Chapter 455 - 306: Conflict with the Holy Sith Kingdom (2)

I’ve even heard they’ve created towering Sai Dai Orefin Giant Elephant Warriors.

This was also why the other side would proactively create friction at the border, including but not limited to things like stealing cattle, seizing land, and siphoning water.

These people from the Holy Sith Kingdom had come to Gonda under the pretext of discussing the grave matter of the Demons, but even the drunks in Gonda’s taverns could gossip about the real reason for a full day and night.

No matter what pretext the other party used, they were definitely at odds with the Debei people.

The two sides had a long-standing grudge; it wasn’t something that could be easily set aside. You’d have better luck hoping for a nun to become a prostitute and a prostitute to become a nun.

Therefore, upon seeing another contingent flying the banner of the Debei Nobles trying to enter the city, the vanguard of the Holy Sith Kingdom pushed their way forward, attempting to get inside first. After all, nothing was more important than one-upping the Debei People.

Though the Barbarians always seemed to wear the simpleton smiles of easygoing folk, their pride was second only to the sun over High Cliff Castle.

Relying on their burly physiques, they pushed aside the pedestrians and squeezed through. The two groups collided, neither willing to yield, and a standoff ensued right at the city gate.

Normally, this was the Royal City, right under the nose of the King at the apex of power. Such an incident was undoubtedly a grave matter, and this kind of armed conflict was absolutely forbidden. No matter how deep their animosity ran, they were expected to maintain a certain degree of restraint.

Unfortunately, neither group had the slightest reverence for this so-called King. The Holy Sith Kingdom was already trying to start a fight with Debei, so why would they care about the King? And as for the Barbarians from High Cliff Castle, asking them to revere the King? You’d have better luck asking them to lay down their cleavers and become Great Monks on the spot.

Most importantly, both sides were powerful nobles, masters accustomed to having their way in their own territories.

When faced with a situation that made them feel inferior, it was only natural that they would start a dispute, even if it meant beating each other bloody.

At first, it was just a dozen or so men from the vanguards facing off, but as the conflict escalated, a hundred-odd people quickly gathered at the city gate.

The startled farmers, merchant caravans, and Adventurers scrambled to get away, terrified of becoming punching bags for these nobles with nowhere to turn for justice.

After all, those gleaming blades have no eyes.

Both sides were Guard Corps representing the honor of their masters. Their numbers might not have been large, but they were undoubtedly hand-picked elites.

And as everyone knows, the more elite the soldier, the more pride they possess—a pride far beyond that of ordinary men. They wouldn’t even deign to glance at an enemy’s blade, a result of extreme confidence in their own weapons and Martial Arts.

They eyed the Barbarians coldly, their hands inconspicuously resting on their sword hilts. The Barbarians crossed their arms and sneered, their eyes sizing up the "shorties’" necks and heads, calculating how a single iron fist could make one burst like a watermelon.

The atmosphere was incredibly tense. The scene was like a tinderbox; even the slightest spark could set it off completely, and it wouldn’t stop until it had blown the roof off the sky.

The officers at the front of both groups tried to maintain their own composure while restraining their subordinates, because the true decision-makers had not yet appeared.

In this kind of situation, whichever side’s leader was the first to propose peace and yield would undoubtedly be seen as backing down. This, in turn, would damage their subordinates’ morale and wound their pride.

Therefore, a standoff was the most suitable approach. They just needed to wait for a third party to intervene for a peaceful resolution.

"Boss, are we going in?" Zat was already rubbing his palms together, spoiling for a fight.

Although they were outnumbered, and setting aside the few trash-tier, greenhorn Swordsmen that Si Kai had brought, their true combat strength, all told, was only about thirty Samurai from the High Cliff Castle battalion.

But among them, not counting the Centaur Clan Warriors and the Jackal Wolf Scout, there were a full fifteen Beastman Berserkers!

As the commander of the Beastman Warrior battalion, no one knew better than he just how savage these guys were—holding back their Berserk rage was as hard for them as holding in a shit.

He was a veteran who had followed the Lord from the very beginning. He could size up an opponent’s skill level with a single glance.

’If they really fought, only those few tin cans up front would be any trouble, but just a little trouble.’

’He estimated a Berserk Beastman Warrior could chop them in half in two strikes at most. If they added the element of surprise by striking first, given the ferocity of the Berserkers, they could easily break through and be the first to charge into the city.’

"Go in, my ass. We need to keep a low profile right now." Levi rolled his eyes. "Don’t you know your boss is in the spotlight? Causing this kind of trouble now is just handing our enemies an excuse to come after us."

That’s what he said, but he had no intention of actually restraining the Barbarians.

As this was Gonda, the Royal Capital, a squad of Silver Armored Long Halberd Guards was stationed at the city gate. However, perhaps feeling they were outnumbered or outranked, they had all run back into the city, presumably to call for reinforcements.

After all, both parties were big shots they couldn’t afford to offend. If anything went wrong, they would probably be made the scapegoats.

And Levi was waiting—waiting for them to fetch someone of high enough rank to resolve this matter.

’When that happens,’ he thought, ’we’ll all be on the same side, and only the Holy Sith Kingdom will be the enemy. They’ll definitely side with me to resolve this.’

"Ignore these Debei Barbarians! Let’s charge in first!" Perhaps the other side had the same thought, because someone in the Holy Sith Kingdom ranks suddenly shouted, and the deadlocked crowd immediately began to shove and push.

Unfortunately, the towering Barbarians in front of them were like a thick city wall, standing firm and unmoving.

"Don’t fight! Don’t fight!"

A squad of Silver Armored Knights in engraved Silver Moon Star Plate Armor galloped over from a distance. In their midst was a middle-aged nobleman with a panicked expression. He was in such a hurry that he seemed to have lost a shoe somewhere along the way.

Meanwhile, another group stood parked in a side street, watching the situation at the gate. Their leader was a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache, dressed in a magnificent formal suit and seated in a carriage.

He had his hands cupped around his mouth. Magic Power surged, forming an invisible, narrow, circular tunnel that reached the air above the city gate and then spread out like the bell of a trumpet.

"Your Highness the Prince, should we go help Lord Levi?" a nobleman next to the carriage asked.

But...

"What are you standing around for? Is this how you bully people? Bullying our Debei People on our own damn soil! Roll up your sleeves and fuck ’em up!"

A voice that sounded exactly like Levi’s boomed out of thin air. The nobleman was stunned. At the city gate, Levi was stunned. Everyone was stunned.

"Boss, I was just waiting for you to say that!" Zat roared with laughter, then bellowed, "Alright, lads, let’s do it! The boss said to screw ’em up first and ask questions later! Aim for those tin cans first!"

The scene was already chaotic, so no one could see whether their Lord had actually spoken. But the effect was immediate. The Barbarians could no longer hold back; they swung their massive fists and laid into the other side.

The two opposing groups crashed into each other. Fists, Sword Scabbards, and clubs flew, and a chorus of blood-curdling screams immediately erupted.

Levi was so furious he almost fainted. He kicked the idiot in the ass. "Which one of your eyes saw me speak?"

"The voice just now was exactly like yours," Zat said, rubbing his butt with an aggrieved expression.

"The Lord’s mouth didn’t move at all just now. Someone must be framing us," Leiden said with a serious look.

"So what do we do?" Zat finally realized he had done something stupid, a look of complete bewilderment on his face.

"What do we do? We fuck ’em up first, that’s what!" The Lord rolled up his sleeves and charged toward the giant Ironman holding their banner. "Just try not to kill anyone!"

This was no time to argue about right and wrong; it was a crucial moment that would decide victory or defeat. If they actually lost, he, the Lord of High Cliff Castle, would be utterly disgraced.

With the Lord joining the fray, it was like a fierce tiger pouncing into a flock of sheep. The already teetering scales of victory tipped at an unimaginable speed.

"It’s over... It’s all over..."

The middle-aged nobleman in the distance stared at the chaotic scene. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. He even squeezed out a few tears and began to cry out in despair.