Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

April 22nd, morning, sunny.

Peter led his combat team to ambush the "Ulcer" gang's camp at the valley entrance, a route the gang members had to take to leave the valley.

Apart from Jerry the mouse going on a spy mission, the entire combat team is in place.

Peter lay prone in the ferns, his greatsword held horizontally before him. The blades were coated with mud, leaving only a thin, cold line along the edge to prevent sunlight from reflecting off them. He could see figures moving in the misty valley below—the commotion of the bandit camp preparing to venture out. Twelve butchers in chainmail; he calculated that each would require at least three sword strikes to break through their armor. Tom and Robert had to deal with the archers first. John the Big Mouth couldn't be the first to charge—that madman wouldn't stop once he saw blood…

Thirty paces to the left, on the hillside, Tom was adjusting his bowstring. The burly, unassuming man's breathing was slow and even, his expression calm; this kind of battle no longer excited him.

Behind the rock pile on the right flank, white-haired Robert, with one eye closed, scanned the camp layout through his homemade rangefinder: six tents, three campfire embers, the person cooking porridge facing away from the valley entrance, and the best target was the one wiping his sword—his chainmail had a gap under his arm... He had already silently arranged the "sniper" order for those bandits.

The two archers formed a crossfire.

John the Big Mouth lay in ambush behind Peter, repeatedly rehearsing a single move in his mind: a diagonal slash through the chainmail, a horizontal strike to sever the cervical vertebrae...

Red-bearded Andrei was inspecting the straps of his shield. This burly man of Celtic blood tapped the shield's core lightly with the back of his axe, listening to the dull thud to determine if the planks were damp. His lips moved slightly as he recited his ancestral war prayer: "The shield is a moving wall, the axe is the flying grim reaper, and I—am the ferryman between the wall and death."

The skinny monkey, Monchi, had his hands below his knees, two short swords crossed behind his back. His swords were difficult to pierce armor, but he was adept at finding gaps in armor to slip through and deliver a fatal blow to his enemies. An ant crawled onto the tip of his boot under a tree, which he gently flicked away with the tip of his dagger—these hands killed without shedding blood, yet disdained to kill ants.

Around 10 a.m., there was some activity at the bandit camp.

Twelve chainmail bandits, led by their leader "Ulcer," who wore half-breastplate armor, emerged from the valley in formation, seemingly preparing for some major operation.

"Brother, I need to take a piss first."

Just outside the valley, the gang's second-in-command, "Broken Jaw," sneezed into the smog and walked to the crooked pine tree to unbuckle his belt.

"A lazy donkey pulls a millstone and produces a lot of excrement and urine; you don't have the life of a donkey, but you've got the disease of a donkey."

The third leader, nicknamed "Rotten Lungs," chuckled, his voice like a bellows pumping.

"Broken Jaw" has an old scar on his chin that goes all the way to his collarbone, which looks especially terrifying when he's angry. He curses at "Rotten Lungs" and says, "If it weren't for my brother watching over you, I would have poured this poop into your mouth to soothe your throat."

As a result of being too excited, he urinated all over his shoes.

I used to be able to pee three feet against the wind, but now I pee my shoes wet with the wind at my back. It's really awful.

Just as they were arguing, the sound of horses' hooves came from afar.

"alert!"

Ulcer carried his spiked hammer on his shoulder, and the third leader, "Rotten Lung," quickly organized his underlings into two rows. The second leader, "Broken Jaw," also hurriedly pulled up his pants and joined the ranks.

Peter, who was lying in ambush, signaled to everyone not to act rashly and to observe the situation before making any moves.

"Tap, tap, tap"

"Hiss~"

Two warhorses carrying two rangers approached. One of them opened his helmet visor and said, "Ulcer, the executor told me to tell you that we're about to launch a sweep of Big Mouth John and his gang. This is your last chance to defect. If you don't make up your mind soon, you'll be next after we wipe out Big Mouth!"

"You still haven't agreed to my conditions from last time?! I don't ally with stingy guys."

The ulcer was very tall, dressed in black plate armor, and wielded a menacing hammer that could leave a large dent when it struck the head.

"Ulcer, recognize your place. The Executor has already shown you the utmost leniency by allowing you to plunder Lower Semi. Because that's all you're worth. If you miss this opportunity, destruction will surely await you."

The cavalryman's face was full of mockery. He looked down on the bandits with ulcers from the bottom of his heart.

The ulcerated surface was as still as water; the second-in-command's mangled jawbone writhed; the third-in-command and many other bandits gripped their weapons tightly. A hush fell over the scene.

Just when everyone thought "Ulcer" was about to start a fight, he lowered his head and said, "Please reply to the executor that I am willing to cooperate. We will proceed as agreed last time. I will lead you to Big Mouth John's camp, and you will allow me to retain my own territory."

"Hahaha, good, that's a good dog, knowing who's in charge. Cooperate with our operations so you can survive and scavenge for scraps behind us."

"Hahaha..." The two cavalrymen laughed loudly on horseback.

"Whoosh!"

Tom's bowstring twanged, striking a cavalryman squarely in the face. The man stared in disbelief, his eyes wide, and fell from his horse.

"Whoosh!"

Robert's bowstring twanged, but instead of shooting anyone, he struck another cavalryman's horse in the rump.

"Heave-ho!" The warhorse, startled, reared up and bolted. The rider on horseback quickly ducked, turning back to curse as he ran, "You scoundrel! How dare you ambush and kill a ranger! We'll be back to catch you and hang you to dry!"

"Who, who fired the arrow?!"

Ulcer, recovering from the sudden change, turned and roared at his 11 henchmen behind him, "You've killed me! Did I beg for mercy just for myself? I was begging for your lives!"

"Big brother, it wasn't me."

"It wasn't me either."

"My bow isn't strung yet."

......

"Whoosh!"

While the bandits were still making excuses, arrows from the ambush site, like venomous snakes spitting their tongues, pierced through the thin mist and shot into the open mouth of one of the bandits, exiting through the back of his neck with a piece of his throat bone.

"Enemy attack—"

One of the bandits noticed the direction from which the arrow had come, but before he could finish his shout, Robert's white arrow had pierced his eye socket.

"There's an ambush! There's an ambush!"

The remaining 10 bandits then realized that there was a third party involved.

"Andrei!" the red-bearded man roared, charging forward like a battering ram, his oak shield protecting his upper body. He crashed into the enemy ranks—as his axe flashed, a sword-wielding wrist flew into the air, blood dripping from its tip.

The enemy's two ranks of formation were also broken up. Skinny Monkey quickly slipped in.

While the bandit was clasping his hands and weeping, the tip of the sword pierced into the area where the bandit was not protected by a mask, and stirred it.

Another one dies.

"kill!"

Peter also rose and leaped forward, taking three steps in two, his greatsword drawing a silver arc with his two hands. With a force of 30 points, he severed the chainmail protection, and a bandit's head flew off along with his hood.

One less person.

"My turn!" Big Mouth John laughed wildly as he pounced, scattering the enemy formation even further.

The broadsword slashed down without any fancy moves, striking a bandit squarely in the shoulder of his chainmail. The chain links snapped, and the blade got stuck in his collarbone. The bandit screamed and stabbed John in the abdomen with his dagger, but it struck the tanned leather armor instead. John grinned, kicked the corpse aside, and pulled out his sword—fragments of bone splattered on his face, which he licked.

Tom and Robert were conducting a death roll call from a high vantage point.

"Whoosh!"

Tom's arrows were aimed at the face and armpits, while Robert's arrows aimed to penetrate—one arrow pierced through the thighs of two men, pinning the bandits together like skewers of meat.

Only 5 bandits remain.

"Big Mouth John, how dare you ambush me!"

The gang leader, "Ulcer," roared out, wielding a spiked hammer, and faced that familiar figure.

"I heard everything clearly from the hillside. You were the one who wanted to cooperate with the executive officer and betray me. So what's wrong with me killing you!"

Lord Peter has given the order that there is no need to take these wicked bandits prisoner; they should all be killed without exception.

"No, no, I haven't betrayed you yet, and you were already lying in ambush here. You clearly plotted against me first!"

The ulcer was furious. It was already bad enough, how could someone be even worse than it!

Fuck you.

John the Big Mouth stopped wasting his breath and brought his broadsword down. Ulcer, who had a bellyful of words to say, was forced to swallow them back and focused on dealing with the attack.

"Andrei!"

Redbeard loved to shout his own name during fights, as if that would bring him ancestral blessings and increased power. He faced off against the third-in-command, "Rotten Lung," and in just a few rounds, he knocked the weapon from the gurgling man's hand. Using the momentum of the swing, he slammed the axe blade into "Rotten Lung's" chainmail at the waist, scattering the shattered iron rings on the ground like a bag of silver coins.

"Rotten Lung" collapsed to his knees in pain from his injury. Redbeard stepped on his shoulder, raised the axe high, and brought it down sharply at an angle, causing blood to gush from his neck.

The blood rushed back and flooded his lungs; he died with a few gurgling sounds.

The battle on Big Mouth John's side has also come to a conclusion.

John's broadsword sliced ​​off three of "Ulcer's" fingers. The heavy mace fell to the ground. John kicked him over, and the broadsword pierced through his ribs.

"Pfft!"

The malpractice-causing "index finger ulcer" suddenly died.

The remaining two bandits turned to flee, but Monchi caught up with one and plunged his sword into his back. The other bandit was shot through the knee by Tom's arrow, and Robert's arrow came out of his neck.

Peter didn't intervene much, but instead observed the team members' coordination, which was quite good.

Especially with the constant increase in experience points in my mind, I can gain half the experience points when my subordinates kill enemies, so it's not a bad deal.

"Wait, where did the second-in-command's 'jaw-breaking' go?"