Herald of Steel

Chapter 890

As time wore on, and the sky became brighter and brighter, things continued to improve for Grahtos.

And as a way to maintain balance, things kept going south for Perseus.

Chaos, panic, and desertion all started to inflict and spread throughout the army, while Perseus found himself helpless to do anything about it.

Until finally the man decided not to do anything.

Perseus found himself completely pushed into a corner with seemingly no way out.

So at the end of his ropes, he relinquished all control of the battlefield to the whims of all the individual men there, letting them whatever they wished, while he himself wanted to try and kill as many enemies as possible before he was eventually surrounded and butchered.

He would wash all his worries and fears with the blood of the enemy right in front of him.

"*Clang!* Let's die a glorious death!"

It was with those words that the warrior king at last drew his sword, swearing to himself like a martyr and throwing all his regrets and concerns to the wind, as he wheeled his horse directly to the very frontlines, joining the fight himself.

And soon he had his first kill, as his sword came down on an unsuspecting legionary.

And then in the following few while, the king found his blade dyed with a good few kills, proving his skills as an elite warrior.

After all, he had been trained since birth for moments just like this.

"Hahaha, this feels great. Brings back memories." The familiar swing of the blade also worked quickly to bring out memories of his youth in Perseus, of a time when he had fought on the very frontlines under his father.

Those were the happy times and remembering it brought a large smile to his face.

Perseus also began to soon feel much lighter and happier as he waved his weapon from his horse, the movement and exercise distracting him from the dire situation he was currently facing.

And as this euphoria filled him, the man decided to fully embrace it, handing the worry of life and death over to his ancestors above.

In such a state, Perseus was able to achieve great success with his blade, his brave and charismatic approach to the fight letting him effortlessly cleave through many opponents.

However, after a while, he noticed that no matter how many men he killed, the enemy's number in front of him never seemed to dwindle even by a drop.

When one of them fell to his blade, another soldier was already ready and even somewhat eager to replace him, taking up the mantle to continue challenging the king.

Hence to the royal man, their numbers appeared unending.

This was not of course normal, as soldiers tended to very avoid skilled opponents.

However, in this case, the phenomenon was due to his identity- Perseus, the king of Tibias.

And it was evidenced by the fact that even though the noise of the battlefield, Perseus could clearly hear the distinct hoarse cries of many officers in azhak urging their men as such,

"That is the king! Kill him!"

"10,000 ropals to the one who gets his head!"/

"Which of you can get him, the Pasha will reward you personally!"

"Land, women, gold… whatever you could ever want! Kill the king and it will be yours!"

Given Perseus and his bodyguards' very distinct and flashy armor, and the fact that this was their fourth time (Zanzan, Sissillpond, Lilybee, and now) seeing Perseus garbed as such, it was only natural for the other side to recognize him.

Thus Perseus was like a fire in a dark winter night, like a candle to which moths were being drawn, the men were attracted with almost a near suicidal zeal, for they understood what it could mean if they managed to kill him.

It would be enough to change not only their lives but the lives of at least the next three generations.

Hence the number of people who were willing to try their luck at this dangerous endeavour despite the immense risks involved numbered literally in the thousands.

Heck, if Alexander was here and he was still that slave from before, he too would have thrown all concerns to the wind and tried his hand, pitting freedom against death.

Thus Perseus was made to face one challenger after another.

As time passed, the king had lost count of both time and how many waves of enemy he had repelled, but estimated that it had to be approaching at least double digits.

At least the various corpses that lay strewn about around his horse seemed to imply that.

However that did not seem to discourage new men from trying their luck anyway.

For although the feat of a single man could never affect the overall state of the battlefield, killing him could.

Thus currently Perseus was facing his latest challengers, two relatively young boys from atop his horse.

And it was one of those young nameless soldiers who was the one to launch an attack, thrusting up his sword diagonally to try and land a hit on the king.

"Agghhh!" While at the same time, the other brother launched a diversionary attack to draw the king's attention away, loudly shouting as such.

And wouldn't you know it, this did create a momentary lapse in Perseus's concentration as he was forced to parry that attack from the other brother, twisting his body to try and deflect the blow with the shield that was coming from the left side.

Which suddenly opened up a small gap in the defense, that the nameless soldier was able to take full advantage of, timing his attack carefully and luckily landing a good sword strike on the king's breastplate, as the high quality steel penetrated the bronze armor like butter, before tasting blood and flesh!

"Argghh!" And as the stinging sensation of the stab coursed through Perseus, he involuntarily let out a pained cry.

And that sounded like music to the young boy, who thought he had gotten a solid hit on the man and hoped to see the man topple over any second now.

He could not believe he had managed to wound the king, a man of almost divine status, someone who had until now faced around ten men and came out unscathed.

He felt it would be a story he could tell for the rest of his life and still never get bored.

However this accomplishment soon proved to be a much greater bane rather than a boon for him.

As in a kind of UNO reverse of how Perseus got previously distracted, this boy too got distracted by his own accomplishments and

*Slash!*

The elite king, rapidly recovering from the wound, quickly got his bearing and fiercely counterattacked, using his height advantage from atop the horse to deliver a solid downward pummeling strike with his blade right onto the boy's helmet, severely denting it in the process and cracking the skull underneath even through all the protection.

If the boy's head had been naked on the head, the blade might have dug into his skull as far as the nose bridge.

Such was the strength behind the attack!

Puuchi!

And even with the helmet on, the boy's face soon began to flood with blood, as his open skull leaked with faucet and his body reeled and he fell over.

If he was not dead yet, he would very likely die unless he received immediate medical care.

"Brother!" And seeing this, the other brother felt his eyes redden, as he tried to rush to the other's rescue.

However unfortunately for him, there stood a very formidable man on his horse between him and that.

And in much contrast to what the duo had thought, although injured, Perseus did not seem at all fazed

This was because fortunately for him, the wound he got was relatively shallow, since the inexperienced peasant levy did not put enough power into the stab itself, and forgot to properly drive in the steel.

Of course that did not mean it still did not hurt, and Perseus did have to forcefully suppress the stinging pain of the injury.

And perhaps it was pain that made the man quite angry, as he fiercely fell upon the poor, untrained boy, determined to make him pay.

While the poor levy could only scamper behind his shield and try and hold on for dear life, for he was absolutely no match for someone even a fifth of Perseus's skill.

The 'duel', if you call it that, seemed destined to end soon, and in Perseus's favor at that.

Or so it seemed!

For not far away from this clash of 'titans', on a rooftop was a Thesian soldier belonging to Perseus's army watching all this happen.

This clever man had climbed up to this high vantage point to avoid the chaos and congestion of the streets below, and being a silent observer, he burned with pure rage at Perseus for dragging them to his death trap.

He wanted to try and take his revenge.

To accomplish this, he picked up one of the heavy earthen tiles that lined the roof of the house, and quickly took aim, hoping to spot an opportune moment to throw it, preferably when Perseus stopped moving.

And as lady luck would have it, that situation would quickly present itself, as that poor boy was soon unable to withstand Perseus's brutal attack, and tripped and fell, while the king paused momentarily to raise his sword and deliver the killing blow to the defenseless man.

It was this very chance that man had been waiting for so long, and he grasped it with both hands, expertly twisting his body and instantly throwing as accurate a shot as possible.

The huge projectile wheezed through the air like a rocket, making a low droning sound, before

*Bang!*

It luckily hit the target!

While for the recipient of this- Perseus, the hit came out of literally nowhere.

One moment he was looking down at a lowly peasant who dared to challenge him, wishing to gut him alive.

And the next moment, there was a huge earthen tile headed straight towards his face.

The king perhaps did not even understand what hit him, as the huge tile shattered into a thousand tiles upon contact and the huge momentum tipped him off balance, knocking him off his horse.

*Thud*

He fell head first into the stone paved streets and then instantly lost consciousness.

If you are not reading this at webnovel.com, then sorry, the content you're reading is STOLEN!

Let us say no to piracy! Don't take part in a crime! Don't patronize thieves!

Please come Here!

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!