Chapter 164: The Secret Form Reveals Its Power

James led three apprentice knights, fifteen elite soldiers, four seasoned hunters, and over a dozen hunting dogs through the dense forest. Their swords were drawn, crossbows cocked, and an intense aura of hostility hung in the air, silencing insects, startling birds into flight, and causing wild beasts to crouch low. The entire woodland fell into an eerie stillness, broken only by the heavy footsteps and panting of the hounds.

The chief huntsman of Baron Matthew’s household called to the restless dogs sniffing around. “Young master, if we keep going like this, we won’t find the ferocious wolves. Those beasts are extremely alert; at the slightest disturbance, they vanish into the distance. They’re swift and silent, both savage and cunning. They observe us in secret, choosing the weakest among us to attack. Whenever we let our guard down, they strike, wearing down our stamina and willpower until we can no longer maintain a tight formation—that’s when they begin their hunt.”

James frowned slightly. Though he had never faced ferocious wolves himself, he knew they were notoriously difficult creatures. Their strength wasn’t overwhelming, but their instincts for danger were razor-sharp. Without the right tactics, even a great knight would find it impossible to track them down.

“Old Bard, do you have any ideas?” James asked the elder retainer.

Hunting was a vital pastime and social event for the nobility, and the chief huntsman, though not necessarily the finest hunter, was always the most knowledgeable. Bard had inherited not only his position from his father but also a wealth of hunting lore. He knew the best way to deal with ferocious wolves was simply not to provoke them. After all, these wolves rarely left their territory on a whim. Yet, this was hardly the advice James sought.

Bard sighed. “Young master, if we want to drive the ferocious wolves away, we’d have to gather an army and wipe out all the game in this forest. Without food, the wolves would have no choice but to leave. To hunt the wolves, you’d have to lie in wait near the water source for a very long time.”

James’s expression darkened. Though Bard hadn’t specified how long “a very long time” was, it was certainly more than a day or two. But James had no time to waste lingering in this forest with ferocious wolves lurking.

“We’re not here to hunt the wolves—we’re here to find clues. Humph! I refuse to believe that a few hundred men could be devoured by wolves without a trace. Bard, find a way to locate the remains of the missing. I want to see who’s really behind this!”

Bard hesitated. Searching for clues in the forest without spreading out was impossible. But with ferocious wolves about, sending men in different directions was tantamount to a death sentence. Yet James’s stern gaze left no room for argument.

“Then the only option is to send out the Godzilla hunting bears,” Bard said through gritted teeth.

The Godzilla hunting bears were powerful, large, and fierce dogs known for their keen noses and fearless loyalty, bred to battle wild beasts. These dogs were rare and valuable, a point of pride for any noble family. The dogs James brought were gifts from his sister, Lady Judy, to bolster his family’s prestige. Baron Matthew treasured them dearly; had it not been for James’s insistence on confronting the ferocious wolves himself, the baron would never have allowed Bard to bring them out.

James hesitated. No matter how formidable the Godzilla hunting bears were, they were still dogs—and against ferocious wolves, they might not be enough. Yet, with hundreds of people mysteriously missing, he was determined to uncover the truth before disaster struck.

“Release the hounds!”

The dozen or so sturdy hunting bears split into three groups, each running off in different directions. James and his men remained on guard. According to their training, the dogs would cover a five-kilometer radius, alerting them if any fierce beasts were found.

Minutes ticked by. Just as Bard exhaled in relief, a wild cacophony of barking erupted from the south. James ordered, “Move out!”

James’s men, seasoned soldiers and hunters alike, moved swiftly through the trees. Soon, they spotted several Godzilla hunting bears snarling at a group of armed men. The strangers were clad in armor and carried weapons, their imposing figures immediately raising their crossbows in defense upon seeing James’s party. James’s men mirrored the gesture. Tension thickened as both sides squared off.

James’s pupils narrowed. More than thirty well-equipped soldiers stood before him, led by a warrior wielding two vicious-looking one-handed battle axes, clad in impenetrable dark armor. Though James didn’t recognize the metal of the armor, he noted the axes and armor lacked the distinctive purple-gold sheen of adamantine. This meant the leader was likely not a great knight, for even without mithril, great knights would never be without adamantine gear.

Drawing his adamantine longsword, James was about to demand an explanation when the dark-armored warrior spoke first.

“Who are you? Why have you entered our lands?”

The warrior’s voice was deep and resonant, ringing sharply in James’s ears. He felt a chill and answered, “I am Lord James of the Briat family. Who are you?”

“I am Lord Nelson of the Landell family. Lord James, why do you bring so many soldiers into our Landell forest?” The warrior removed his helmet, his voice grave.

James frowned in confusion. He had never heard of the Landell family. However, he knew Nelson was a trusted lieutenant of Baron Victor Wimbledon, the neighboring lord. Nelson wasn’t a knight but a savage warrior. But since Victor was a pioneering lord with the right to establish new houses and grant titles to subordinates, it wasn’t surprising that Nelson held the title of lord.

James set aside these matters; what mattered was whether the missing villagers had anything to do with these people.

“Lord Nelson, over three hundred villagers have disappeared in this forest. I’m here to investigate. Are you aware of this?”

Nelson nodded. “Recently, many free folk have been hunting in this forest. It just so happens the ferocious wolves are active here. After our warnings, those people relocated to Rivermouth Village.”

“Free folk? Hmph! Most of them are our Baron Matthew’s subjects, many vassals and serfs. How dare you detain Briat family subjects?!” James’s voice rose in anger.

“Detain? Free folk move about freely. Those who wish to stay remain; those who wish to leave have gone. We Landells neither detain others’ subjects nor have the resources to feed them,” Nelson replied.

“Over three hundred missing without a single return—how do you explain that?” James’s face darkened.

“Just because you say none have returned doesn’t make it so. If no one came back, how do you even know to search this forest?” Nelson’s eyes flashed, and his tone grew mocking. “In the end, it’s about territory, isn’t it?” He lowered his helmet, brandishing his axe. “Enough talk—let’s settle this one-on-one. Choose your champion!”

In the wilderness, whether human or beast, the rule was simple: the strongest spoke. Knights were no exception. James wasn’t there to claim land—wolves roamed here, making occupation pointless. But facing an evenly matched opponent, it was only fitting to determine superiority first.

“Lord Nelson, remember, we nobles speak of duels and battles. One-on-one fights are the language of the lowborn,” James said, lowering his helmet, sword and shield crossed as he commanded, “A duel!”

For knights, an encounter in the wild was either a battle or a duel. A battle meant each side’s knights would slaughter the other’s elite troops until only one remained. A duel was a direct contest of their strongest fighters to decide the victor. Generally, knights preferred duels, allowing their opponents to surrender.

James was confident of victory. He wished to spare his elite soldiers and considered Landell’s ties to the York family. Defeating Nelson might also earn a handsome ransom from Baron Victor. This time, James planned to demand food rather than gold.

“Same difference,” Nelson sneered.

His leg muscles tensed, and without warning, he charged at James like a cannonball. His iron battle axe sliced through the air with a terrifying roar.

The ferocity of the strike startled James. Nelson’s strength neared the peak of a bronze knight. James knew he could not block the blow head-on.

If you can’t block it, then don’t! Channeling his fighting spirit, James’s mastery of the four elements enhanced his mind, senses, and strength to a harmonious peak. He slammed his sword heavily against Nelson’s axe side, stepping forward with a sidestep. The sharp adamantine blade flashed like a streak of light, aiming straight at Nelson’s throat.

A knight’s power lay in the unity of spirit and body. Even stronger savage creatures often fell before a knight’s blade, and ferocious warriors were no exception. Months ago, Nelson would have struggled against such a fierce counterattack. But he had trained both the Bull Form, boosting raw power, and the Agile Monkey Form, heightening perception. Together these greatly enhanced Nelson’s combat prowess.

The Agile Monkey Form trained the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body, seeking mind-body unity. At its highest level, it was akin to a knight’s discipline. Though Nelson had only practiced briefly and was far from a knight’s level, the form emphasized anticipation—the highest skill being “before the autumn wind moves, the cicada senses it first,” a combat technique ordinary knights lacked. From the start, Nelson watched James’s shoulders, elbows, hips, and knees. James’s shoulder feint, elbow lift, knee bend, and hip twist revealed his next move.

Nelson sidestepped the thrust, driving off the ground with his right leg. The earth cracked beneath him as he barreled toward James like a beast charging. The Bull Form made Nelson’s power flow seamlessly, explosive and unstoppable.

James raised his kite shield to block the charge, retreating step by step. Nelson pressed forward relentlessly, his assault fierce; he intended to crush James utterly.

Struggling to gain ground, James realized Nelson’s strength equaled his own. Saving strength and capturing Nelson was impossible. A fierce gleam flashed in James’s eyes. Using his shield to block a heavy blow, he spun sideways, discarding the warped kite shield, gripping his sword with both hands to slash Nelson’s waist in a flowing strike.

The flowing strike was a knightly technique using the opponent’s force to counterattack. The blow was a combined effort. James did not hold back; his keen adamantine longsword cut like molten gold across Nelson’s waist, aiming to cleave him in two. As for the trouble after killing Lord Nelson, once the others were slain, no matter their rank, wilderness encounters judged only strength.

James unleashed the full power of his strike—but Nelson held back. Capturing a knight alive was far more valuable than killing him. Yet to defeat without killing required superior skill. Faced with James’s fierce counter, Nelson summoned his full might. His muscles beneath the armor turned dark blue-black like serpents coiling under the skin. His body hardened like iron; his strength reached an incredible level.

Nelson did not retreat but advanced. One axe swung toward James’s head, the other braced against the adamantine blade. Confident, he believed he could block the strike.

James smirked inwardly. While refined iron weapons could rival adamantine, the only fate for Nelson’s axe was breaking, along with him. As expected, the sword and axe clashed; Nelson’s iron battle axe snapped, and the longsword sliced toward his waist.

Yet James’s expectations shattered. The adamantine blade struck Nelson’s armor, sparking a shower of fiery sparks, leaving a scar but failing to penetrate.

James could hardly believe his eyes. Little did he know Nelson’s armor was crafted from a blend of cerulean silver and the chitinous shell of ant leaders—cerulean silver equipment. When Lady Gillian of the Chebman family, a silver knight, struck an ant leader, she couldn’t cleave it in two, proving the shell’s toughness. Adding cerulean silver only enhanced defense. Even James, a mere knight, let alone a silver knight, could not break this armor—at best, he might have knocked Nelson back or stunned him.

Nelson, of course, remained unshaken. His axe pressed against James’s forehead, voice cold: “You have lost.”

James’s face flickered with emotion. Setting aside the extraordinary armor, Nelson’s ability to withstand that strike and counter with ease proved his strength surpassed James’s. Sighing deeply, James sheathed his adamantine longsword.

“I demand treatment befitting my rank.”

“Of course!” Nelson laughed heartily. This was his first time defeating a noble and powerful knight outright—and he knew this was only the beginning.

“I have yet to master the highest level of the secret forms!”