Duncan, alone on horseback, locked onto his target from an overhead view, flanked by the 28 riders who protected his wings as he gradually closed on the enemy.
Two hundred meters away.
Duncan drew and nocked an arrow, releasing it with a howl, striking down one of the elite chieftain’s guards with precision.
Continuous fire.
He didn’t even hold the reins, stone-faced and steady, drawing another arrow swiftly and shooting again. Amid the wailing of horses, Hosa’s mount was critically wounded, pierced by armor-piercing arrowheads through its belly. The savage barbarian chieftain was thrown from the horse with a grunt, trying to remount by forcibly pulling down a chieftain’s personal guard nearby.
At this moment, Hosa genuinely felt fear!
The enemy wielded a powerful bow and was an archery god, seemingly with eagle eyes surveying the entire battlefield. Amidst the many guarding chieftains, he still got shot; this was beyond his previous understanding of warfare!
Can war be fought like this?
This delay allowed Duncan and his general’s guard to catch up to the enemy. Over ten chieftain guards turned their steeds to shield their retreat with their lives, while others bodily shielded Hosa, but the general’s guard confronted them head-on, carving a bloody path for Duncan.
They were the personal guard of this era, ready to give their lives for the general in battle.
"Is he out of arrows?"
The sound of hooves echoed.
Fleeing down the path, Hosa suddenly realized Duncan was raising his bow without an arrow and quickly saw this as an opportunity. He immediately ordered the sides to prepare for a counterattack, planning to encircle and kill Duncan, who had advanced alone.
At this moment, thanks to his remarkable riding skill, Duncan had already charged into the enemy formation, with his nearest general’s guard tens of meters away.
Hosa turned his steed, with over ten elite chieftain guards rushing forward.
So many of them.
No matter if Duncan was a descending god, he would still be stabbed to death by their spears!
——Wind Arrow!
The invisible wind roared, and Duncan’s mana bar was instantly depleted.
In Hosa’s incredulous eyes, Duncan’s war bow was drawn like a full moon, and something seemed to gather on the empty bowstring.
"No! It’s a trap!"
The fierce wind howled.
Amidst the chieftain’s guard encircling, Hosa’s body stiffened, with a blood hole suddenly appearing on his forehead, as the Wind Arrow pierced through his skull.
The surrounding chieftain guards were in disarray.
Duncan unsheathed the Oathkeeper longsword, slashing apart an enemy’s thrusting lance and with a roar, chopped off a grimly furious head.
"Protect the general!"
Twenty-one riders of the general’s guard fought to the death, several falling, yet they reached and protected Duncan by his sides.
The setting sun wept blood, the wind’s blade edged like a razor.
Duncan hoisted Hosa’s severed head with his lance, gazing at the distant battlefield still embroiled in desperate combat, and let out a terrifying roar!
"The enemy commander is dead! Surrender at once!"
Behind Duncan, the fierce wind roared, leaving sixteen blood-soaked riders standing, horses shrieking, each wounded, yet displaying the ferocity of tigers, akin to demonic killers from the underworld.
The entire battlefield fell into dead silence.
Then, a thunderous cheer and clamor arose, countless Saxon soldiers saw Hosa’s head lifted on a lance and swiftly lost their will to fight.
This scene was destined to be immortalized in the legends of Great Britain!
.........