In this age of endless war, warhorses were the rarest of treasures—strategic resources of the highest order. Only the mightiest of lords could afford to breed and keep large numbers of them, and they would never willingly sell their stock. Even with mountains of gold, buying a hundred horses at once was nearly impossible.
Among the nearby territories, only Count Valen possessed enough horses to be called a true cavalry lord. That was why, when Chen Mo offered an enormous sum to purchase a hundred warhorses and requested they be escorted to his lands, he was sure the count would take the bait—curious to see what kind of man he truly was.
As expected, things went exactly according to Chen Mo's plan. Count Valen not only agreed to the transaction but sent nearly half of his elite knights to "escort" the shipment. The moment Chen Mo saw that force ride into his courtyard, he knew exactly what the count intended.
So he'd shown a hint of weakness. The greedy, arrogant knights, dazzled by gold, had taken it as a sign of fear—and predictably, they'd made their move.
That was precisely what Chen Mo had wanted. Since the neighboring nobles had already begun to scheme against him, there was no reason to keep pretending to be passive. His preparations were complete. It was time to move forward.
In truth, even if they hadn't attacked first, Chen Mo had no intention of letting them leave alive. In his plan, this very knight order was destined to become the first stone in his road to expansion.
Still, this outcome was even better. If they struck first, he could annihilate them openly—turning the battle into proof of his strength and a rallying cry for his people.
He had seen the resolve in Andrew and his men—their loyalty, their quick response under pressure. Chen Mo was satisfied. His training had worked, his judgment of them had been right.
Now that the knights had fallen neatly into his trap, all his objectives were achieved. There was no need to let his soldiers die pointlessly.
Though Andrew's squad and the guard forces were strong, cavalry always had the upper hand against infantry. The sheer momentum of a charging warhorse, the height advantage, the armor—it was a force no human body could withstand head-on.
The knights were barely ten meters away. From the moment their horses began to surge forward, they would reach him in seconds.
From the instant they drew their blades and charged to the moment Andrew's men reacted, only a heartbeat had passed.
Dozens of warhorses roared and thundered forward, blades flashing in the sunlight. Andrew and the others had just leapt to shield Chen Mo; the soldiers of the guard had only taken a few steps to reinforce them—
When Chen Mo suddenly moved.
He pushed off the ground with explosive force—his body shot forward like lightning, vaulting clean over Andrew and the others, soaring ten meters through the air before landing squarely in front of the onrushing cavalry.
The two knights at the very front barely had time to register his leap. Instinctively, they swung their longswords down in unison, gleaming arcs cutting toward him from both sides.
Chen Mo's face was calm as still water. In his eyes flickered a cold, merciless light.
With a mere thought, the Sword of Kings appeared in his hand. Ignoring the blades descending from left and right, Chen Mo swung once—one perfect horizontal cut.
The strike flashed like lightning. The two knights, their gleaming armor, and their fine steel swords—all were sliced clean through.
Their torsos flew from their saddles, blood spraying in crimson arcs, while the lower halves of their bodies remained on horseback. The startled warhorses ran a few paces before slowing to a confused halt, snorting and stamping as the halves of their riders slipped to the ground.
Chen Mo didn't stop moving. He stepped forward, blade sweeping, cutting through the formation like a storm.
The knights' height on horseback offered no protection. Chen Mo was tall, and the Sword of Kings—over a meter long—made short work of reaching them.
He weaved between the galloping horses, his blade flashing in wide, lethal arcs. Wherever he passed, blood sprayed like rain.
The charge collapsed instantly. The moment the knights saw Chen Mo plunge into their ranks, panic rippled through the column. Riders pulled hard on their reins, turning their mounts around to encircle him.
But that was their fatal mistake.
Once they slowed, they lost the speed and impact that made cavalry deadly. Clustered together in a tight knot, they only hampered each other's movements—turning into perfect targets.
They surrounded Chen Mo, swords raised, slashing wildly. Chen Mo didn't even bother to parry. Every weapon that touched his blade shattered like glass. Before they could switch to another strike, his sword was already cutting through them—each swing claiming at least one life.
Armor that once deflected arrows and spears might as well have been paper. Every knight who fell was cleaved open through plate and mail alike, their lives ended in a single stroke.
The air filled with the sound of steel on steel, the shrieks of dying horses, the screams of men being split apart. The courtyard drowned in chaos, painted red with blood.
It began in an instant—and ended just as fast.
When Andrew and the guards finally reached the fight, it was already over.
The courtyard was a river of gore. Dozens of warhorses wandered aimlessly, still carrying half-severed corpses, their backs stained crimson.
Broken swords, shattered shields, and mangled armor littered the ground among the bisected bodies of the once-proud knights.
An elite force—over twenty full knights and forty squires, powerful enough to crush a pack of werewolves—had been utterly annihilated in mere moments.
Half of Count Valen's knightly power lay dead on Chen Mo's ground, and nearly two hundred fine warhorses were now his for the taking.
With horses, he could finally form his own cavalry. Andrew and his eight comrades were already worthy of true knighthood, and the hundred soldiers under them were no weaker than trained squires.
In one move, Chen Mo had struck down his enemy's elite, seized their mounts, and strengthened his army—all while rallying his people's hearts around his unstoppable might.
This year, Chen Mo had trained his soldiers and prepared his land. Now, with every piece in place, the time had come—
To begin his next move.