“Roar!”

A furious roar shattered the tranquil silence of the winter forest, the powerful sound waves causing icicles hanging from tree branches to tremble and fall.

“Bear Crossbow Team, withdraw!”

“Iron Lances, prepare to engage!”

Under the cover of a brief command, several burly men in leather armor swiftly dragged a giant two-meter crossbow away, making room for other burly men in reinforced clothing wielding two-meter-long pikes.

A giant bear over four meters in length chased out from the cave entrance, a thick and large crossbow bolt buried deep within its back. Fresh blood flowed ceaselessly from the wound, dyeing nearly half of its body red.

“Don’t stab it from the front, get around to its side!”

Blood-soaked fur dyed the giant bear crimson; its sole thought was to tear apart the humans before it.

Unfortunately for the bear, these hunters were seasoned veterans. Iron Lancers circled around to the bear’s sides and flanks, avoiding a direct confrontation while also finding opportunities to add more wounds to the bear’s body.

“Don’t engage, keep moving!”

The leader of the team understood that while the bear appeared ferocious, it had been struck with a special type of bear-hunting crossbow. The bolts had been specially crafted with blood grooves; their aim was to weaken the bear by causing it to lose too much blood. Engaging it directly in combat at this stage would not be wise.

“Little Pierre! Danger!”

In this forest, the roles of hunter and hunted were always shifting.

A young spearman hadn’t managed to retreat after thrusting his spear into the bear’s flesh. The giant bear struck the shaft with its paw, snapping the sturdy ironwood spear in two under its immense power.

The young spearman was also sent tumbling to the ground by the sheer force.

The giant bear turned, drawing gasps from the crowd, and pounced on the fallen youth.

Several nearby iron gunners rushed forward in an attempt to rescue him, but the bear paid no heed to their attempts to pierce its hide, focusing solely on killing the young soldier.

The young soldier named Pierre crawled backward desperately in the snow, but the bear was too close behind. Seeing that he could not escape, Pierre picked up half of his broken spear, mustering all his courage, and prepared to meet his end with dignity.

With the bear’s massive paw raised high above him, Pierre held up the broken spear shaft in a futile attempt to block.

Before the terror of death, Pierre inadvertently closed his eyes.

Yet, after several seconds, death did not arrive, and instead, cheers filled the air around him.

“Long live Young Master Richard!”

As the cheers continued, Pierre squinted, and saw a figure dressed in white burlap armor at his side. A knight’s sword had been thrust into the giant bear’s eye and into its brain.

“Thank… thank you, Young Master Richard.”

Richard glanced at the soldiers standing before him, then nodded. He turned and pushed off the giant bear’s carcass, violently yanking his sword out.

“Bang!”

The bear’s carcass crashed to the ground, leaving a massive impression in the snow where it had landed. Richard carelessly wiped the blood from his blade, returning it to its sheath at his side. “Load the bear onto the cart. We’ve had a successful hunt today; let’s head back soon.”

With that, he turned toward his horses, not far away.

“Right away,” several soldiers responded, lifting the bear’s carcass onto a wooden cart prepared for the purpose, then followed after Richard.

These forest bears possessed thick hides and incomparable strength; a single strike from their massive paws could easily crush even elite soldiers clad in heavy armor. Their thick fur rendered most arrows ineffective, and hunters who encountered them could do nothing but avoid them altogether lest they lose their lives.

Only Richard’s bear-hunting team, armed with special crossbows designed for the purpose, could hope to significantly injure one.

“Pier, your salary for this month is forfeited. Return to the barracks and receive ten lashes.”

“Yes, sir.” Pier’s mind had only just returned to his body after a brush with death. Young Master Richard’s punishments were severe, but he rewarded clearly and fairly. Pier had made a grave mistake and nearly lost his life, but Young Master Richard had saved him. Pier naturally dared not complain.

Tie Mu’s winter was filled with snow. A small troop of soldiers marched through the forest, and Richard rode a horse, leading the group. The more than twenty-strong party moved with such efficiency that even the wild beasts of the mountains avoided their path, so there were no immediate dangers.

Even so, the entire party rigorously maintained strict military formation, keeping a high level of vigilance. Aside from the sound of footsteps and the occasional rustle of armor and clothing, silence blanketed the group.

As night fell, a small town appeared before them. This was their home, as well as the fiefdom bestowed upon the Richard family—Wood Iron City.

Richard led his troops through the grand entrance of the city, and the guards at the side of the gate respectfully saluted him. The civilians going in and out of the city instinctively made way for the soldiers carrying bear corpses on their shoulders, allowing them to enter.

“Young Master Richard has brought back another massive bear! How incredible.”

“That’s only because you don’t visit Wood Iron City often. The last time I encountered Young Master Richard, the bear carried by the bear-hunting team was even bigger than this one.”

“Even bigger? The forest giant bear is no easy target, even for a quasi-knight, yet Young Master Richard hunts one down every few days. Perhaps Young Master Richard is already a knight.”

“I don’t know if he’s a knight yet, but he’s certainly more than a mere quasi-knight.”

“Ah, tsk, tsk, Wood Iron City will soon have another knight in the making, aside from our good Lord Hunter.”

The speaker’s tone was one of pride and glory, as though he himself were the knight atop the horse. Richard sat atop his horse, his exceptional hearing allowing him to clearly overhear the private whispers of the two villagers some dozen meters away.

He wasn’t a knight yet, but he was indeed stronger than most quasi-knight s. In this world, “knight” was not merely a profession or a title, but rather a true measure of strength, and the cornerstone upon which the kingdom’s rule rested.

The physical abilities of the common soldiers in this world varied greatly, ranging from elite full-time troops to conscripted peasant soldiers. Quasi-knight s, on the other hand, had all undergone strict training, during which they strengthened their bodies through different breathing techniques. When their physical abilities reached three times that of an average adult man, they could be recognized by their lord as a quasi-knight and become a minor commander in their lord’s army.

Knights stood yet another level above, their breakthroughs achieved through advancements in life and societal status, among other things.

A quasi-knight could ascend to the rank of knight by refining their body to the peak of perfection, then attempting to capture qi from the world around them and draw it into their body. If their strong, physical form could withstand the energy of the qi, they could eventually harness it for their own, forming the unique battle qi of knights.

Once tamed, the qi would nourish the knight’s body, gradually healing the hidden injuries left by their physical tempering and slowing the aging process. In an era in which the average human lifespan was forty years, knights could often live past a hundred while maintaining their combat prowess.

Even a newly promoted knight could single-handedly annihilate a squadron of fifty soldiers, and these soldiers would not be farmhands who had just picked up a weapon, but well-equipped, professional warriors.

The kingdom’s laws also stated that all knights were granted an automatic nobility title, and those who distinguished themselves in battle could be conferred with a higher rank.

A noble who already possessed a fiefdom could only pass it on to their children who had become knights. If a lord died and none of his heirs were knight-ranked warriors, then according to inheritance law, a distant relative of the deceased lord would be chosen to succeed them, starting with those closest to them. If no knights could be found among their relatives, then the kingdom would legally reclaim the fiefdom.

It was true that becoming a knight was half a step out of the commoner class and into the doors of nobility.

Richard’s natural talent was complemented by the excellent knight training he received as the eldest son of Viscount Hunter since early childhood. His body had been honed to the peak of quasi-knight status, his physical condition five times greater than the average person; he was only a hair away from full knighthood.

Perhaps he would receive his promotion soon and become a full-fledged knight, one of the kingdom’s outstanding young talents. Then, perhaps, he would be noticed by the only daughter of some noble, and he would have thus reached the pinnacle of life’s success.

Shaking his head, Richard stopped his wandering thoughts and spurred his horse forward, leading his troops toward the towering castle within the city.