Chapter 2: The Black Warrior in the Snow

The unfortunate fellow lay in the snow, his head split open, dark red blood congealing his black hair into a tangled mass. His face was unrecognizable, his mouth filled with broken teeth, and his boots had been torn off, leaving his feet bare, with his bones twisted.

The teeth began to chatter, and the body started to stiffen. Cold mist was continuously inhaled through the nostrils and lips, making breathing difficult. The lungs felt as if they were swelling like a balloon, gradually losing sensation. Before me lay an endless expanse of trees and snow mist, until suddenly, from the white horizon, a series of piercing screams echoed.

He, in a disheveled state, scrambled on the snowy ground using both hands and feet, rapidly crawling a few feet. He was then struck by the snow kicked up by a horse's hooves, which hit him squarely in the face, and after rolling twice, he turned and leaned against another tree while dragging his sword.

A small figure, crying out as it ran from across Gao Wen, was a child with light yellow curly hair, about five or six years old. Dressed in a thin robe and barefoot, it trod on the snow, with tears and mucus drifting in the wind, approaching with a helpless expression in its eyes

Because he was extremely cold, he hurriedly put on the iron armor and the padded jacket. Then he began to search around and found the fire striker on the other person's belt, as well as a piece of oak for kindling. He struck the fire striker, and it seemed to be intact. After that, he found the chainmail gloves. "Damn it, one of the riding boots is completely ruined," he couldn't help but curse.

Then, Gao Wen drew the Schwert and looked at the knight lying there. The black horse ran for a while, then turned around, circling its master's body with a reluctant expression

What kind of place is this? He looked around, surrounded by swirling snow and fog, which pelted against his clothes like grains of hail—just a moment ago, he was on the picturesque, warm, and dry Patmos Island, wearing a summer shirt, and now he could hardly withstand such cold. As far as the eye could see, there were trees, nothing but trees. In the distance, what kind of scenery lay beyond? It vaguely seemed to connect hills and wastelands. The truth was unclear to Gavin, and he did not even understand how much longer he could endure in such harsh weather.

Gao Wen coughed twice, his mouth filled with a white mist. He struggled to turn over, his whole body feeling as if it were bound by ropes in pain. When he looked beside him, he was surprised to see the sword that hung in his reception room lying there.

Gao Wen plunged the sword into the snow, and then, facing the oncoming charge, he gritted his teeth and pulled the dart from the child's corpse, letting out a cry of "Ah" as he hurled it directly at the rapidly approaching mounted warrior.

The entire forest echoed with this phrase, intermingled with the howling sound of the wind and snow. He could faintly hear the mocking voice of that wicked woman, A Jie He, in the wind, which made him feel disheartened. Yet, the will to survive still sustained him. "I will head up that high ridge and see if there are any homes nearby that can provide warmth and food," he thought to himself. With this in mind, he leaned on his sword, stepped through the snow, and began his trek toward his destination.

This fellow is left-handed! In one second, Gao Wen made this judgment with his eyes. In the next second, he quickly darted to the left from the direction the horse was charging, trying to evade the downward slash, and moved to the right. However, in the following second, the warrior's curved blade was deftly tossed into the air, rolled down, and landed steadily in his right hand.

Grasping the hilt of the sword, he drew a long sound across the ground as he stood up, using the blade as a cane. This was a slender longsword named Schwert, collected from a German antique dealer, forged in the fifteenth century. The sword's cross-guard is shaped like a double-headed axe, facilitating grip in the wrist and making it easier to thrust.

He felt that everything was no joke, the sensation of his blood coagulating and constricting within his body was not illusory, his thighs began to ache severely from the cold, making it difficult to move. "Princess of Hazaar, Ajeh! Princess of Hazaar, Ajeh!" he could not help but shout out loud, leaning against a tree trunk.

Gao Wen's eyes were fixed on the direction from which the spear was flying. He saw a tall black figure standing in the distance, appearing quite vague in the wind and snow. However, he soon heard the sound of a horse's snorting, one louder than the last, growing ever closer—a fully armored warrior, riding a black horse with a flowing mane, shouting words he could not understand, holding a gleaming curved sword high above his head, charging rapidly towards him

In fact, Gao Wen was not proficient in throwing darts at all, but the warrior instinctively took evasive measures in an emergency— the dart grazed past his shoulder, and before he could react, his curved sword was dodged by Gao Wen and struck against the tree trunk. His head, propelled by the horse's momentum, violently collided with a thick branch that jutted out, resulting in a loud "bang" as his helmet shattered into several pieces, and he fell headfirst. Gao Wen then watched helplessly as the frenzied steed continued to drag him until it crashed again into the roots of a large tree— the warhorse leaped over, while its master made intimate contact with the exposed roots, producing an even louder sound— the warrior twisted his body rapidly, spun a few times, and then fell onto the snow, motionless.

This speed, this momentum, in just a matter of three to four seconds, if Gao Wen were to stand still in place, he would quickly be cleaved in half by the curved blade in the warrior's hand

The horse neighed, and the warrior rushed forward, kicking his mount twice with his boots, turning the horse's head, and angrily slashing the air twice with his curved sword, howling as he charged once more towards Galwen

At a distance of no more than fifteen feet, the child suddenly threw her head back, and a terrifying spray of blood erupted from her small chest, accompanied by the crisp sound of shattering bones. Then, with a dart embedded in her back, she fell to the ground, rolling twice before lying motionless in front of the trembling legs of Gao Wen, her eyes still open, filled with a lingering desire to survive

Hush! Gao Wen pointed the tip of his sword at the horse, jabbing it twice, causing the black horse to back away a short distance, after which it lowered its head and ceased to move restlessly

Gao Wen instinctively quickened his pace and moved forward in the direction of the approaching child

Damn! The high-textured object rolled over on the spot, and the branch on his head was easily severed with a "crack" by the curved blade in the warrior's right hand, as snowflakes fell softly.

With a "thud," Gao Wen plunged the sword into his neck, then withdrew it, stabbing again and again. "Finally, it's done!" he exclaimed. He then struggled to prop the corpse up into a half-sitting position, which was quite a laborious task due to the heavy armor the bastard was wearing. Fortunately, he soon found a button and secretly rejoiced that it was not a full suit of armor but rather iron plates attached to the front of the jacket. Thus, he did not have to exert much effort to strip away the other party's "inheritance." Because the bastard was wearing very heavy armor, he was relieved to find the button, thankful that it was not a full suit of armor but rather iron plates attached to the front of the jacket. Therefore, he did not have to exert much effort to strip away the other party's "inheritance."