With a single spear thrust, he killed a mounted knight. William Carter could be said to have taken the three principles of “speed, precision, and ruthlessness” to their absolute limit. Everyone around, both black and white sides still locked in combat, was startled, staring in shock at William Carter. The middle-aged man suddenly snapped back to his senses, flailing as he crawled out of the grass, shouting repeatedly.

Hearing his shouts, the black-clad men around also began to shout. William Carter didn’t know what they were yelling, but he could feel that the waves of shouting were stirring and invigorating, making his blood surge. It wasn’t until a little later that he realized they were shouting “Wind,” which was also the name of their country.

William Carter’s astonishing skill inspired the fighting spirit of the black-clad men around him, and at the same time, drew the hatred and fury of the white-helmeted, white-armored men.

“Roar—”

Almost at the same time, dozens of white-armored warriors charged at William Carter, some wielding longswords, some swinging broadswords, and others gripping spears with both hands. This group of fierce, savage men rushed at him—anyone else would have been terrified, but William Carter didn’t care at all. He sneered, reached out to pull the spear from the corpse’s neck, and instead of retreating, charged forward to meet them head-on.

In the blink of an eye, the two sides clashed. As soon as they engaged, William Carter shouted, his spear in hand moving like a spirit snake, stabbing straight into the chest of a white-armored man. Though he didn’t look burly, his strength was astonishing—one thrust pierced right through the man’s iron armor, the blood-soaked spear tip jutting out his back.

William Carter gripped the spear with one hand and swung hard, flinging the corpse hanging from the spear aside. At that moment, another white-helmeted man rushed up, swinging his blade down. William Carter dodged to the side, then struck back with his elbow. The blow landed heavily on the man’s face, who screamed, blood spraying from his face as he staggered back.

Before William Carter could recover his spear, the rest of the enemies had already closed in, hacking and stabbing at his vital points.

William Carter could tell that although these men didn’t know martial arts, they had definitely been trained in close-quarters combat—their attacks were ruthless and fast, every move aimed at a vital spot. His weapon of choice was the Crescent Twin Blades, so wielding a spear felt awkward. He retreated, dodging several enemies’ attacks, and took the opportunity to reclaim the spear.

He gripped the spear with both hands, tightened his hold, lowered it, then let out a loud shout and smashed the shaft with his knee.

Crack! The wooden shaft of the spear snapped in response, and William Carter twisted his arms forcefully, splitting the spear in two.

This sudden move stunned not only the white-armored men, but even the black-clad men didn’t understand his intention, wondering if he’d lost his mind—destroying his own weapon on the battlefield.

Little did they know, William Carter was skilled with short weapons. Though the broken spear wasn’t as good as his twin blades, it could at least unleash greater power.

“Ah—”

William Carter suddenly roared and charged forward again. This time, he went all out, his body moving like an eel, weaving effortlessly through the enemy ranks. The half-spear in his hand constantly sent up sprays of blood, accompanied by shrill screams.

Dozens of silver-armored soldiers not only failed to injure William Carter in the slightest, but were instead killed by him—over ten men fell to his thrusts and slashes.

Seeing his ferocity and unstoppable momentum, the white-helmeted soldiers were terrified, their souls fleeing in fear as they retreated one after another, while the black-helmeted soldiers’ morale soared, roaring as they charged forward.

Across the entire battlefield, the white side was in pursuit, holding an absolute advantage, while the black side was in full retreat, at a total disadvantage. Only in the corner where William Carter was did the situation reverse—the black side, spurred on by him, launched a counterattack, driving the white pursuers back in defeat.

But their small corner couldn’t affect the overall battle. Just as William Carter was killing with abandon, he suddenly heard someone shouting behind him. Bloodthirsty and consumed by the urge to kill, he couldn’t stop himself, nor could he understand what was being shouted behind him, so he ignored it, intent on continuing to pursue the white-helmeted soldiers.

At that moment, his wrist was suddenly gripped tightly by someone. Without thinking, William Carter instinctively swung his spear back to stab, but when he saw that the person grabbing him was the black-helmeted middle-aged man who had just saved his life, he hurriedly pulled the spear back, staring at the man in confusion.

Chapter 0005: Clear Distinction Between Gratitude and Grievance

William Carter was someone who clearly distinguished between gratitude and grievance. Though he was cold and ruthless by nature, that was the result of a tragic childhood. In his life, very few people had ever truly treated him well. Precisely because of this, even the smallest kindness would be remembered by him, let alone the fact that this middle-aged man had saved his life.

The middle-aged man had no idea he’d just narrowly escaped death at William Carter’s hands. His face was full of anxiety as he shouted at William Carter, pulling him to run away.

Run? It’s not like I can’t beat them! William Carter frowned, planting his feet firmly and refusing to move.

The middle-aged man saw his stubbornness, pointed ahead, and shouted repeatedly.

William Carter followed the direction of his finger and immediately frowned. Behind the white side, dust was billowing, filling the sky and almost covering half of it.

A sandstorm? That was the first word that popped into William Carter’s mind, but he quickly realized he was wrong. It wasn’t a sandstorm, but the massive cloud of dust kicked up by a huge cavalry force charging at full speed.