Chapter Eleven: Close Quarters Combat

Xavier Manmoris once appeared as a towering figure in Neo’s mind. Even now, Neo could clearly remember every detail of how Xavier bought him from the gladiator merchant when he was 14. At that time, Neo wasn’t the best among the young gladiators—thin, injured, and even failing during fights. Later, Neo asked Xavier why he chose him. Xavier replied, “I saw in your eyes that you would win.”
That single sentence had an unimaginable motivating effect on Neo. After all, given Neo’s status at the time, even deception seemed like a luxury.
At 18, after much investigation, Neo learned that those former comrades gladiators, even the best among them, had all died in the sands. Neo was grateful to Xavier for giving him a chance—a chance at a healthy life, or at least more than just killing.
However, over time, Xavier inevitably lost his pedestal in Neo’s eyes. No one is perfect; everyone has more than one flaw, and Xavier was no exception.
While imprisoned in the Solis dungeon, Neo conducted a thorough analysis of Xavier, concluding that he was restrained, self-disciplined, but lacked initiative…
By then, Neo already knew he faced a public execution, but instead of becoming discouraged or desperate, he actively planned to stage a violent outburst at the execution site, even without an attack by dark forces.
In Neo’s view, Xavier was a good case study. He told himself, “Pushing oneself hard and being strict with oneself is fine, but if that’s all you do, you’ll become the next Xavier—twisted by circumstances and compromising to external pressures.”
And now, when Neo heard Ebutter say that Xavier was also here, his immediate thought was, “Xavier, don’t make me despise your character!”
Xavier didn’t give Neo that chance. Though still alive, he had only a faint breath left and remained unconscious due to his severe injuries. Ebutter and another guard, Jeff, had brought him to Croop, where he had previously hidden in the Graves family’s wine cellar to avoid pursuit. He returned to the surface for treatment, and this morning, a group of bandit soldiers arrived. Ebutter didn’t mention Lord Manmoris’ name, trying to keep a low profile.
Neo understood Ebutter’s approach. It was like when thieves broke into a house and the owner, being sick and weak, pretended not to know. The thieves took what they wanted and left. If the owner made a fuss, it might turn from theft into murder.
Lying on a pad made of clothes, Xavier looked lifeless. Already thin, his eyes were sunken and his appearance gaunt. The plump priest Norlund stayed by Xavier’s side and nodded at Neo when he approached. Norlund was not only Croop’s only preacher but also the village’s doctor. Yet his skills were limited—keeping Xavier alive was already a great achievement.

Guard Jeff was also badly injured. Four days earlier, during a fight with the forces of darkness, he had taken a blow from a demon-possessed enemy on behalf of Xavier. The physical wounds were one thing, but the more serious issue was the erosion by dark evil forces, which was extremely difficult to deal with. Norlinde didn’t have the ability to perform purification rituals and could only clean the wounds with holy water, but this method wasn’t very effective—it only pushed the dark evil forces deeper. Affected by it, Jeff looked pale and miserable, just like those necromancers. Usually, he was one of the more lively guards, especially with his hearty laughter, but now he was listless, like a wilted eggplant. Even a forced smile when seeing Neo seemed awkward.

Clearly, this wasn’t the time for hugging and crying over separation. Neo simply gathered some basic information before focusing his attention again on the pitiful-looking guard sergeant who was waiting passively for his fate to be decided.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” Neo asked, sharpening his nails with his blue steel sword. It was remarkable how he could wield such a large sword with the precision of a small knife.

“Sir, I haven’t done anything evil. The plundering and rape were done by Zakley and his men…” the sergeant said with a mournful expression.

From the sergeant’s tone and demeanor, Neo knew he had picked the right person.

When they entered the warehouse, there were two targets: a young man who seemed clueless and another alert, bearded man. Neo immediately chose to kill the bearded man, even though he had already deduced that the man was the leader and could yield more useful information from him.

Neo wasn’t an expert in torture, but he was a good student. In the prisons of Thors, he had witnessed the methods used by jailers to interrogate prisoners, including himself, and upon reflection, many of those methods could be confirmed theoretically. Still, Neo chose the younger sergeant, who was easier to deal with, rather than the old scoundrel who was already dead.

Indeed, the young sergeant was terrified by Neo’s brutality and obvious theatrics, and he blurted out everything—well, more like whined about his misfortunes.

Zakley and some key members of his squad used to be part of the Black Tooth bandits, active in the territory of Edrith. They were recruited along with their leader, “Big Black Tooth.” Big Black Tooth was executed for being too unrestrained and given false charges, while Zakley managed to get by by playing both sides and flattering others.

People like Zakley, with shady backgrounds, could be used by the nobility but not given significant roles. At the same time, they were prime targets for the dark forces. Zakley was cunning—he knew joining the dark forces would likely make him a pawn, yet he coveted their promises of benefits, so he became a double agent. Through clever maneuvering, he reaped benefits from both the dark forces and the Viscount of Edrith.

Without fully committing, it’s hard to gauge the depth of the waters. Zakley played the game of balancing acts, failing to become a demon-possessed one nor to enter the core of the dark forces. Yet he sensed the shift in circumstances—due to the public trial and the demon invasion of Thors City, he and his squad left early under the pretext of a mission, thus becoming one of the few who remained uninvolved and could observe the events as pure witnesses.

The problem was that Zakley became arrogant after that, thinking he had everything under control and could see through the situation clearly. When he saw the Westwind Battle Guild and the Eagle Knights advancing on Souls City, he believed the demons were on the verge of defeat. Greed took over, and he stepped forward to show off. It must be said he chose the right timing—there was a real need for troops at the time, and a full squad of city guards (20 people) carried significant weight. By pleasing the nobles, Zakley and his squad were given important tasks.

But just as Zakley was overjoyed, a series of shocking events unfolded. The main forces of the Westwind and Eagles were ambushed at Black Iron Square. The messengers who rushed back to report the bad news were still out of breath when the Blood Cross Inquisitors arrived on floating warships, sparking a bloody battle. Amid the chaos and conflict, five members of his squad were injured or killed. The Church’s forces were truly formidable—they fought, finished their job, and left, leaving behind utter devastation and chaos, with nobles and soldiers crying helplessly without knowing where to turn.

As if that weren’t enough, bad news came that the Westwind’s stronghold had been captured by a coalition of barbarian tribes. At that time, Zakley was once again “fated” to be brilliant. He considered two things:

First, given the demons’ tactics, if they targeted the Westwind, the Eagles in the east surely wouldn’t stay idle—they would definitely come to their aid. Although the east was considered inland territory of the Frey Alliance, and given the Eagles’ strength, their stronghold might not be captured, but the losses would still be significant. Moreover, the east had always been unstable; otherwise, there would be no need for the Eagle Knights to guard it. In short, even if things went well there, the improvement would be limited. It would be strange if those who relied on fighting didn’t take the chance to profit. Besides, with pursuers behind them, as one of his subordinates put it, “Can you expect those guys with thin legs and big butts to outrun four-legged (barbarian) creatures?”

Second, defending Souls City was a tough task. Over the years, due to the Westwind Battle Guild, they had been trapped in the desolate Monstoke Wasteland—how difficult that must have been! Now that they finally had a chance, how could they miss it? Especially when they learned that the main forces of the Westwind and Eagles had suffered heavy losses in Souls City, they would surely come desperately to seize it—any effort would be worth it. It was inevitable that there would be either surrender or a bloody battle, with the latter likely, as even three-year-olds in the Erdrit lands knew the barbarian tribes had a famous dish: stir-fried yam strips with human meat.

So Zakley led his men away again. Amid the chaos, two members went missing. That left 14 people in total, including Zakley. Notably, they managed to acquire 15 riders, 9 warhorses, and 6 mount wolves—quite some luck. At that time, there was a severe shortage of mounts; even some noble families relied on walking.

Even luckier, Zakley didn’t even think about Tulip Town—he didn’t know it had already been captured by the Dark Claws. Following the simple principle of “act according to your capabilities,” he first wreaked havoc in Barilan Village before leading his men straight to Croop.

With his smooth talk and false pretenses, Zakli deceived the villagers of Croop into gathering in the wine cellar for shelter, and then with a ‘click!’ a lock solved all their problems.
The sergeant named Yev kept talking on and on, but Neo didn’t have time to listen to his stories. He asked key questions and calculated in his mind: there were 2 people in the warehouse, 8 people in the village hall and the small bell tower, plus 4 people outside, 2 of whom were guards. That meant Zakli had only 1 person with him.
Where was Zakli?
The answer came quickly. Zakli had placed guards in a triangular formation—one in the southeast of the village, mainly monitoring the main road, the spot where Bai Ri had shot at Neo. Another was in the north, at the village hall’s bell tower, and the third was the one Neo had first spotted in the west, near the woods—a somewhat isolated large house with a guard on top. Zakli and one of his confidants, Vitz, were staying there overnight.
With the information gathered, it was time to deliver the final blow to this gang.
Ebut and two strong villagers were tasked with capturing the guard in the southeast, while Neo would deal with Zakli. The four agreed that as soon as Neo whistled, Ebut would act to capture the guard.
It was another infiltration attempt, but this time it went poorly. Neo was discovered and betrayed by a wolf tied under the eaves. With a howl, it woke the three people inside the house. Neo, who was trying to cross the open area to reach the large house, was attacked by arrows from the skylight above. Caught off guard, the arrows flew past his left arm, leaving a thumb-long gash with razor-sharp tips that curled the flesh like a baby’s lip. From the pain, Neo realized the arrowheads were poisonous!
“We meet again!” Neo immediately recognized the shooting style—it was the same guy who had shot him twice during the day. He rolled aside and pressed himself against the wall of a house. Already drawing his dagger, he sliced through the wound with the blade, cutting off a piece of flesh.
Thwip! Bang!
An arrow hit the wall just ten centimeters away from Neo, the shaft shaking and splinters flying.
But Neo remained unfazed. He flipped his wrist and threw the dagger at the wooden wall, then took out a small wooden jar from his waist. Using his thumb, he pushed open the lid and poured the sticky black substance with a medicinal scent onto the bandage he had prepared in his left hand. Quickly, he pressed the bandage against the wound.
“Ah!” Neo shuddered in pain, but he didn’t delay. He put away the small jar, pulled out bandages from the pouch at his back, tied them tightly, and wrapped the wound after wrapping and pulling it shut.
At the same time, a somewhat high-pitched voice came from inside the large house: “Using a sneak attack means the enemy isn’t many. Vitz, go to the village hall and call the brothers to fight. Luo, shoot that bastard down!”
The door was kicked open with a bang, and a nimble figure rushed out of the house, dressed messily with half his chest bare, wielding a long sword. He dashed straight toward the village hall.
Neo emerged from cover at the right moment, whistling at the same time.
Thwip! Thwip!

The sergeant named Luo on the attic had been waiting for this moment—two shots in a row. But this time luck was not on his side; of the two arrows, only one posed a threat to Nio, sparking against his greaves. Nio, in mid-air, shot arrows simultaneously—two arrows from a single draw—aiming at Witz, who was rushing toward the village hall. Witz was alert; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nio shoot. With a swift twist of his long sword, he deflected the arrow aimed at his upper body, but the other arrow pierced deeply into his right calf. Nio used high-quality yew bows and custom-made strings that were extremely resilient yet carried the force of a crossbow arrow, piercing Witz’s calf through with a sharp tip at the front. “Ah!” With a scream, Witz fell forward as he continued to run. Thud! Nio also crashed into the snow. As soon as his body touched the ground, he rolled quickly. Bang! Bang! Two arrows missed him by mere inches as they sank into the snow behind him. Like Nio, Luo was skilled at shooting two arrows at a time or in quick succession; he could even do three arrows in a row, but his skill level dropped significantly—this reflected the difference in their archery prowess. After rolling, Nio quickly got back on his feet. Soon, more arrows arrived. Nio dashed out again, shooting two arrows from mid-air, and as his body hit the ground, he nocked a third arrow. “Here’s your turn!” Bang! The arrow with its shark-toothed fletching flew straight into the attic’s skylight. Archery battles were a race against speed, accuracy, strength, and cunning. Earlier, Nio had held back in terms of strength and drawing speed. Luo had anticipated Nio shooting two arrows at once, so he was prepared when Nio shot from above. On the other hand, dodging by leaping around was good for avoiding arrows but actually sacrificed safety upon landing in exchange for speed. During that brief moment of contact with the ground, danger multiplied. Earlier, Luo had missed an opportunity when shooting at Witz. This time, impatient and greedy, he tried to strike a decisive blow as soon as Nio landed and before he could roll. He barely managed to dodge Nio’s two arrows, quickly nocked another arrow, and drew the string halfway—before Nio’s third arrow arrived. There was no time to dodge again. It hit his chest! In an instant, all his strength seemed to drain along with the arrow’s path; his arms dropped, the string loosened, and he fell to the ground. After being hit by an arrow, Witz endured the pain, got up, used his long sword as a cane, and continued limping toward the village hall, shouting, “Edward, ring the bell! An attack! An attack!” Edward in the small bell tower was at a loss, unable to speak, feeling as if there were extra heads on his head, his brain throbbing, dizzy. Witz’s shouts sounded distant and hazy, as if coming from across mountains and waters. Nio was also running. After falling into the snow for the second time, he got up even faster than before, did a backward roll, and stood up. Instead of running toward Witz, he headed toward the large house. As he ran, Witz, who had already disappeared from sight, reappeared on the right side. Nio nocked an arrow and drew his bow—Bang!

This time, it was just one arrow, fired before sound. Witz heard the arrow’s whizz and by the time he tried to dodge, it was too late. The arrow pierced his other leg, sending Witz flying like a dog kicked in the rear. He lost his sword too. Ahowl of pain and fury escaped Witz’s lips—as he had to crawl to the village hall now.

Nio continued to race forward, flying past the large house without any intention of entering it, instead heading straight for the woods to the west. Sure enough, he saw a trail of footprints leading into the woods. Glancing back, he spotted an open window.

Just as Witz kicked the door open and rushed out, Zakley chose to flee. He quietly pushed open the back window and, using the large house as cover, slipped straight into the woods.

Although Nio was about two minutes behind, he showed no sign of giving up. In winter, it darkened early and lit up late—this was the darkest part of the day. Dark vision and swift movement through the jungle were his advantages. He was confident he could make up for the delay. And if his opponent went into the plain, he could call upon White Socks. The opponent had two legs, while he had six—there was no way he could lose in a race.

While running, Nio removed his quiver and hung it along with his purple-robed bow on a tree branch. He drew his sword as well. His archery skills were fine for hunting in the jungle, but using them to chase a strong enemy was putting the cart before the horse.

Footprints, footprints, a turn, more footprints. From the footprints, Nio deduced that Zakley hadn’t gone straight through the woods but had turned northward inside them. Nio couldn’t figure out Zakley’s motives, but from the spacing and depth of the footprints, he could at least guess that Zakley was stronger than he thought—probably a Level 3 warrior or higher—and, like him, inclined toward agility.

Trees rushed past on both sides behind him. Ahead lay an seemingly endless expanse of snowy woods. Nio moved at incredible speed, like a large mountain cat—agile and nimble. With each step and swing, there was a sense of controlled power exploding suddenly.

About 10 minutes later, the woods were almost at an end.

Swish! It sounded like snow falling between branches, but up close, it was the gleam of a blade.

Thwack! Already on guard, Nio managed to dodge the sudden strike by using the delay from parrying with his steel sword. A strip of his belt was cut off in that strike, along with his medical kit, dagger pouch, and other small items, all falling onto the snow.

It was Zakley who launched the attack. He left footprints leading forward in the snow before using the trees to hide and ambush. Having missed the first strike, Zakley pressed forward relentlessly, slashing and cutting with his blade in over 20 consecutive attacks, putting Nio in desperate situations several times.

Finally, using a tree for cover, Nio regained the upper hand and caught his breath, fighting alongside Zakley.

Zakley’s sword moves were cunning and tricky, easily reminding one of venomous spiders and snakes. In contrast, Nio, also known for his agility, attacked like a gray crane pecking or a mantis swinging its arms—swift, fierce, and powerful. His flexibility showed in his fluid movements; after a brief pause or turn, he would deliver lightning-fast slashes, attacking like thunder with his leaps and dashes.

The two were evenly matched; after several minutes of rapid attacks and defenses, it was still hard to tell who was superior. Zakley gradually grew anxious and impatient, throwing his moves faster and with a desperate edge. Neo countered with equal speed, their blades clashing, sparks flying, and the sounds of impact almost continuous. Eventually, it wasn’t about mastering techniques anymore but about instinctive reactions—seeing who would make the first mistake.

Screech! Amid the grating sound of metal on metal, Zakley’s sword was knocked away by Neo.

Almost immediately afterward—

Thud! Zakley dropped to his knees, hands spread out. “Hero, I lose! I surrender! Spare my life!”

Before his words faded, Zakley suddenly lunged forward again, drawing a pair of serpent-shaped daggers from behind his waist. With a vicious grin, he attacked the momentarily stunned Neo.

It turned out that his so-called anxiety, losing his sword, and his subsequent pleas for mercy were all part of a carefully planned scheme. Zakley’s true strength lay in those daggers. He was originally a rogue, and when he used those serpent daggers, they moved like vicious snakes—fierce and swift, capable of creating over a dozen illusions with his arms.

Neo fell into a passive position once again, and this time Zakley was even more ferocious. A series of aggressive attacks forced Neo to retreat step by step until he made a mistake, causing his steel sword to be knocked away by the daggers.

At that moment, Zakley seemed to see victory within reach, his moves becoming even more brutal and reckless.

Yet, a turning point came suddenly. Neo, now unarmed, charged forward, trying to wrap his arms around Zakley’s daggers. Zakley thought at that instant, “Is this kid crazy?”

Neo wasn’t crazy. He had suspected Zakley to be a rogue from the start, because only a rogue’s stealth and ambush tactics could evade Neo’s keen senses. Neo’s first aerial strike had been extremely dangerous, and most of the subsequent actions were countermeasures.

With the shrill sound of metal scraping, Neo used his armor to neutralize the threat of the serpent daggers. He rushed in, swung his elbow forward—short but sharp—and, while still grappling with Zakley’s arms, drove it forward, creating a half-foot-long, spiral-shaped cut on Zakley’s right hand and arm. Zakley’s right arm was instantly rendered useless.

This time, it was Neo who took advantage. He launched rapid, fierce attacks—like a summer storm—from all directions, using punches and kicks.

Fingers, toes, elbows, and knees—though their sharp edges weren’t as lethal as daggers—could still cause terrible damage, resulting in injuries that were blunt on the outside but sharp on the inside. These injuries were difficult to treat and caused excruciating pain that penetrated deep into the bones. Though little blood was visible, the damage to muscles and even bones was severe.

Zakley’s left arm managed to escape unscathed, but with just one arm, he couldn’t withstand Neo’s fierce counterattacks. In his panic, he made a mistake that allowed Neo to strike him, triggering a chain reaction and a vicious cycle. His defense suffered greatly—the more he took, the less he could defend, and the more he took. Eventually, it was as if he were being chased through the air by Neo. When Neo kicked him to the ground, his front clothes were almost torn apart, with fabric and cotton flying everywhere, showing just how many blows he had taken.

“Ah, ugh…” Zakley let out agonized screams he could hardly control. Earlier, due to the high speed, his body was covered, and he was in a state of extreme tension, so the pain hadn’t been noticeable. But now that he stopped, Zakley felt as though his body was being torn apart piece by piece; it hurt so much that he couldn’t even move a finger.

Neo stepped forward, ripped a piece of cloth from Zakley’s chest, and forced it into his mouth to prevent him from biting off his own tongue out of pain. After howling for a while, Zakley’s luck ran out again—he passed out from the pain.

Neo let out a long sigh, then found a tree and slumped against it. His upper body was bent forward, his head lowered, his arms hanging limply as if dislocated. He felt every pore on his body sweating, and his thighs and calves trembled uncontrollably, like sieves.

The close combat was over, and the joy and excitement of victory had just begun to emerge when they were extinguished—not by the snowflakes falling from the treetops, but by the overall situation. Neo didn’t know if the Dark Claws had left, but he was well aware that the barbaric aliens had arrived. Compared to the Dark Claws, they were more ruthless, because they enjoyed and needed to eat cured meat.

He heard that the barbaric aliens ate human flesh because there was a rumor among them that humans ate all kinds of good foods, and their meat tasted better than that of any animal!

Neo wasn’t sure if this was true, and he had no intention of finding out in this lifetime. All he felt now was exhaustion…