Chapter 131: You're the Boss, You Go First

  "My home!" Axsis gazed at the mansion, now nearly in ruins, looking as if he might cry. His twisted features contorted like a goblin under torture. Though this was merely one of The Shamushi Thieves' Guild's many nests, he had painstakingly cultivated it for so long. Seeing it destroyed like this naturally pained him deeply. Moreover, this was near the Erathia royal capital. Creating such a commotion in broad daylight meant soldiers would arrive any moment.

  Sure enough, faint, thunderous hoofbeats sounded from the distant streets.

  The man with the punching daggers crouched, pressing his ear to the ground. After listening intently, he stood and reported to Sylka: "One hundred and twenty heavy knights, thirty light cavalry."

  "Kingdom Knight Order. Probably that bastard Orrin." Sylka grunted, spitting on the ground.

  Axsis peeked outside. On the street beyond the mansion courtyard, a crowd had already gathered to watch. He turned back to Sylka: "We can't stay here. Everyone, escape through the tunnels!"

  The hoofbeats grew louder, their thunderous rumble making the ground vibrate slightly.

  "Wait. Dig that bitch's corpse out. Strip off that armor." Sylka's eyes gleamed as he strode toward the rubble pile. But the man was quicker. He tore aside the bricks and stones, hauling the female knight out directly. Though covered in blood and pale as paper, clearly unconscious, everyone could see she was still alive.

  "The bitch isn't dead?" Sylka chuckled, his eyes shining brighter, like two small lanterns—though no lantern could ever emit such a ferocious, lecherous light. "Seems that armor is really something. And the bitch's body seems tough enough too. Heh heh..."

  The man slung the female knight over his shoulder and headed toward the tunnel entrance. "That's because I deliberately didn't use lethal force. This woman is still useful to me," he said coldly.

  Sylka froze. Then the light in his eyes intensified tenfold. The man's tone held an air of absolute entitlement, as if the woman were already his private property—as if he were the boss here.

  Sylka hadn't heard that tone in years—longer even than the Temple Knight's condescending one. He stared at the man's back. The two-handed greatsword in his hand reignited with faint fighting spirit energy. He could almost feel the sensation of smashing both the man and woman into pulp with a single strike.

  The man suddenly whirled around as if stabbed. The look he gave Sylka was as eerie and bloodthirsty as the glow from his strange blade. He asked slowly, "What do you think you're doing?"

  The hoofbeats of the heavy knights reached the mansion gates. The onlookers scattered in panic. Axsis poked his head out from the tunnel entrance, shouting urgently, "Chief! Hurry up and get out!"

  "Hahahahaha..." Sylka's gaze, sharp as a knife, swept over the man several times before settling on the blade. He suddenly burst into loud laughter, seeming genuinely delighted, as if he'd found some priceless treasure. "I don't want to do anything. Haha, hahahahaha..."

  The man frowned, momentarily stunned. Axsis froze too. Just then, the golden armor of the Kingdom Knight Order finally appeared at the mansion gates. They charged forward without hesitation. Axsis immediately ducked back into the tunnel. The man paid Sylka no further mind, carrying the female knight into the tunnel entrance.

  Sylka stared at the man's disappearing back, licking his lips. His crimson tongue nearly reached his nose.

  From within the Knight Order's ranks, several of the fastest light cavalry actually spurred their horses straight into the mansion grounds. They galloped nimbly over the broken walls and rubble, their horsemanship uncanny. Under their riders' control, the horses moved with an agility that seemed almost un-horselike—more like deer in a forest.

  Sylka spat a thick, white glob of saliva toward the charging knights—like the froth at a dying man's lips. He turned and entered the tunnel. The two-handed greatsword in his hand slammed heavily against the stone walls on either side.

  The tunnel entrance collapsed with a roar, just in time to block the fastest heavy knights outside. Muffled impacts and continued rumbling of collapses echoed from within the tunnel as Sylka proceeded, systematically destroying the entire passage.

  The knights helplessly reined in their horses and retreated. The heavy knights had all halted in the mansion courtyard. A dozen dismounted, quickly fanning out to search the ruined mansion thoroughly.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  A rider detached himself from the orderly formation, dismounted, and entered the dilapidated mansion. His attire was completely different from the other knights. He wore light leather armor, a long sword slanted at his waist. Even his expression lacked the others' fierce vitality; instead, he looked sickly. He coughed occasionally. He examined the battle scars that had nearly demolished the entire mansion, his brow furrowed.

  After the search concluded, a knight approached this man to report: "General Orrin, no sign of The Shamushi Thieves' Guild members. They must have all escaped through the tunnels. The entrance has collapsed; pursuit is temporarily impossible. However, we found no trace of Lady Talise. As before, she was the one who summoned us here to capture the prisoners."

  "Reporting, General!" A light cavalry squad leader, one of the first to charge in, stepped forward. "Just now, I think I saw... I saw..."

  General Orrin stared at the vast, eerie bloodstains on the ground and the two or three withered, mummy-like corpses. His brow furrowed deeper. Impatiently, he asked, "Saw what?"

  "Saw... I think I saw Lady Talise being carried away over a bandit's shoulder... covered in blood... captured... But... I might have been mistaken..." The squad leader's tone lacked conviction. He had witnessed how Temple Knights had effortlessly slaughtered other bandit gangs—the divine swordplay, magic, and the Radiant Battleplate's miraculous effects, like a descending deity. That heroic image was seared into his memory. Moreover, by any logical reasoning, this seemed impossible. How could one of Celeste's elite knights be beaten half to death and captured by a ragtag bunch of bandits?

  Orrin seemed not to notice the ambiguous report. His attention was fixed on a large pile of dirt. He bent down, poking it with his finger. Then he straightened and asked the squad leader, "What did you say? I didn't catch that."

  "Your subordinate thinks he saw... Her Ladyship being... Your subordinate must have been mistaken..." The squad leader's reply grew even less certain.

  "Nonsense," General Orrin snorted, answering with absolute certainty. "How could a mere Temple Knight be defeated by common bandits? Do you think an elite trained in The Radiant Citadel would be such a coward?"

  "Yes, yes, yes," the squad leader nodded hastily. "Your subordinate must have been mistaken. Definitely mistaken."

  "Lady Talise isn't here. She must have gone after the remnants of The Shamushi Thieves' Guild," General Orrin turned and walked out, leaping onto his horse. He coughed twice. "Let's go. We'll return and await her good news."

  The squad leader quickly asked, "Aren't we assisting in the pursuit? If we deploy troops now to seal and search within a five-mile radius, those bandits surely won't escape."

  General Orrin glared at him. "Don't meddle. You should have seen Lady Talise's temper. She uncovered the clue but refused our help, insisting on going alone. That shows she has sufficient confidence. To underestimate a Temple Knight's confidence and interfere would be disrespectful to her honor."

  "Yes, yes," the squad leader nodded repeatedly, deeply convinced.

  "So let's not interfere. Let's go." General Orrin coughed, sighed. A helpless expression crossed his sallow face. "The renowned Temple Knight... surely she won't disappoint us."

  Later, at dusk. Over three li away from the mansion, Sylka, Axsis, and the remaining experts emerged from a sewer outlet.

  This was the farthest and safest exit. To avoid encirclement by the Kingdom Knight Order, Sylka had sent the other bandits to escape through several relatively riskier exits. But now, there seemed to be no sign of a large-scale military pursuit.

  The druid had reverted to human form. Everyone had changed into more ordinary-looking clothes. Even Sylka wore clothing that did its best to mask his ferocious aura. It had to be admitted that The Shamushi Thieves' Guild hadn't achieved its scale by luck. The vast basement contained not only multiple escape tunnels but also supplies prepared for such escapes. The unconscious female knight was stuffed into a large sack, carried over the man's shoulder.

  Emerging from the sewer, the group didn't dare delay. Under Sylka's leadership, they immediately set off toward another hideout dozens of li away. According to Sylka's instructions, the other escaping bandits were also gathering there.

  Originally, Sylka had planned to reach it overnight, but by midnight, Axsis and the old man could go no further. Especially Axsis. Even though Sylka had practically dragged him along, he was foaming at the mouth and couldn't continue. So the group had to stop, deciding to rest for the night in the desolate woods. The battle had indeed exhausted everyone. At the mention of rest, many showed expressions of weary relief.

  Naturally, some were still energetic. Sylka was one. The man carrying the female knight showed no sign of fatigue even after walking such a distance. The others looked at him as if he were a monster.

  No one would forget that in the battle, he had exerted the most effort and achieved the greatest merit. It could almost be said he had single-handedly defeated the Temple Knight. Now, everyone looked at him with a mixture of reverence and fear.

  A campfire was lit. After eating some rations, everyone's mood finally eased enough for idle chat and introductions.

  After the heart-stopping battle, much of the mutual wariness and the arrogant pride of self-proclaimed experts had vanished. The veiled woman was named Jessica. The man with the punching daggers was Hilton. The young man who used white magic was Yabin. The druid was Anderson. The old man, scorched hairless like a rat by the knight's magic, collapsed the moment they stopped, instantly falling into a death-like sleep, missing the chance to give his name. Only the man carrying the female knight remained silent. He already held an air of profound inscrutability in their minds, so no one dared ask his name.

  "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Hilton—the man with the punching daggers—was sewing the deep, bone-visible gash on his face with needle and thread. He cursed with every stitch. He was also relatively energetic. Along the way, he had almost constantly repeated this word. Though the young man named Yabin had used Healing Arts on him, the wound couldn't heal instantly. The sweat and dust of the journey seeping into the gash made him grimace in pain. Now, at rest, he finally had time to take out his needle and thread and stitch it himself himself, enduring the pain.

  Finally finished cursing at the gash, the young man Yabin cast Healing Arts on him again. Hilton exhaled deeply, glaring viciously at the sack holding the female knight: "That bitch nearly cracked my skull open." He then turned to the man sitting beside the knight: "Brother, dump this bitch out. I'm going to teach her a lesson now."

  The man didn't move. He looked at Hilton and asked flatly, "Teach her what lesson?"

  "Rape her, of course. Fuck, I'm feeling pretty energetic right now," Hilton answered, lightly touching the scar on his face and licking his lips, as if the pain were fueling his lust.

  The man's eyes were indifferent as he watched Hilton. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Here?"

  "Doesn't matter where, since we're going to rape her anyway," Hilton replied with a tone of absolute certainty. For men who licked blood from blades, this was indeed the natural course of things in such a situation. He turned to the veiled woman in black, Jessica. "If you don't want to watch, you should step aside."

  "No, I want to watch carefully." Jessica's hand rested on her ribs, recently set and treated with Healing Arts. Her expression was strange; she seemed to lick her lips. "Maybe I'll even join in."

  "Oh, good, good," Hilton said, somewhat surprised. But as he turned back, the man's icy glare dampened his fire considerably.

  Hilton looked at Sylka. But the one who should have been most enthusiastic now wore an expression of utter indifference, his face wooden as he watched the others. Hilton felt a flash of annoyance, but then realization dawned.

  "Of course I can't be first. Fuck," he said to the man with a sudden, enlightened grin, which tugged painfully at his facial wound. "You captured her. And you're the best fighter here. You're the boss, so you go first." He made a magnanimous gesture. "Please. If you don't want us to watch, we can step away." Seemingly remembering the man's ferocious skill and presence, he added, "Of course, don't kill her either."