Work Prophet
Chapter 344 - 102 Where Did These People Come From?

Chapter 344: Chapter 102 Where Did These People Come From?

Seeing that the path ahead was blocked, the tall man ordered six Black Armored Cavalry to dismount and clear the spikes from the ground.

He also sent ten men to deal with the approaching new army from behind.

Facing enemies several times their own number, the warriors of the sect, unafraid, took firm steps to meet the challenge.

On the other hand, seeing the shimmer of cold light off the armor and blades under the cover of night, fear of retreat sprouted in some of the new army’s hearts.

But the Black-armored soldiers gave them no chance for regret, and in the next moment, they swung their long swords and charged forward.

The one leading the charge seemed to be a nearby farmer, still holding a hoe, and it was evident he had been living rather well recently. Although still slender, his belly had begun to round out.

He was also wearing a very finely made woolen cloak, likely plundered from somewhere.

He clearly liked the cloak very much, as although winter had passed and the temperature was rising, he still insisted on wearing that woolen cloak.

But soon enough, that woolen cloak was sliced into two halves, along with the body beneath it; guts and entrails spilling out.

The new army had never seen such a terrifying sight.

All were completely horrified!

However, the battle-hardened Black-armored soldiers of the sect did not stare in shock like them; their faces showed no expression.

The one who struck acted as if he had just done something as mundane as possible, then turned towards the next target.

His companions did the same, silently swinging their weapons, each strike claiming a life.

The scene was like ten fierce tigers leaping into a flock of sheep; no matter how many sheep there were, they were no match for the tigers and didn’t even have the strength to resist.

Soon they were wailing and screaming, no longer thinking of gold, only wanting to flee back.

Meanwhile, the other six had almost cleared a path through the spikes on the ground.

Hearing that the way was nearly clear, Hirodod breathed a slight sigh of relief, but still felt a sense of impatience in his heart.

What troubled Hirodod most was that he did not know where the assailants had come from.

His plan to quietly leave Duolin City tonight was known only to the tall man besides himself.

Yet the assailants knew not only that he was leaving but also the exact time and route he would take, having set up an ambush on the road in advance.

This was something Hirodod could not understand at all.

Before this night, no matter how chaotic things were inside Duolin City, everything had been within his expectations; however, now, for the first time, he felt a danger that his plans were slipping out of control.

Further adding to this was the mysterious disappearance of Golden Eyes not long ago, making Hirodod feel as though he was being targeted by someone.

Could it be that Matina’s people had already infiltrated the city? But Matina always acted in broad daylight, and those people shouldn’t know he was in a carriage.

As Hirodod pondered, he suddenly heard the tall man outside the carriage scream in rage, "Despicable bastard!"

It was a Black-armored soldier chasing the defeated new army. Unexpectedly, a man who had been cowering and darting about suddenly circled to his back.

The man then thrust forward the spear in his hands, piercing directly through the soldier’s calf.

Following that, the fleeing man also turned back, lunged forward, and accurately stabbed the small knife into the throat of the fallen Black-armored soldier, ending his life.

His maneuvers were crisp and in perfect sync with his comrades, evidently the product of many rehearsals, certainly beyond the capacity of the mere farmers and beggars in the new army.

This was the first time tonight that the guard squad had suffered a casualty, and even the unflappable face of the tall man leading them showed a hint of anger.

But his anger quickly turned to horror.

As soon as the black-armored soldier fell, it was as if a certain trumpet had been sounded for the opponents, as many of those still fleeing suddenly stood their ground, turned around, and began to fight back, often they were not alone but had one or two helpers.

These helpers had initially blended in with the fleeing new army, approaching their enemies unnoticed.

Dirty ambushes were everywhere.

Some black-armored soldiers were caught off guard and fell victim, one moment hacking through crowds, the next having their throats slit.

In almost the span of two or three breaths, half of the ten men that tall man had sent to confront the attackers had fallen.

The remaining four, although they escaped the initial assassinations, seemed unlikely to last much longer. They were surrounded, each facing four or five opponents whose skills were not inferior.

Where had all these experts come from?

By this time, the tall man had realized that these were not members of the new army. Their weapons varied greatly and their fighting styles differed, but most were skilled and had considerable combat experience.

The tall man had not yet managed to send more men to aid the remaining four of his guard squad when the reinforcement from the other side already arrived.

The group of crossbowmen who had ambushed them earlier reappeared, now only eight left, all wounded, but not a single one of the black-armored soldiers they had tangled with had returned.

The outcome of the previous battle was evident.

Though the tall man had had an ominous premonition when the first black-armored soldier was ambushed, the shock he felt as everything unfolded was still indescribable.

This was probably the greatest setback the guard squad had encountered in nearly a century, the last being when they had gone to Green Field to kidnap Prophet Merlin of the Double Rest Sect.

The casualties this time were already double those of the last time, and clearly, these were not the final numbers.

A cold light flickered in the tall man’s eyes as he turned to an aide and said, "Protect the lord well."

Having spoken, he drew his sword from his waist, dismounted, and walked towards the gathering crowd of enemies.

There were now more than thirty of them assembled on the opposite side, outnumbering the guard squad.

However, the tall man still only brought a squad with him.

Aside from the need to protect the carriage with the rest of the men, he was also sufficiently confident in himself.

Even among the elite of the guard squad, he was still the top expert.

In routine practice fights, few could endure more than thirty moves against him.

Though he rarely engaged in combat himself since becoming the squad leader, this did not mean his martial arts had declined.

On the contrary, he was stronger now than ever before.

This night, thrust into adversity after a long absence, he felt not fear but a fiercer blaze in his eyes.

At that moment, he stood in the middle of the street, his iron-cast body like a Demon God!