Understanding the situation, Resarite nodded and drew his sword to command the troops to attack.

The terrain of the forest, uneven and not suited for cavalry, could sometimes offer light infantry a special advantage.

However, this largely depended on the type of light infantry involved.

Well-equipped light infantry with adequate weapons and armor could indeed be effective, but those without any military gear were still likely to face a dire fate, even in the forest.

At this moment, aside from a few light cavalry under Hof’s lead circling the outskirts and Hof’s own contingent of heavy infantry and archers, all of Mibo’s forces were encircled by Howard’s army.

The first move was a volley of arrows; Howard’s archers, having spent a day and a half finding concealed and inconspicuous high grounds, now unleashed their arrows in unison.

The swift whooshing sound of the arrows instilled fear in the enemy ranks.

Those seemingly brief whooshes could claim many lives.

Mibo’s vanguard bore the brunt of this arrow volley, suffering heavy casualties, with numerous light infantrymen shot dead on the spot.

The heavy infantry fared better if their shields blocked the arrows, but those with smaller shields who failed to block the arrows met with injury or death.

Mibo had a significant number of archers, but their unfamiliarity with the terrain and ignorance of the enemy archers’ positions rendered them ineffective.

Shouts of alarm and cries of agony from the front lines caused Mibo’s eyes to widen in disbelief, unable to accept the reality unfolding before him.

Mibo unsheathed his sword, yet upon doing so, he found himself at a loss for what to do next.

To onlookers, the sight was almost comical: Mibo, with his sword drawn, remained frozen in place, an image of indecision.

Ivan, gripping his knightly sword, turned to face his men and bellowed, “Follow my command, charge! The battle in the forest is a narrow path where the brave prevail! We are the army of Count Nok, and we shall not be defeated!”

Portwan stood hesitantly to Mibo’s left, his cheeks twitching upon hearing Ivan’s rallying cry, then turned his gaze towards Count Mibo.

Mibo himself seemed lost in thought, his mind a blank slate.

The whistling of arrows around him resonated continuously in his ears, but Ivan’s call seemed to go unheard.

Mibo’s army, lacking direct orders from their leader, engaged only in self-defense, unable to organize a large-scale offensive.

With each passing moment, the opportunity for victory slipped further away, and Mibo bore an undeniable responsibility for this delay.

In desperation, Ivan raised his voice to his father, “Father, pull yourself together! If you hesitate now, our army will truly be finished!”

Meanwhile, Hof’s army, already advancing along the forest’s edge, seemed to be seeking an opportune moment to strike.

However, the reality was that Hof was reluctant to engage in battle within the forest.

His regard for Mibo was not just lukewarm; it was outright negative.

Following Mibo’s summons, Hof had committed troops to the battle, not out of any desire to aid Mibo, but as a noble obligation.

Yet, in moments when the war hung in the balance, Hof was sure to choose to stand aside and watch.

As Howard and Ivan charged in unison, engaging in close-quarters combat, Bosiden’s keen eyes spotted an archer perched in a nearby tree.

This archer was clearly no ordinary marksman.

While the others were hastily loosing arrows to bombard the enemy, this one was like an eagle soaring in the midair, his eyes not on the common soldiers but on Howard.

Eliminating Howard would mean an end to the battle, a strategic move revealing the archer’s deep understanding of the war’s objectives.

Bosiden, however, was no ordinary observer.

He saw through this tactical play.

Without a bow and arrow at his disposal, Bosiden couldn’t reach the archer.

But with a clever mind, he quietly retreated and relayed this information to Resarite.

Resarite instantly took a bow and arrow handed over by a nearby archer and followed Bosiden to the base of the tree.

Peering through the expansive leaves of the sycamore, Resarite spotted the concealed archer.

Without a word, he drew his bow, aimed, and released the arrow.

The shot struck its target.

The archer, in pain and unable to maintain his balance, fell to the ground.

Examining the fallen man’s equipment and face, Bosiden remarked, “This man is no noble, just a commoner with keen insight.”

Hearing this, Resarite fluidly approached the man, now writhing in agony on the ground.

Drawing his sword, Resarite plunged it down in a swift thrust, ending the man’s life.

The archer’s screams of agony echoed hauntingly.

Resarite blinked and turned to Bosiden, saying, “You did very well, protecting our lord. Bosiden, my respect for you grows with each passing moment.”

Ivan and Howard, standing nearby, were engaged in a battle as intense as it was exhilarating, their sweat glistening in the throes of combat.

Ivan wielded a broad greatsword, each swing and parry cutting through the air with a resonant “clang” and “whoosh”.

He was a robust figure, his strength evident in every move.

Howard was equally formidable, the two proving to be evenly matched on the battlefield.

Resarite, observing this duel, chose not to shoot Ivan with his bow and arrow.

Both Ivan and Howard were nobles, and their confrontation could have been a chance encounter on the battlefield or a prearranged duel of honor among nobility, a ritual not to be interfered with by outsiders.

Raising his voice, Resarite called out to Howard, “Howard, are you engaging in a noble duel with this man?”

Howard responded realistically, “No! It’s just a situation where he wants to kill me, and I want to kill him.”

Hearing this, Resarite, initially inclined to shoot, hesitated.

His archery skills were commendable, but he feared accidentally hitting Howard.

The combat between the two was fierce; with every strike of their greatswords, ample room was left for counterattacks, their fighting range overlapping and their movements rapid and vigorous.

In such a volatile situation, an arrow could indeed easily stray. 𝘪.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Resarite and Bosiden then surrounded Ivan.

Addressing him, Resarite said, “Lay down your weapon, and we will treat you with the honor due to a noble.”

Ivan, sensing his disadvantage yet unwilling to concede, retorted, “I haven’t lost yet. Why should I surrender?”

Bosiden remained silent, deferring to Resarite in a gesture of respect and deference.

Holding a single-handed sword, its blade pointing downwards, Resarite spoke to Ivan, “This isn’t a noble duel between you two, so others can attack you. If you refuse to surrender, it will simply mean that we’ll have to defeat you ourselves.”

Howard remained silent.

At this moment, Ivan, having no reason to cease fighting, continued his assault.

Howard also refrained from urging Ivan to surrender; such words coming from him would seem inappropriate.

Despite Resarite’s several attempts at persuasion, Ivan steadfastly refused to yield.

Choosing to fight, Resarite charged towards Ivan, while Bosiden rapidly closed in on the space between Resarite and Howard.

Howard swung his sword in a powerful arc, forcing Ivan to leap backward.

Immediately, Resarite struck with his sword, hitting Ivan. .𝒎

Though there was no blood, the blow visibly affected Ivan.

At the right moment, Bosiden thrust forward, his sword striking Ivan’s armor and halting his intended counterstrike.

Seizing the opportunity, Howard brought his two-handed sword down heavily beside Ivan’s foot, splattering mud and creating a large pit in the ground.

Ivan, understanding this as Howard’s concession — the blow was meant for him — looked at the vast pit, his face pale beneath his chainmail helmet.

After an internal struggle, he laid down his weapons.

Meanwhile, old Mibo was fighting in what seemed a half-hearted manner.

His guards, skilled in combat, had carved a bloody path, but due to Mibo’s confusion, they had ventured deep into enemy lines.

Before Mibo could grasp the situation, his guard was overwhelmed by a group of cavalry and crushed to the ground.

Struggling to rise, Mibo’s guards were soon surrounded by numerous light infantry, among them several experienced soldiers clad in thick leather armor.

Alonso, commanding his cavalry unit, charged once again towards the group.

The area, a flat expanse with fewer trees, offered little cover.

Mibo, clad in armor, was struck fiercely by Alonso’s lance, the blow sending him flying backward to crash against a rock, where he fell unconscious.

Mibo’s guards let out a battle cry, striving to stave off fear.

However, their equipment was inadequate; they wielded only single-handed swords and shields, too short to effectively combat the cavalry’s long lances.

As the cavalry bore down upon them, Mibo’s guards could do little but raise their shields in a desperate defense.

After the cavalry’s charge, several of Mibo’s guards lay slain.

The survivors, some of whom managed to block the lances with their shields, steadied themselves.

Yet, even those who successfully parried the blows found the combined force of the lance and the charging horse too overwhelming, being hurled backward with great force.

𝘪𝑎.𝘤𝑜𝑚