Winters cursed under his breath, was this guy's chin made of stone? He was now seriously regretting not having a steel plate fitted into the front of his boots.
One against two had turned into one against three, making things even worse. Winters pointed his sword at the robed men and slowly stepped backward to regroup with the Major.
Winters's brain raced with thoughts: the robed men's target was obviously the older traveler, and since he had held them off for so long, the traveler had evidently found a safe place to hide. Their plan had already fallen through;
Under the circumstances of not letting them achieve their goal, there was no need for him to try to kill or capture the enemies by forcibly fighting against greater numbers;
If the opponents hesitated, unwilling to retreat, then all Winters and the Major had to do was to hold on for a while. Once the other students realized what was happening and came to support them, these few robed men would be trapped like turtles in a jar, unable to escape even if they grew wings;
Therefore, the top priority was to delay time as much as possible.
Having realized this, Winters began to ramble nonsense to distract the attention of the robed men, "Take a look behind you, your two carriages have been stolen, what are you still standing here for like fools?
Don't you know that with just a shout, I can summon more than thirty brothers? You dare to attack an army officer in broad daylight, don't blame us if we fight you with superior numbers.
Also, it's supposed to be a sword fight, yet you shamelessly wear armor and use muskets, how despicable is that?
By the way, your swords aren't poisoned, right? That fellah who's down got a nasty cut on his arm with his own blade, you'd better go back and help him out.
Winters took a step back with each word he spoke, and for a while, the three robed men didn't seem to know how to respond to an officer who had just been fighting for his life and now was talking nonsense, irritating them.
But they seemed unwilling to give up their target and leave, so with every step Winters took back, they pressed forward.
The Major, too, sword in hand, quickly moved to Winters's side.
Winters saw that the Major's ears were still bleeding, the blood streaming down in two long streaks, dripping off his jaw.
One of the robed men, unable to endure Winters's meaningless verbal assault any longer, launched an attack first, and another followed suit.
Winters and the Major began a sword fight with the two robed men. The sword of the other robed man was now in Winters's possession, so he didn't join the duel but stood behind his peers, reloading his musket. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by novel·fire·net
This was the first time Winters had used this type of one-handed sword, with its center of gravity at the guard, making it feel incredibly agile. However, as a result, the effect of slashing was reduced.
Winters was not accustomed to this type of sword; he merely managed to parry his opponent's attacks awkwardly.
On the other hand, the Major, despite Winters's impression of his sword as merely ornamental, was holding his own with that very ornament.
In an armor-less duel, a single round could determine life or death. But after two rounds, neither Winters, the Major, nor the two robed men could defeat the other, and they all returned to a face-off and cautious probing.
However, a scream drew everyone's attention.
The two robed men looked over Winters's shoulder towards his back.
While curious, Winters dared not look back easily. He and the Major took a big step back to widen the gap with their opponents before turning to see what had happened.
The sight before them was shocking: on the pier, the older traveler who had reached a safe area was stabbed through the heart by a dockworker with a short blade, the tip protruding from his back.
That dockworker casually pulled out the short blade and, under everyone's gaze, leisurely lit the fuses of two box-like contraptions with his pipe and then turned and jumped into the sea.
At the same time, on other moored merchant ships at the pier, a few other dockworkers tossed several packages with lit fuses onto the pier and then also jumped into the sea.
One landed close to Winters. When he looked back again, the robed men were gone.
He and the Major exchanged glances; they didn't recognize what these things were, but they immediately guessed their purpose.
Hand-held explosive grenades had been used by the people of the Ancient Empire a thousand years ago, and iron-cased hand grenades were definitely not something new in the Sovereignty Wars thirty years ago.
With the fuses burning rapidly, there was no time to think. Winters and the Major jumped straight into the sea. The shockwave from the violent explosion churned the water, pushing Winters deeper.
It was only after he choked on a mouthful of water that Winters remembered something crucial: he couldn't swim.
————This line divides gunplay from the skills of swordsmanship————
Expert duelist Michael Hunter's book "The Artistic New Swift Sword Swordsmanship Compendium" details a hundred moves, with the hundredth one stating the following: The world is becoming dangerous, so please don't use a dagger as a secondary weapon to the Swift Sword anymore, if you have a gun, use a gun.