Lord Of The Lost

William felt a surge of excitement as the knight's job change prompt flashed before him. The path to becoming a knight, one of the most revered and powerful professions, was now within his grasp. However, he knew it wouldn't be an easy journey. The system's message was clear: 'potential' alone was not enough to be a knight.

He couldn't just become a knight overnight. There were strict requirements laid out in front of him, steps he had to follow. The Knight Path demanded more than brute strength or blind courage; it required a deep understanding of 'knightly characteristics', 'extensive knowledge', and the mastery of 'unique knight skills'.

For William, who aspired to walk this path, these were the hurdles he needed to overcome.

And if that wasn't daunting enough, there was an additional challenge for those who wished to become a Mounted Knight; he would need to find a warhorse that matched his abilities. Not just any horse would do. A true mount for a knight was as important as the armor on his back or the weapon in his hand.

For now, his partnership with the magical warhorse beside him was only temporary, a fleeting alliance of convenience rather than a bond forged by destiny.

"The Knight Path," William reflected, "is far more demanding than the Hunter's Path." He knew he lacked several key elements: the 'wisdom', the 'refined skills' of a knight, and, of course, a true steed that would call him its rider.

Knights were not ordinary warriors; they were the elite among the human paths, a high-level profession that carried immense respect. William made a mental note to delve deeper into the Knight Path's intricacies when he had the time. There was still so much to learn.

One of the core techniques of the Knight Path was the skill called 'Piercing Attack'. On the surface, it was just another offensive maneuver, but in reality, it was much more. This wasn't simply about delivering a blow; it was about 'concentration' the ability to gather one's entire strength into a single, devastating strike.

And when combined with the raw power of a charging mount, the impact was beyond imagination.

William marveled at the concept. The skill allowed knights to channel both their personal strength and the tremendous force of their warhorses into one strike. But he knew there had to be more to a knight's arsenal than just this one technique. 'Piercing Attack' was just a basic move, a mere introduction to the depth of the Knight Path.

To master the path, he would need to uncover and perfect more advanced skills.

Lost in thought about his future as a knight, William's attention quickly shifted back to the present. His current concern wasn't learning new skills, it was dealing with the cunning thieves they were pursuing. These bandits had learned from their previous encounters, using the terrain to their advantage, hiding in mountains and canyons to evade confrontation.

It was frustrating. Knights were renowned for their overwhelming power in open battle, and here the thieves were, playing a game of hide-and-seek. William remembered something the Forum Master had once said: "With just ten true knights standing in the border town, not even thousands of thieves would dare cross."

The statement wasn't an exaggeration. Knights were 'fearsome', and even though William and the Forum Master were only heavy cavalrymen, not yet full knights, they had the strength to chase down a hundred thieves with ease. To them, these bandits were nothing more than a nuisance, like 'chickens and dogs' to be swept aside.

Yet, the thieves were clever and avoided direct confrontation, knowing that a head-on clash would be their end.

Their warhorses thundered beneath them, closing the gap between them and the thieves. The speed of their mounts was unmatched, and the town's scouts had done their best to provide them with timely intelligence. The pursuit felt relentless.

Finally, after days of chasing shadows, William and the Forum Master had tracked down one of the smaller thief gangs, a group of about twenty to thirty men. As the two heavy cavalrymen charged toward them, the ground trembled beneath the hooves of their warhorses. The thieves, realizing the futility of escape, tried to dive into a nearby grove, seeking cover among the trees.

The terrain offered little protection, there were no mountains here, only a small forest standing between the thieves and their pursuers. The earth seemed to shake under the weight of the approaching cavalry, and William could already picture the battle ahead. The thieves might have sought shelter in the trees, but it wouldn't be enough.

He and the Forum Master were coming for them, and the power of a knight, even a knight-in-training, was not something these criminals could withstand for long.

The chase was nearing its end. Soon, William would face these thieves head-on, and perhaps then, he would take another step closer to becoming the knight he aspired to be.

The thieves thought they could use the trees as shields, a natural defense against the heavy cavalry's charge. But they had miscalculated. The forest wasn't thick enough to offer real protection. The trees were scattered and the ground, while dotted with bushes, was too flat to slow down the advance of William and the Forum Master.

Even though the underbrush might snag on the horses' legs, it wouldn't stop the cavalry's determined push.

Without hesitation, the two riders pressed on, urging their warhorses into the sparse woods. But as they galloped deeper into the trees, William suddenly felt a sharp, instinctive jolt; a wave of danger crashing over him. His intuition skill flared in warning, and a single thought blazed through his mind: 'ambush!'

"There's an ambush!" William shouted, but it was already too late to stop the charging horses. The momentum was too great. His warhorse slowed its pace, sensing the danger, but inertia was hard to fight. Just as William uttered the warning, the ground ahead of them transformed. What had been solid soil turned into something far more sinister: a vast expanse of thick, bubbling 'black swamp'.

The swamp's surface was slick and tar-like, black as night and reeking of decay. Bubbles, foul and toxic, popped at the surface, releasing a stench that could churn a man's stomach. The roots of nearby trees were rotting, collapsing into the mire like frail sticks pushed into water. It was a death trap.

[Battle Tips: You have fallen into a black magic trap – "Toxic Swamp."]

"'Jump over!'" William bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. His warhorse, a mighty beast trained for moments like this, reacted instantly. With a powerful thrust of its legs, it leapt into the air, soaring over the deadly swamp. They barely cleared the ten-meter-wide trap, but they made it; safe, for the moment.

However, the Forum Master wasn't as fortunate. His horse, burdened by the same heavy armor, couldn't gather enough strength to clear the swamp.

'Plop!'

Man and horse plunged into the sticky black ooze. The swamp swallowed them both, the toxic muck clinging to their bodies, dragging them down.

Before William could react, the quiet of the woods erupted with chaos. '"Kill!"' A fierce battle cry rang out, echoing through the trees. From every direction, thieves poured out from their hiding places. William's heart pounded as he realized the depth of his miscalculation. He had been too confident, too reckless, believing that thieves wouldn't dare face them head-on.

But they had. Not only had the thieves prepared an ambush, but they'd also used 'magic traps', something William hadn't anticipated. For the first time, he felt surrounded, outsmarted. All around him, in every shadow, behind every tree, he could sense the presence of enemies. The forest, which moments ago had seemed empty, now appeared full of foes.

He couldn't even count how many thieves there were. It felt as though the entire forest had come alive with their presence.

And then came another shout: "'Shoot!'"

In an instant, arrows darkened the sky. The thieves unleashed a rain of projectiles from the dense cover of the trees. William's instincts took over. With his spear in hand, he twisted and spun, blocking what arrows he could. The ones that found their mark clanged off his heavy armor, the sharp impact vibrating through his body. It was a relentless assault.

William quickly scanned the battlefield. The swamp behind him was writhing, its black surface greedily pulling the Forum Master and his mount deeper.

William's blood boiled with anger. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were the ones who hunted the thieves, not the other way around. The arrogance of his earlier successes had blinded him to this possibility. And now, surrounded by foes, it was clear, he had underestimated the cunning of these thieves.

With a deep growl, William turned his warhorse, its muscles tensing beneath him. He had to act quickly. "Rush!" he roared, his voice full of determination.

The magical warhorse responded instantly, rearing up on its hind legs, letting out a piercing neigh that echoed through the forest. Its nostrils flared as it prepared for another charge, this time not into battle but through it. The arrows kept coming, but in times of crisis, desperation turned into strength.

William felt the surge of aggression within him, the burning desire to push forward, to break free from the trap and turn the tide of the battle.

He urged the warhorse forward. The time for hesitation had passed. It was time to fight back, and William was ready.

The thunderous crash of the warhorse's hooves shattered the stillness of the forest, sending clumps of dirt flying in all directions. William charged through the hail of arrows without hesitation, his warhorse pounding forward with unstoppable momentum, as if the very earth trembled beneath them. The thieves had expected him to retreat, to falter in the face of their ambush.

Instead, William had done the opposite, he charged directly at them.

The thieves, wide-eyed and caught off guard, couldn't believe what they were seeing. William, undeterred by the ambush, had launched a short-range assault, his warhorse closing the distance between them in mere seconds. The closest of them barely had time to react before it was too late.

To the thieves, it was as if a streak of silver lightning shot through the trees. A blur of speed, power, and death.

'Swish!'

In an instant, the heads of three or four thieves were severed cleanly from their bodies, a fountain of blood spurting into the air. Even one of the sturdy trees, unfortunate enough to be caught in William's furious charge, was sliced in half, splintering with a loud crack. The scene was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

With swift, deadly precision, William plowed through the crowd of thieves, cutting down seven or eight men with the ease of a farmer harvesting crops. Blood poured onto the ground like a river, the fallen bodies littering the forest floor in his wake. The thieves, packed together with nowhere to hide, were frozen in fear. They had never seen anything like it.

William's ferocity was overwhelming, and it was clear they were no match for him.

"Push them back! Drive them out!" William shouted, his voice commanding and filled with the confidence of battle. The thieves near him began to scatter, desperate to escape the slaughter, but more were closing in from other directions, eager to replace their fallen comrades.

Realizing he was being surrounded, William gritted his teeth and pulled hard on the reins, spinning his horse around. He needed to retreat, regroup, and find a better position. As he bolted back in the direction he had come from, another rain of arrows descended upon him, the sharp projectiles clattering against his heavy armor like hailstones in a storm.

Yet despite the protection his armor offered, William could feel the sting of arrows that had pierced through. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw four or five arrows embedded in his back. Though they hadn't penetrated deeply, the sheer force of the impacts slowed him down. He winced but pushed on, there was no time to dwell on pain.

When he reached the edge of the 'Toxic Swamp', William quickly dismounted, urgency driving his every move. His magical warhorse, a level 10 beast of strength and loyalty, snorted and pawed at the ground, restless. It moved back and forth, its massive body acting as a shield, drawing the attention of the thieves and absorbing their ranged attacks.

William rushed to the swamp's edge and saw the Forum Master half-submerged in the black, bubbling muck. His mount had already fallen in, its hooves stuck in the corrosive sludge. The once-mighty warhorse was being pulled under, and the Forum Master had been thrown into the quagmire when it collapsed. He was unconscious, his face pale and still.

The swamp's black mud hissed and bubbled, its toxins eating away at the very earth like sulfuric acid. If William didn't act quickly, they would both be lost. Without a second thought, William lunged forward and grabbed the Forum Master, hoisting him onto the shore with a grunt of effort. The man landed with a dull thud, safe for the moment.

But the Forum Master's warhorse wasn't as lucky. Its massive body was almost fully submerged in the quagmire now, its legs completely trapped, and its eyes wide with panic. The more it struggled, the stronger the swamp's deadly suction became. It could no longer neigh for help; it was suffocating, its head slowly disappearing beneath the surface.

William's heart raced. He couldn't let it end like this. With a surge of determination, he rushed forward, gripping the gap in the warhorse's armor with both hands.

'"Hold on! I'm not letting you die here!"' he growled, more to himself than to the horse.

As he strained, he felt his strength begin to wane. But then, the moment of opportunity presented itself; a surge of adrenaline washed over him, and he felt a familiar sensation. His experience bar had reached the threshold, and in the midst of battle, he had leveled up to 9.

Without hesitation, William allocated all his new attribute points to his 'physical strength'. His body surged with newfound power, muscles swelling with energy. He braced himself and roared through gritted teeth, '"Get up! Get out of there!"'

He dug his heels into the ground and yanked with every ounce of strength his now 14-point physical fitness allowed. His armor groaned under the pressure, the plates crackling as he fought against the quagmire's pull.

For a moment, it seemed impossible. The warhorse was sinking too fast, its immense weight dragging it down like a stone. But William refused to give up. With a final roar, he called upon all his strength, his body trembling from the effort.

"GET UP!!!"

Slowly, almost miraculously, the warhorse began to rise. Inch by inch, its massive body emerged from the swamp, mud clinging to its legs as William pulled it free. With one last, mighty effort, William yanked the warhorse out of the quagmire completely, collapsing back onto the ground as the beast stumbled onto solid ground beside him.

They were safe, for now but the fight was far from over.