"Haha! The bumpkin's been caught!"
The young man, who called himself Willis, laughed heartily as he spurred his horse forward, aiming to sever Lann's head.
His smile lost all semblance of friendliness, leaving only sheer cruelty and an eager lust for blood.
No caution, no care.
He couldn't imagine how his opponent could possibly pose any threat to him.
Two crossbowmen hidden in the shadows, and himself a cavalryman. To deal with a lone individual... is there any suspense?
Cavalry! Soldiers of the King of War!
In the era of cold weapons, no matter how strong the infantry, they were like rabbits under the eagle's claws compared to cavalry.
Modern people lack deep understanding of this, but those who have watched Spanish bullfights might have some clues.
Those knights in bright attire rode on horses with braided manes.
