. She understood Jessica's stubbornness, but also felt sorry for the stable future she might miss.