As a Holy Knight
One against many.
Situations like this aren’t uncommon for those in the Knights Order. Even if there aren’t any major wars these days, minor skirmishes still break out, and it’s not unusual to find oneself outnumbered.
—But it’s precisely by overcoming such odds that one earns the title of Holy Knight.
Heath Jenkins had made a fatal miscalculation.
A Holy Knight isn’t someone who can be overwhelmed simply by numbers. If that were enough, they’d never be granted the title to begin with.
“Come on, you bastard! Don’t just stand there acting tough!”
“Die, damn you!”
Two hulking men charged at me swinging a hammer and axe. They were the closest to me, but… they were far too slow, their movements too exaggerated—their attacks completely telegraphed. It was as if they were screaming for me to dodge.
I shifted my weight minimally, effortlessly evading their strikes, and immediately delivered counterblows.
“Gah…!?”
“Urgh…!?”
Scum or not, these men could serve as witnesses to expose the Jenkins family’s crimes. Killing them was out of the question. I had to ensure they stayed alive long enough to face judgment behind bars.
Before the first two could even process what had happened, I’d already engaged the next wave of attackers.
They couldn’t keep up with my speed, unable to react in time—they were completely at my mercy.
Their offense and defense were a joke, lacking even the fundamentals.
Frankly, raw recruits were more competent than this.
From their sluggish movements, I could tell they’d spent their lives preying on those weaker than them—always in packs, threatening, stealing, and abusing others. Their true nature was on full display.
“Wh-What are you idiots doing, losing to one man!?”
Heath Jenkins screamed in frustration, but this situation was his own fault. He’d picked a fight with a Holy Knight, and now he was paying the price.
“Whoever kills him gets five times the reward! Hurry up and finish him off!”
“F-Five times…?”
“H-Holy crap…”
Enticed by Heath’s desperate bribe, the thugs’ fighting spirit reignited—but if motivation alone could raise one’s skills, no one would ever struggle.
The result was simple: they just got taken down faster. Frankly, it saved me time.
—In the end, they didn’t last ten minutes.
Everyone except Heath Jenkins lay groaning on the floor, incapacitated—well, groaning isn’t exactly silence, but none of them could keep fighting.
“At least now we can have a proper conversation… wouldn’t you agree, Sir Heath Jenkins?”
“Ah… ahhh…”
Realizing the complete collapse of his plans, Heath crumpled to the floor, shoulders drooping in defeat.
Well, I’d say this case was pretty much wrapped up.
What do you think about this chapter?
