Chapter 472 [472] Stefan Caraval.

472 [472] Stefan Caraval.

Men, wearing ragged clothing and chipped blades, ran as the sound of hooves filled their charts with dread. They ran through the dense, lush forest, some choosing to hide behind the thick trees to deter the charge of the fearsome, muscular horses and the knights on top of them.

However, the poor few who had this thought were sliced apart, along with the trees. The tough bark and thickness of the tree providing no refuge, rather it had just accelerated their fates.

"Kill the heretics!"

A knight shouted, and horses sped up, as if they were enlightened, filled with an unknown power from his voice.

"f.u.c.k!"

A bandit managed to say, as in the next moment a lance went through his chest, spreading the remains of his insides throughout the lush green gra.s.s, coloring it red.

The rest were the same. The knight's warhorses, looking like every part of them was muscle, tore through the trees, they simply charged through, and the trees were felled. Their blades were so sharp that even steel was no match, what could the bodies of these heretics, or 'bandits' even do?

Nothing could obstruct their path.

Very soon, the bandits who were running for their lives were either trampled, pierced, or sliced through. Leaving nothing but a gory mess, their original appearances unrecognizable.

"All are dead, sir."

A knight said, as he took out his lance from the chest of a bandit, flicking his lance to get the disgusting blood and flesh off. As much as he could.

"March forward. We must save the cardinal."

They rushed through the forest, not caring about the destruction to nature they caused, and very soon, they stumbled onto the bandits' hideout. A poorly made wooden wall around a cave. The previous ma.s.sacre was just the scouts, now...

Would the slaughter truly begin.

***********

"Save us..."

A young woman, who would most likely meet a bad fate to the bandits prayed as she clasped her hands together, Her clothing had already been ripped apart, and some bruises littered her skin. She was not the only one. All the people who had been captured had also started to pray, waiting for a hero, a knight in s.h.i.+ning armor to save them. That was normal in this situation, no?

Meanwhile, in a far corner of the prison.

"How did they catch you, brother?"

Said a young man, in his mid-twenties. He had navy blue hair that went down to his shoulders. It was so silky and s.h.i.+ny, unlike the hair of the rest of the people here. Furthermore, he had deep scarlet eyes, quite the contrast to his eyes. His face was chiseled, and it was certain that he was well-kept, managing his own personal hygiene and self-care quite well.

Indeed, he had to be a n.o.bleman! His clothing further cemented this belief. Unlike the ragged clothes of the rest of the people, who were most likely commoners, his clothing consisted of a simple black robe, which seemed to be made of a rather expensive and high quality material, however, the stiffness of the cloth in some areas made it highly likely he was wearing a sort of armor underneath, which should be chain mail. There was also a cross tattoo on his neck, along with a cross necklace.

He was certainly a devout believer, furthermore, only n.o.blemen could afford his attire, and body modifications.

"Brother?"

His sweet and mellow voice addressed the brute of a man next to him, who was clearly much taller, about 6 foot and eight inches, in these times he was a literal giant! He had white hair that fell down to his shoulders, dirtied by the rough treatment of the bandits. He was s.h.i.+rtless, which revealed his dense and large muscles. The n.o.bleman with blue hair, thought.

'How did this ragtag group catch this behemoth?'

Well, they also caught him...so maybe it wasn't such a ragtag group?

Clang! Clang!

"The knights of the holy order have come!"

"Save us!"

The people heard the clash of metal against metal, and the screams of their oppressors. They rejoiced. The man, addressed by the n.o.bleman, answered.

"Bad luck."

His voice, defied his brute-like physique. Stefan, the n.o.bleman, was surprised. He didn't expect the man to have such a nice voice. If he was a singer, he would certainly be able to charm everyone, regardless of who they were, with his sweet voice.

"I see, so the same as me, haha."

Stefan said, with a hearty laugh. He didn't dare comment on the man's voice, thinking maybe he would be offended.

He simply waited for a few seconds, and then inquired.

"You don't seem to be from here, where do you come from, brother?"

He made sure his tone didn't seem to bother the man, who seemed like he could rip him apart. Stefan knew, with his own strength, that was impossible. But it never hurt to be kind, that was what he was taught. He would never go against the words of G.o.d.

"Gladiator."

Stefan understood, that was where he got such a physique from.

"Do you believe in G.o.d, brother?"

The question was sudden, but the man did not respond. Even he hadn't expected such a question to come from Stefan, the man next to him.

He stayed silent, and Stefan laughed and apologized.

"Haha, sorry to bother you with such a question."

He apologized and stared at the bandits guarding the cell they stored everyone in. Stefan Caravel, looked at the gate further beyond, which was the entrance of the cave, as if he was waiting for something.

And what he was waiting for, was the marvelous entrance of the knights who had slaughtered the bandits outside, and quickly did the same to the poor guards.

They broke the prison walls as if they were nothing but brittle wood, and stepped inside. Ignoring the people showering them with praises, they went towards Stefan, and knelt down.

"We have arrived, Cardinal."

Stefan stood up, and thanked the men for saving him, along with the people. He was about to leave when he turned around and met eyes with the muscular man. His scarlet eyes tried to pierce through the jade-green emeralds, but failed to do so. Intrigued, he asked the man.

"Would you like to join us, brother?"