Chapter 98: Break the Gate

On the long street, Hastings' thunderous roar reverberated through the sky, his gaze as cold and eerie as that of a specter-like killing god sweeping slowly across the scene. At that moment, the crowded Byzantine soldiers on the long street found themselves unable to resist subconsciously lowering their heads, not daring to meet Hastings' eyes even once!

At the corner where the street curved, Xia Ya gripped the sword hilt tightly in his hand, lowered his body, and hid behind a dirt wall, eyes fixed intently on Hastings.

Seeing him block the pursuers' path, seeing the Byzantine soldiers tremble and gasp for air beneath his overwhelming pressure, seeing rivers of blood flow across the ground with limbs scattered everywhere, yet not a single Byzantine soldier daring to advance!

Hastings gave a cold snort, his warhorse retreating slowly beneath him before stepping backward one by one from the long street, long spear pointed at the opposing Byzantine soldiers, a single drop of blood falling from the spear tip onto the ground, turning into a dense, vivid red...

The atmosphere seemed completely frozen, save for the rhythmic panting of Hastings' warhorse and the steady sound of hooves. Seeing Hastings about to withdraw from the long street, Xia Ya watched anxiously from behind the dirt wall, clutching the pitchfork and staring fixedly at the back of Hastings' head.

These damned soldiers! Clearly numerous, seemingly cowed by Hastings' momentum and gripping their swords and shields, yet none dared to step forward to die. As if they had been petrified collectively. Were they really going to let Hastings leave so triumphantly?!

At the street corner turn, Hastings' lips curved into a mocking, contemptuous smile. He coldly spat out the words, "Byzantine people, cowards as mice!"

Finished, he roared loudly, turned his horse's head, and rode away!

Xia Ya no longer had the patience to wait. Spotting the exact moment Hastings turned his horse's head, he leaped onto the dirt wall, seized two stones from the stacked rubble nearby, and hurled them viciously toward Hastings.

Two thuds. Before the stones could reach him, Hastings' long spear tapped twice, shattering them into flying shards. Amid the scattering debris, Hastings' eyes locked onto Xia Ya standing atop the wall.

"Have the guts!" Hastings laughed fiercely, kicking hard against the stirrups, his spear tip stabbing straight for Xia Ya. That black flowing flame reached the young man in an instant. Xia Ya gathered all his focus, unable to track the movement of Hastings' strike. When the spear tip closed in, Xia Ya could only roar lowly and flip backward...

Shiss! Just as Xia Ya fell back, the spear tip scraped viciously across his chest. The black flowing flame on the spear tore through Xia Ya's officer's light armor of the 13th Legion with ease. Then came the sound of metal grating harshly against flesh, the spear tip sliding along the dragon scale pressed tight to his body, unleashing a cascade of sparks. Beneath the black flowing flame, even the armor seemed on the verge of melting, yet that dragon scale remained as unyielding as ever within the inferno, the spear tip carving a deep, unmistakable scratch across its surface.

Hastings had not slain his opponent in one stroke, but he felt a flicker of surprise in his heart. This shot had merely grazed Xia Ya's chest. Watching Xia Ya tumble backward into the dirt wall, Hastings uttered a soft command, "Good form!"

He stretched both arms lightly, and the long spear thrust through the collapsing dirt wall with a whoosh! Xia Ya had barely hit the ground and begun to roll when the spear tip was already there again. This time he could not dodge. The spear tip struck the dragon scale on his chest with a thunderous clang. The point of impact caved inward immediately, and Xia Ya's torso felt as though crushed by a sledgehammer. His vision blurred, a mouthful of blood surging to his throat, which he forced back down.

A strange, faint warmth spread through his body and settled on the dragon scale before his chest. Under the black flowing flame it had hissed and steamed, seeming on the verge of shattering, but suddenly a veil of azure qi enveloped it...

Hastings felt the spear tip rebound gently from a soft force. He hummed, drew the spear back, and saw the ruined dirt wall behind him, Xia Ya lying supine on the ground.

This was the first time Hastings had clearly seen Xia Ya's face, the black-haired, black-eyed youth sprawled before him wearing the Byzantine officer's armor, eyes staring blankly upward.

Hastings paused, stunned—this was his first glimpse of Xia Ya's true appearance.

On the battlefield they had clashed briefly at close range, but Xia Ya had worn a faceplate, and Hastings had not seen his face.

Even... until now, Hastings had believed the sneaker on the battlefield was "Bonfret."

This time, after leading his army in retreat and slipping back behind Byzantine lines, he had sworn to eliminate that despicable coward!

The honor of a fair duel I will not grant you, but for one so vile and shameless who dares to insult my warrior's glory, I will not spare his life! No matter what, Hastings was going to kill "Bonfret"! Moreover, rumor had it that this bastard had shamelessly claimed to have wounded him in battle and openly claimed some military merit. In that case, he could not be allowed to live!

Who did Hastings think he was? How could I let these lowly insects sully my reputation!

He had been bold indeed, relying on his godlike martial prowess to infiltrate the Byzantine forces alone, reach Wildfire Town, break into the garrison house single-handedly, slaughter "Bonfret" on the spot under the protection of hundreds of guards, and exterminate every Byzantine officer present!

Hastings had thought he had vented his fury, but looking down at Xia Ya, he could not have imagined that the man who truly stained his warrior's passionate faith on the battlefield was the one beneath him.

The spear tip had been repelled. Hastings felt a trace of surprise, but it quickly dissolved into relief. This time he had come in secret to avoid notice; he had not brought his trident spear. After all, he had slipped into enemy territory. If his identity were exposed, with his hatred for the Byzantine Empire so deep it could never be repaid, they would spare no cost to hunt him down as a mortal threat.

Hastings was arrogant, but he was no fool. No matter how formidable his skill, he was not a brainless brute.

At this moment Hastings withdrew his spear, considering its quality ordinary and noting the superior armor the other wore. He looked again at the wide-eyed youth staring at him. That black-haired boy was interesting. Those Byzantine soldiers had fled at the mere mention of his name, yet this youth dared to meet his gaze without fear.

Hastings gave a cold sneer and recognized the style of armor at a glance, having fought the Byzantine army for many years: "So it's the Rhodaria Cavalry Regiment. No wonder you're so stubborn."

Although he spoke the words, Hastings showed no mercy. The long spear whipped forward, stabbing straight for Xia Ya's throat. Xia Ya, still aching from the earlier wound, had no strength left to dodge or struggle. He was about to close his eyes and await death when he heard Hastings suddenly shout in alarm.

The spear tip had already reached his throat, the black flowing flame a hair's breadth from touching skin. Xia Ya felt the bone-chilling cold radiating from it...

Hastings' spear had stopped!

Hastings gripped the spear with both hands, his soft eyes wide and locked on Xia Ya, on the spot just beneath his throat.

There, on Xia Ya's neck, hung a pendant, the old man's keepsake left to him!

Hastings' expression shifted rapidly, doubt, surprise, shock, and something unreadable flickering across his gaze. For the first time, the hands of the Odin warrior seemed to tremble faintly.

He drew a deep breath, reversed his grip, and brought the butt of the spear down hard across Xia Ya's chest. Xia Ya convulsed and passed out. Hastings' spear tip hooked into his belt, he flicked his wrist, and slung Xia Ya over his shoulder, then grabbed him onto the horse in front of himself. With a shout he urged the beast forward, galloping toward the end of the long street.

Alone, man and horse, he rode wildly through the streets of Wildfire Town. Whenever Byzantine patrol soldiers tried to block his path, his long spear became a sweeping black flame, mingled with sprays of blood, carving a bloody corridor through them. Wherever he went, the Byzantine forces suffered heavy losses and could not mount an effective defense. Hastings simply charged through.

In the blink of an eye he reached the city gate of Wildfire Town. An urgent warning bell rang inside the walls. The guards had closed the massive doors. Seeing Hastings charge straight at them, a line of soldiers formed beneath the gate, shields and spears raised. The leading officer bellowed, "Intruders will be killed on sight!"

Hastings gave no reply. He let out a thunderous war-cry, and the long spear in his hand became a streak of black lightning, slamming into the line of soldiers with a roar of dark flame. Several men were pierced through instantly, and the remaining force shattered the city gate, sending stones and timber exploding outward.

Hastings spurred his divine steed onward. The black warhorse neighed triumphantly, hooves thundering as it leaped over the dozens of swords and spears below and thundered through the broken gate.

Outside lay endless wilderness. Behind him the Byzantine soldiers shouted in panic and confusion. Hastings suddenly reined in, looked back at the soldiers still visible through the shattered gate, and with a cold smile drew the long sword from his saddle. He hurled it with perfect aim. The blade sank deep into the stone coping of the gate, quivering to the hilt.

"Tell your commander: wounding me, Hastings, on the battlefield is nothing but a joke!"