Desperate Pursuit

The situation was critical, and Art’s forehead was already covered in a thin layer of sweat.

He closed his eyes, carefully searching the memories of his original self in his mind, from his childhood training to the dangerous battles with his father in the east, and then to fighting wolves and beasts in the valley… But none of these fragments told him how to face such a dangerous situation.

“I can’t count on you! I’ll have to rely on myself.”

“More foolish than a wrong decision is no decision at all.” Art made up his mind, muttering to himself.

“We’ll change the plan. Besides our weapons and water skins, everyone will take off all extra items and hide them under this boulder.

In a moment, we’ll launch a surprise attack on those bandits.

Once I give the order to retreat, do not linger in battle; retreat with me immediately.

If the enemy doesn’t pursue, we’ll seize the opportunity to continue ambushing until they are wiped out or flee.

If they do pursue, everyone must follow me closely during the retreat and hold them off to buy time for the team to pass.

Remember, under no circumstances can anyone fall behind.

Understood?”

“Understood!” the crowd replied softly in unison.

The few of them quietly crept to the vicinity of the forest path, already hearing the low murmurs from not far away.

Art crouched down, holding several light arrows in his mouth, and crawled forward on his elbows.

The others behind him also lay on the ground and crept forward.

Behind a bush on the dirt embankment beside the main road, two bandits were squatting, intently staring north along the road.

Beside the bush, three men armed with short knives and hand axes were trying their best to hide behind several pine trees.

The wild dogs waiting for a fat lamb to come to their mouths would never have imagined that their backs were exposed to the wolves.

As the distance closed to where he could clearly see the nape of the two bandits’ necks, Art slowly rose, took a light arrow from his mouth, and nocked it on his bowstring.

He turned back and signaled to Odo and the two others on his left to attack the three knife-and-axe wielders; the three nodded.

Art then gently patted Lawrence, who was beside him, holding a round shield, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his lips pale, signaling him to cover him.

Suddenly leaping up, he drew his bow and released the string, and a light arrow embedded itself in a bandit’s back.

In an instant, one of the bandits, who had not yet reacted, was shot down.

Odo and the others beside him also charged forward with light arrows.

A series of clashing weapons and the tearing sound of swords and axes rending flesh and bone entered Art’s ears.

Odo, Bas, and Kazak coordinated well, supporting each other and covering their flanks.

After knocking one person down, they forced the two axe-wielding bandits in front of them down the embankment and onto the main road.

Lawrence, beside Art, was holding his round shield, blocking the continuous slashes of a long saber from the opposite side; clearly, he was no match for the strong man with the saber and could only retreat step by step.

Art again took a light arrow from his mouth, drew his bow, and aimed at the constantly moving target in front of Lawrence…

Suddenly, he heard a “Whoosh~ Thwack!” sound, and Art’s chest jolted.

A blunt-headed light arrow pierced his leather armor; the remaining impact force after the arrow’s long flight still pushed Art into a stumble.

He looked down to see that the arrowhead, embedded in his leather armor, had only penetrated halfway, not deep into the flesh.

Art had no time to deal with it.

He re-nocked his bow and turned towards the archer charging across the road towards him, drawing the bowstring fully.

With a “Whoosh~” sound, the blunt-headed light arrow flew towards the opposite side.

Odo, who had just forced back two bandits, saw Art hit by an arrow and Lawrence forced to retreat, so he quickly came to their aid, rushing forward and delivering a heavy kick that sent the strong man in front of Lawrence sprawling to the ground.

Art, pulling out the light arrow from his chest, saw six enemies on the opposite side already charging and about to jump onto their embankment.

Bas and Kazak were about to be surrounded by the enemy, so he quickly roared, “Retreat! Retreat!” and then pulled Lawrence up from the ground, sprinting into the dense forest.

Odo and the others also ignored the enemies in front of them, breaking free and closely following Art as they fled into the dense forest.

On the main road, the bow-wielding leader had just led a few of his subordinates onto the embankment; one of his men had already been shot down, another knocked unconscious by a heavy hammer, and another man had taken a heavy kick to the back and hadn’t gotten up for a long time.

The few men who launched the sneak attack had already disappeared into the dense forest, their figures gradually fading.

“Damn it!”

“Noy, stay here; everyone else, chase them!” the bow-wielding leader roared at the man who had just been kicked down, then turned and shot another arrow at the retreating figures in front…

“Odo, are they chasing us?” Art asked Odo, who was close behind him, pressing one hand to the bleeding wound on his chest.

Odo, who had charged the hardest just now, had a cut on his forearm, with blood flowing down it.

“They’re chasing us, there are eight of them,” Odo replied, panting heavily.

Art pulled Lawrence, who had the most stamina, and said, “Lawrence, find a place to hide immediately.

Later, we’ll lead the pursuers south.

Once you’re sure it’s safe, quickly head north out of the forest along the trade route back to the main group.

Tell Ron to immediately organize the refugees to pass through the forest; we’ll rendezvous at the large rock in the wilderness.

Tell him to be aware that there might still be bandits in the forest.”

After speaking, Art turned to glance behind him.

The bandits seemed to be thinking of stopping their pursuit.

He picked up his riding bow, drew a light arrow, took a deep breath, aimed at the crowd opposite, then raised the arrow a foot higher, drawing the bowstring to its fullest…

“Whoosh~” A light arrow flew from the bow, soared over the treetops, into the air, pierced a snowflake, stopped ascending, and then plunged towards the figures in the dense forest.

Thump~~

The bow-wielding leader turned his head to look at the arrow that had descended from the sky and was embedded in a tree trunk beside him, its fletching trembling.

He had originally intended to stop the pursuit and return, but this provocative arrow made him, an archer who prided himself on his marksmanship, feel humiliated.

He had to catch those bastards and break the archer’s fingers one by one.

And so, the two groups continued, one chasing and one fleeing, always maintaining a distance of just beyond an arrow’s reach, yet never pulling too far apart.

————————————————

At the other end of the main road, Ron, mounted on a reddish-brown horse, had already ordered the group to stop and rest in place.

He rode his horse to a small hill; as far as his eyes could see, the outline of the forest stretching east to west was visible.

The main group was almost at the edge of the forest, but there was still no sign of anyone from the front, and Ron’s heart grew increasingly uneasy—something must have gone wrong.

According to the original plan, Art would lead Odo and the others to bypass the main road and quietly enter the forest.

If there truly was an ambush, they would launch a surprise attack from behind to eliminate or repel them.

If there was no ambush, they would immediately return to assist.

Regardless of whether there was an ambush or not, if things had gone smoothly, someone should have returned to report by now.

Ron rode back to the refugee group, called over a few men with spears, and said, “Patrol Officer and his men have probably gone to pursue the bandits.

Until he returns, we will rest here.

You few must look after everyone and constantly pay attention to the surroundings.”

The men all nodded in agreement.

Ron then walked among the refugees who were sitting on the ground around the wagons, smiling and saying loudly, “Everyone, listen to me.

Patrol Officer is currently pursuing a group of petty thieves.

He has ordered us to wait for them here.

So, everyone, rest well here now.

Later, when we reach the forest ahead, we’ll make a fire and cook.

Tonight, everyone will have a warm meal of meat porridge and wheat gruel.”

The refugees, who had been anxious and worried about being attacked by bandits, felt their tense nerves relax considerably after hearing the words of Ron, Patrol Officer’s personal attendant.

Some relaxed conversations began to spread through the crowd again.

Ron turned around, looking at the Birch Forest in the distance, his relaxed expression and smile vanishing.

He muttered, “My lord, please don’t let anything happen to you.”

No sooner had he finished muttering than a spear-wielding man ran over to tell Ron that a figure had appeared south of the main road.

————————————————

“My Lord, we can’t keep leading them on like this.

If we keep this up, we’ll die of exhaustion.” Kazak caught up to Art, panting heavily.

Art’s face was drenched with sweat, his helmet hung behind his neck, and plumes of white steam rose from his head.

He pulled out the last diamond-shaped armor-piercing arrow from his quiver, suddenly stopped, turned, and shot another arrow skyward, then took off running, saying to Kazak as he ran, “I already ordered an acceleration to shake them off.

Didn’t you hear me?”

“Ah!” Kazak turned to look at the pursuers still biting at their heels, then glanced at Bas and Odo, who had long since discarded their heavy hammers and battle axes.

He quickly tightened the long saber at his waist, and his pace involuntarily quickened.

An arrow’s distance away, the bow-wielding leader, Jiali, who had been chasing Art and the others for most of the afternoon, had his clothes torn and his face scratched, looking utterly exhausted.

He wanted to give up this meaningless chase, but a suffocating rage was building inside him.

The bow-wielding bandit leader’s name was Jiali, and he called himself the Arrow of Satan.

He once swore that if he couldn’t be the Shield of God, he would be the Hand of the Devil.

For the past six months, he had been doing well.

With his exceptional archery and strategy, he and his subordinate deserters and ruffians had won repeatedly, not only plundering a large amount of money but also defeating a small Burgundy army that had come to clear them out.

Just as he was planning one last big score before occupying a small village to enjoy a comfortable winter, he was unexpectedly ambushed by a group of unknown individuals.

Not only did they kill two of his capable subordinates, but the other side kept provoking him.

He had to kill those guys in front.

Whoosh~~~ Thud!

“Ah~ Ah~ I’m hit, save me~”

Finally, one unlucky fellow was hit by an arrow.

He writhed on the ground in pain, wailing incoherently.

The bow-wielding leader stopped his pursuit and went back to look: an armor-piercing arrow had pierced the unlucky fellow’s shin bone—there was no saving him.

Throughout the chase, the bow-wielding leader had also continuously shot arrows at the retreating figures in front, but they were fleeing.

An arrow shot would only see the figures run further away, the arrow at most hitting their heels.

Conversely, he was pursuing, and arrows were always flying towards his head.

Although the distance was too great and the arrows had lost their force, this unfair exchange of fire kept the pursuers constantly on edge, fearing that some errant arrow might strike them.

“Leader, please save me, save me, I can still walk, don’t leave me behind~” The man on the ground tried to get up, but his leg had already lost sensation.

The bow-wielding leader glanced at the man on the ground, then turned to look at the enemies who had once again widened the distance, and then turned to leave.

“Don’t mind him, keep chasing them!” The leader stopped a few of his subordinates who were about to stop.

Anger made him lose his reason.

The two sides continued their chase in this forest.

“My~ Lord, just~ now~ you~ hit one, they~ they~ only have seven~ people left, let’s~ fight them~ to the death.” Kazak was exhausted; he simply couldn’t run anymore.

“No~ no, once~ we get stuck, we won’t~ have a chance to run.” Art had considered turning back and fighting the pursuers head-on, but judging by their quick and precise reactions when ambushed, the opponents were clearly not ordinary bandits.

He was unwilling to lead Odo and the others to their deaths.

His chest was already soaked with blood.

Art slowed his pace and stopped, bending at the waist and resting his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

His chest felt like it was about to explode, and a fishy taste of blood came from his throat.

Kazak and Bas also knelt to the ground, scooping up the accumulated snow and stuffing it into their mouths.

Odo, clutching the wound on his right arm with his left hand, staggered and struggled to catch up, leaning against a cypress tree.

Art looked around; after separating from Lawrence, they had first run south for a while, then continued west along the southern edge of the forest until now.

He couldn’t understand why the group behind them was still clinging on; he had never seen such determined bandits.

The determined bandits pursuing them, seeing the few people in front stop, also went weak in the knees and collapsed into the snow, several of them so exhausted they vomited onto the ground~

The two groups, both having run until they coughed up blood, remained an arrow’s distance apart, neither wanting to move another step forward…