After departing Highgarden, Gawen and his escort continued south.
Even counting his encounter with Garth Greenhand’s lingering spirit, the white castle had left him with nothing but pleasant memories.
As for Mace and Lord and Lady Tyrell…
They had proven to be decent people.
Luthor, especially, had been genuinely likable.
His hospitality had been generous.
His demeanor warm and sincere.
It had made Gawen feel unexpectedly at ease.
Yet those pleasant memories were inevitably overshadowed by the future.
Because one day…
He would have to bring House Tyrell down.
There was something strangely ironic about smiling over shared meals today while knowing they might become enemies tomorrow.
It reminded him far too much of the business banquets from his previous life—
Laughing with clients you secretly wished would disappear.
The knights and horses had enjoyed several days of much-needed rest.
Now another long journey awaited them as they followed the Rose Road farther south.
Along the way, they passed the ruins of Whitegrove, an abandoned castle that had once belonged to House Peake.
According to history, the Peakes had lost the fortress during the First Blackfyre Rebellion.
No new lord had ever claimed it.
It stood alone upon the countryside, abandoned and weather-beaten.
Its lonely silhouette looked like the forgotten set of a television series canceled before it could ever finish.
“It couldn’t have been just because of the dragons…”
Gawen muttered to himself.
They had already covered half the distance from Highgarden.
Yet his thoughts kept returning to the decline of magic.
Based on the knowledge from his previous life…
Dragons resembled high-order elemental spirits.
Exceptionally powerful beings capable of manifesting forces beyond the four fundamental elements.
Like living arcane reactors…
They gathered immense quantities of magical energy within themselves before radiating it outward into the world.
Gawen could sense something similar within himself.
His body continuously emitted fiery magical energy like an ancient dragon.
Only constant discipline allowed him to suppress that instinctive power.
He needed only look at Goldengrove for proof.
Ever since his arrival in this world…
The castle’s weirwood had actually blossomed.
Weirwoods naturally generated considerable ambient natural magic.
But when exposed to large quantities of neutral magical energy…
They flourished as though their dormant vitality had suddenly exploded to life.
Still…
Gawen instinctively felt dragons weren’t the entire explanation.
It was like discovering your phone wouldn’t charge.
At first you blamed the battery.
Then you realized…
The charging port itself was broken.
Whoosh!
His thoughts were abruptly shattered.
An arrow screamed past his head.
A heartbeat later…
It pierced the narrow eye slit of one of the soldiers behind him.
The man collapsed from his saddle.
The heavy thud of his body striking the ground echoed through the sudden silence.
Gawen’s mind instantly shifted into battle.
His thoughts became crystal clear.
With a single sweep of his eyes…
His druidic senses awakened.
The sensory abilities granted by the Nirvana Breathing Technique revealed far more than ordinary sight.
He could perceive magic itself.
Even the outlines of living souls.
Bandits.
At least thirty of them.
Many wore tattered rags and mismatched armor, looking scarcely better equipped than beggars.
But around a dozen stood out immediately.
Their leather armor was well maintained.
Their swords were of good quality.
Each carried a sturdy shield.
These were no ordinary highway robbers.
“Protect Lord Gawen!”
The captain of the guards reacted without panic.
His voice remained steady and commanding despite the sudden ambush.
The knights immediately wheeled their horses inward, forming a protective ring around their young lord.
“No need to shield me, Ser Harwyn.”
Gawen shook his head as he drew his sword.
For now, it was nothing more than an ordinary longsword.
But one day…
He intended to commission a pair of masterfully forged hand-and-a-half swords.
Dual-wielding.
That was a warrior’s true romance.
Harwyn stopped speaking the moment he met Gawen’s gaze.
There was something in the young Rowan heir’s eyes…
Something that instinctively compelled the veteran knight to obey.
“Charge!”
Ser Harwyn Grey gave the order.
Even so, he remained close to Gawen, sword drawn, determined to guard him.
Mounted combat was an entirely different discipline from fighting on foot.
A warhorse wasn’t merely transportation.
You had to understand it.
Guide it.
Become one with it.
Only then could you survive amidst flashing steel and flying blood.
A lance charge at full gallop crashing into infantry could rival the impact of a siege engine.
Swordplay from horseback, however…
Was another art entirely.
Every strike depended upon momentum.
Ride in.
Kill.
Ride out.
If a mounted knight became trapped…
Even peasant levies armed with pitchforks could drag him down and turn him into a corpse.
Fortunately…
Gawen was an exceptional horseman.
Indeed, he could ride almost any beast.
That was one of a druid’s innate gifts.
As for saddle soreness…
It simply didn’t exist.
His physique had long since become extraordinarily resilient.
“Grab that little brat!”
One particularly conspicuous bandit shouted excitedly.
“Take him alive!”
The man wielded a massive two-handed sword and wore a respectable steel breastplate.
The battlefield stretched across the broad, open highway.
Dense forest bordered the left side.
The bandits had loosed their arrows from among the trees before rushing out to attack.
Ten shield-bearing knights immediately dismounted and charged into the woods, attempting to suppress the enemy archers.
The rest followed their young lord straight toward the main force.
Still…
Not every arrow missed.
Two found Gawen.
He frowned slightly.
Leather armor simply wasn’t enough.
Compared to the enchanted equipment from the fantasy worlds of his previous life…
Its protection was pitiful.
A thought suddenly crossed his mind.
What if I recreated magical equipment in this world?
That…
would be something.
Still.
There would be time for that later.
The first arrow pierced his thigh.
The second buried itself in his right shoulder.
Neither wound was serious.
Drawing upon his magic, Gawen calmly forced both arrows—heads and all—out of his own body.
Throughout the entire process…
His expression never changed.
“My lord…!”
Ser Harwyn stared in stunned disbelief.
Even a battle-hardened knight like himself could never have endured such pain so calmly.
This young heir…
Never ceased to astonish him.
“Stay focused.”
Gawen never took his eyes off the enemy.
“Keep fighting.”
At the same time, he silently activated his druidic healing.
[Rebirth Incarnation: Automatic Healing Activated]
[Natural Energy -5]
[Current Natural Energy: 95/100]
The wounds visibly closed.
Within moments…
Even the scars disappeared.
Beneath him, Gawen could feel his warhorse’s breathing grow heavier.
Its iron-shod hooves tore at the earth.
The beast trembled with anticipation.
Without anyone noticing, Gawen strengthened it through Wild Affinity.
Empowered by druidic magic, the stallion surged ahead of every other rider.
It would be the first to harvest lives.
Gripping his sword with both hands, Gawen planted his feet firmly in the stirrups.
The terrifying smile spreading across his face… This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Was the last thing the bandit standing before him ever saw.
The young outlaw wasn’t much older than Gawen himself.
The sword sliced through the air so swiftly that it barely produced a sound.
Such was the difference in strength…
And speed.
A dull crack followed.
A severed head rolled across the road.
Twin fountains of blood erupted from the neck.
During the exchange, another heavy blow struck Gawen’s leg.
His trousers and skin split open beneath the blade.
Before the blood could even begin flowing…
He cast another healing spell.
The wound vanished.
Without slowing in the slightest.
His horse barreled onward, smashing one bandit to the ground beneath its weight.
Then it wheeled sharply around.
Ready for another charge.
An arrow struck Gawen’s shoulder once more.
As calmly as if removing a thorn…
He pulled it free.
Another healing spell.
No dramatic flashes.
No spectacle.
Only swift, efficient restoration.
Behind him, the rest of the knights had already collided with the enemy.
The slaughter had begun.
The bandits were utterly incapable of standing against ten fully armored knights.
Blades scraped harmlessly across polished plate like rain sliding over roof tiles.
Meanwhile…
The knights’ swords effortlessly found the weak points in their opponents’ defenses.
Many strikes split leather armor…
Some even cleaved straight through steel and flesh alike.
Yet the most dangerous outlaws remained standing.
None showed the slightest fear.
Two of them worked together to drag a knight from his horse before driving daggers into the gaps of his armor.
Several others had also dismounted voluntarily, choosing to fight on foot.
They were tougher than ordinary brigands…
And luckier.
To Gawen…
The sounds of battle were strangely beautiful.
It had been a very long time…
Since he had felt this way.
The screams.
The curses.
The dull crashes of shield against shield.
The clear ringing of clashing blades.
They awakened something buried deep within him.
The bloodthirsty side of the druid.
Back at Goldengrove…
He had always shown only the gentle face of nature.
Its protector.
Its guardian.
But now…
The other side emerged.
The side that longed for battle.
The instinct he had buried for years.
Some knights effortlessly held off two enemies at once.
But the mounted fighting did not last long.
Rather than launching another cavalry charge, the remaining riders obeyed Harwyn’s orders.
They dismounted.
Then advanced on foot to reinforce their comrades.
Meanwhile…
The fighting inside the forest became far more complicated.
The bandit archers had prepared their positions carefully.
They had even planned multiple escape routes.
They fired while retreating, refusing to stand and fight.
Fortunately, the soldiers used their shields and the trees themselves as cover.
Step by step…
They drove the archers deeper into the woods.
Gawen wiped the blood splattered across his face.
His eyes swept over the battlefield.
[Battle Summary]
[Wild Affinity Proficiency +8]
[Rebirth Incarnation Proficiency +12]
[Nature’s Guardian Proficiency +5]
[Current Natural Energy: 87/100]