In the Middle Ages, people drew cards to be promoted to nobility.

"Father in heaven, I hope this damn weather doesn't change at a moment's notice."

Model, who had been following livestock hoof prints and ruts, looked at the increasingly gloomy sky and crossed himself.

Don't expect a group of robbers to have strong anti-tracking awareness. They have no intention of covering up their whereabouts.

After all, the knights belonging to this village have either been killed or fled.

If he fled, it would be impossible for him to borrow enough power from the lord he was loyal to to make a comeback in a short period of time.

It would be even better if he died in battle.

So they actually didn't panic at all.

When it's getting dark.

On the distant hilltop, we could finally vaguely see the faint light of fire.

Ryan, who served as a scout, looked at it for a long time and replied: "Three bonfires and about thirty people, they must be the group of robbers."

Lothar ordered: "Everyone, prepare armor."

When they were on the road, Lothar and Hans did not wear armor, and most of their equipment was stored on their pack horses.

Because whether it's his or Hans's chain mail, the armor rings are very dense and the weaving techniques are very complicated, high-end goods, and the weight is twice as much as the chain mail shirts of sergeants like Ryan and Model.

If they were not short of money, he and Hans should not even ride on war horses, but on pack horses to save horsepower.

War horses are delicate animals. Unlike well-cooked draft horses, not only can they not be ridden for long periods of time, but they also have to be fed fine feed. Sometimes they can eat better than humans.

Such efforts are worth it, because on the battlefield, a knight's life is closely related to whether the mount's physical strength is sufficient.

"Sir, do you want to put on floating armor?"

"No need, you don't have to be so cautious when dealing with a group of thieves."

Lothar shook his head. It was not that he underestimated the enemy, but that the knights in small-scale conflicts were simply a dimensionality-reducing blow to these unarmored and clothed bandits.

In this era when civilians generally don’t have enough to eat.

Even if you fall into a trap, you still won't be able to eat enough.

Their combat effectiveness was stronger than the serf levies forcibly pulled from the farmlands by the lords, but their strength was limited.

Infantry in the Middle Ages, except for a few exceptions such as mercenaries and longbowmen, is not worth mentioning.

The strongest combat unit among infantry is often the dismounted knight.

The front is a hilly area, and it is not safe to charge on horseback.

So it's close.

Lothar then asked Model to stay and take care of the horses. He, Prajna, Hans and Ryan holding a crossbow surrounded him from the woods on both sides.

The chain armor does not affect his flexibility of movement. This armor, including the chain armor leggings and arm guards, does not exceed 25 kilograms in total, which is not heavy for him.

The robbers gathered around the campfire, and the firelight illuminated their shiny and excited faces. Their beards, which had not been trimmed for a long time, were covered with stains and looming fleas.

The prisoners who were tied next to the carriage had despair and numbness on their faces.

Especially the female relatives, they will inevitably be kneaded during the escort.

After the gangsters had had enough food and wine, one could easily imagine the fate that awaited them.

The robbers were happily toasting and drinking, the low-quality wine they had stolen from the village dripping down their beards.

The poultry roasting on the fire gave off an alluring aroma, and someone squatted beside the boiling broth in the earthen pot, waiting eagerly.

"It's really a good harvest this time. That stupid knight Andel actually went to Lienz with his attendants to participate in the tournament. If I were the knight master, I would definitely stay in the manor every day, eating meat and fucking women hard."

"That's it, what kind of bullshit knight's honor is there, how can it be as fragrant as beautiful women and delicious food?"

Someone couldn't wait to tear off a piece of meat, chewed it, and asked vaguely: "Boss, each of us should be able to get thirty this time... Oh no, maybe fifty dinars?"

The bandit leader looked cold and hummed: "The premise is to take these slaves to the market in the south and sell them first, otherwise I will give you at most fifteen silver coins."

The robbers looked at each other.

They carried out the robbery single-handedly and had a rough impression of the amount of loot obtained this time.

According to the share ratio they agreed on, if it falls into the hands of an individual, it will not be only fifteen dinars.

In fact, it would be fine if it were only fifteen large silver coins of high quality.

But they knew that with the character of the bandit leader, he would probably only give them "black coins" or those pitiful little silver coins!

Someone showed dissatisfaction:

"Boss, does this not comply with the rules we swore in the name of Heavenly Father?"

The bandit leader blushed and said proudly: "You were the first to break the rules. Don't think that I don't know that you have hidden the trophies. Don't worry, fifteen silver coins will be enough for you to live happily for a long time. Besides, here is There are still many girls for you to enjoy."

"Think about it, if you want to have sex with those prostitutes in a city in Veneto, why can't you get three big bucks?"

"The girls here are all good girls, and they are at your mercy. Before selling them, you can all live the same life as the lords. What else are you dissatisfied with?"

The robbers subconsciously looked at the women who were tied next to the carriage, their expressions dimming slightly.

Being able to drink, eat, and play with women seems to be a pretty good treatment.

But that's it.

A shout sounded like a groundbreaking cry.

"Evil villains, you have committed an unforgivable sin. Only Heavenly Father can forgive you, and I am responsible for sending you to see Heavenly Father!"

"At that time, He will decide whether you will sink in the lake of fire and brimstone of hell for a hundred years or a thousand years."

Follow the sound.

In the darkness, a tall man with an iron mask stood tall, holding a two-handed sword, looking down at them like an angel.

The only window that existed on the upper part of the helmet was like a door from hell, and a sense of fear swept through everyone's heart instantly.

A tall woman in a black cloak stood beside the Iron Masked Man. The devil relief on the ghostly shield seemed to come to life, showing a cold, greedy smile.

"Ride... Sir Knight?"

Someone shouted in fear.

Most of these bandits were runaway slaves from the lords, and their fear of knights was simply engraved in their bones.

"Don't panic, there are only two of them, let me chop them to death. Whoever kills him, all the armor on his body belongs to you, and I will give him an extra hundred small silver coins!"

The bandit leader shouted to stabilize the morale of the soldiers.

But at this moment, another cry sounded from the woods behind him: "In the name of Heavenly Father, Teutonic Knights, charge!"

Under the terrifying horned helmet, Hans, clad in a white robe, jumped out of the woods like a white god of death, brandishing a sword with both hands, and charged into the unsuspecting group of bandits like a tiger descending from the mountain.

Accompanying him as he rushed out was a sharp crossbow bolt concealed by the night.

The crossbow arrow accurately hit the bandit leader's neck. He covered his neck and fell to the ground, blood gushing out.

Ryan was hiding in the dense forest and had already targeted several conspicuous targets standing by the campfire.

Those few wearing chain mail shirts, leather armor, or cotton armor must be the leaders of this group of robbers. As long as these people are killed, the already ragtag bandit gang will collapse immediately.

The bandit leader didn't know how to evade, and stood still giving orders. Of course, Ryan was killed immediately.

As the leader of one hundred sergeants under Count Werner, Ryan is not just a valet who can only feed horses and serve people.

Soon, the shouts of death stopped.

The robbers were almost all killed, leaving only three weaklings who had surrendered early, kneeling on the ground, begging for mercy.

The young men and women who were tied behind the carriage looked at the tall knight in front of them with horror on their faces, wondering what fate would await them.

Don't think that knights in this era can be very chivalrous.

There are many executioners who openly lead teams to plunder villages, rob passing caravans, set up roadblocks to extort tolls, and even take pleasure in killing people.

"You are free."

Lothar raised his sword and cut off the ropes that bound them: "I am a friend of Count Lienz. You don't have to worry that I will sell you into slavery."

"Take back your belongings from those robbers and go back to rebuild your home."