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

In the bandit stronghold.

Although it has just dawned, people are already getting up to work.

People in this era have no nightlife, go to bed early, and wake up early.

The boy held the wooden sword that his father had made for him tightly in his hand. He couldn't help but look at the entrance of the village, his face full of expectation: "Grandpa, hasn't father come back yet?"

In front of the cabin, the lame old man was polishing the hatchet in his hand, and he was a little worried when he heard this.

It's been a whole night. Could it be that the guards of those noble men have caught up with them?

But there was still a smile on his face, and he reassured: "I'll be back soon. Don't worry, your father will definitely bring back a lot of meat and coins this time. Then I will go to the tailor shop in the city to cut you a new suit."

The boy suddenly showed a smile with a missing front tooth: "No, I don't want new clothes. I want my father to give my grandpa a pair of crutches first."

The folds on the old man's face squeezed out a smile: "My dear grandson is really filial, but my legs are not in the way, so I'll cut you some new clothes first."

The grandfather and grandson talked and laughed.

But the boy's face suddenly froze, and he pointed behind the old man with fear on his face: "Grandpa, it's the devil, the devil is coming!"

The lame old man looked back and saw a frightened villager being kicked over by a man wearing a red robe and iron armor at the entrance of the village.

Red blood was dripping from the blade in the Tin Woodman's hand.

The man held a blood-stained sword in his hand and walked slowly towards the village like a devil from hell.

The lame old man almost immediately remembered the domineering knight in the village. His leg was broken by that knight.

No one knows better than him how terrifying a knight can be!

"Go, go quickly, hide in the cabinet in the house!"

The lame old man pushed the boy and scolded him in a low voice.

Lothar used both arms to strike down with his sword.

The sharp blade of the sword in his hand seemed to be unimpeded, cleanly splitting half of the shoulder of the bandit in front of him, along with the wooden spear he wanted to use to block.

ah--

A sharp scream sounded.

The severe pain caused the robber to roll on the ground.

Blood flowed all over the ground and gathered into small puddles.

A trace of compassion flashed in Lothar's eyes under the barrel helmet. He held the blade with both hands and stabbed the opponent's heart steadily.

The screams stopped abruptly.

The smooth feeling of friction between metal and flesh came through the tip of the sword.

He drew out his half-hand sword and struck at the two robbers who were coming towards him again.

Prajna stood beside him, following him like a shadow.

She didn't take action at first, and these weak robbers had no intention of letting her take action.

Until, there was a robber who seemed to regard her as a soft persimmon and wanted to take Prajna hostage so that the unscrupulous and terrifying knight could attack her.

But before he got close, a string of blood flowers floated from his neck.

There were drops of blood on the three sharp corners of the ghost-faced triangular shield. Prajna turned sideways to avoid the splashing blood, but the expression on his face remained unchanged.

Blood gradually seeped into the shield.

The ghostly face relief on it showed a satisfied smile, and immediately sent out urging thoughts, trying to get Prajna to kill more living people.

But Prajna still made no move, and just followed Lothar silently, showing no emotion.

The young and strong bandits were gradually cleared away.

Lothar raised his foot and kicked over an old farmer holding a manure fork, and his eyes swept over the other person's old face.

Then without hesitation, he pierced the opponent's heart with a sword.

He did not dare to look down upon such a ridiculous weapon as the Dung Fork.

Because it is said that a demon hunter was killed by a dung fork.

Since you are holding a weapon, you should be prepared to die by his sword, no matter whether you are old, weak, women or children.

Hans and Model covered each other and fought with the enemy.

Their martial arts and equipment are far superior to these people.

In addition, when he woke up early in the morning, he was caught off guard. There was no one in this bandit stronghold who could be the enemy of the two of them.

boom--

Hans raised his shield, knocked over a lame old man, and kicked away the hatchet in the opponent's hand. Model next to him thrust out his sword and pierced the opponent's throat.

Giggle——

The old man wanted to say something, but the blood spurting from his neck blocked his trachea.

He fell to the ground weakly, looked at his grandson hiding in the wooden house, and then died.

"No!"

"grandfather!"

With tears in his eyes and hatred on his face, the boy ran out of the wooden house.

He picked up the hatchet that the old man had thrown away on the ground and rushed towards Hans.

Hans only hesitated for a moment and was almost hit by a hatchet. Model beside him stood up in time and blocked the blow with his shield.

"You horned devil, I'm going to kill you!"

"I am going to kill you!"

The boy roared and slashed the weapon in his hand desperately.

But the hatchet was too dull and he didn't have enough strength.

After Hans was on guard, he kept his shield in front of him. No matter how much he chopped, it was like a cricket shaking a tree.

"Stop it kid, put down your weapons immediately!"

Model shouted angrily: "As long as you don't attack us, for the sake of your young age, we will spare your life."

"My lord, what should I do?"

Under the giant horned helmet, Hans looked a little confused.

By this time, the shouts of killing had stopped.

The ones left behind by these bandits were the old, weak, sick, and disabled. Even if there were a few bandits holding hunting bows, their arrow clusters were all made of bone and wood, and they could not threaten the four people at all.

It was an overwhelming massacre.

Model was a little impatient and asked him to tell him that this kind of ignorant child should be chopped to death with a sword.

The people on the left and right are just descendants of bandits. Under the influence of their ears and eyes, they will grow up to be villains who deserve to be hanged.

But he hesitated.

His master is obviously a benevolent king. If he did such a thing of massacring young children, wouldn't it appear too bloody and cruel and inconsistent with the spirit of chivalry?

You know, the Lord just said last night that he might canonize them as knights in the future!

This mentality of worrying about gains and losses prevented Model from taking action.

Not far away, Lothar shook off the blood stained on the sword blade and walked over slowly.

After taking a quick look, he knew what was going on.

He was silent for a moment and then said: "Since you have picked up a weapon, you are an enemy."

"Servant Hans, Sergeant Model, you don't need me to teach you how to deal with the enemy, right?"

Snapped--

Model struck with a shield and knocked the little boy off his back.

Lothar stared at the hate-filled little boy in front of him with a somewhat pitiful expression: "Your father must have witnessed such an expression when he was massacring other people's fathers."

"When you eat your father's bread dipped in the blood of others, you will certainly not think that it is sinful. Instead, you will think with admiration that your father is awesome."

"Right?"

Lothar raised a finger and said with an indifferent expression: "I will give you one last chance to put down the weapon in your hand."

The little boy stubbornly held the hatchet in his hand, gritted his teeth, and the hatred in his eyes seemed to turn into ink and flow out.

Lothar shook his head and turned away.

"Do it, Hans."

Hans gritted his teeth and raised his hand half-sword high.

Swish——

Blood flowed freely on the ground.

Lothar lowered his head slightly and made the sign of the cross in front of him: "Heavenly Father, you will judge whether they are guilty or not. I cannot carefully screen them, let alone judge whether they are guilty enough to die, so I can only send them to see You. Amen.”

"Go on, those who dare to resist with weapons in hand, if they can't be persuaded, we will deal with them all."

Lothar gave the order.

After a while, this small village, which was quiet and like a paradise, underwent earth-shaking changes.

There were corpses everywhere and blood flowing freely.

Women and children screamed and hid in a building that looked like a meeting hall.

"Sir, are we any different from these bandits?"

Hans looked a little confused.

Same goes for Lothar.

He didn't know if he was doing the right thing.

But he knew that he could not show any confusion in front of Hans, a subordinate who admired him.

He said solemnly: "Everyone has to pay for what they have done. Besides, we only killed those with weapons and did not implicate others. This is the greatest kindness, isn't it?"

He did not order an attack on the meeting hall where the women and children were, but instead ordered: "The enemy has been basically eliminated. Model, go and inform Ryan and others to come over and receive supplies. Remember to leave some rations and seeds for those who have not resisted." "

Lothar came to the "meeting hall" and looked at the numb and frightened faces. She said nothing more to express that she represented justice.

Among these people, there may be the robbed female family members, but most of them are the family members of the robbers themselves.

They, including many of the deceased, may have been innocent and had never harmed anyone else.

But when they enjoy the food and money brought by those guilty, they are not so innocent.

It is said that no harm comes to the wife and children, but is the daughter who took the old man's money and fled abroad really innocent?

If she is innocent, how innocent are those who are poor and counting on this money to save their lives?

This is Lothar's way of doing things.

Both merciful and cruel.

In my ears, a reminder that a milestone has been completed sounded.

Lothar looked heavy and took the lead in leaving the village.

"Ah, chivalrous knight."

Lothar laughed at himself in a low voice.