After a battle.

The cavalry forces under Duncan's command grew stronger with each engagement.

Not only that, but his infantry also increased by two or three hundred men, including more than a dozen marked as one-star 'Frankish Elite Axemen,' frontline heavy infantry who first throw a wave of Frankish axes before the battle. The Franks' axemen were even stronger than the Saxon axemen because only the defeated would escape by sea. Over the past few centuries, the Gallic roosters absorbed the heritage of the Empire and the Barbarian Race, making their heavy infantry top-tier, and the Frankish Holy Knights were elite heavy cavalry.

Real Franks never flinched in hard fights; there is no need to mention Emperor Napoleon, as the French Army was also very brave during World War I.

As of now, the Franks were the forefront Barbarians, only second to the formidable Goths.

"Incorporate them!"

Duncan directly recruited the Frankish deserters, as it was his homeland; hence the deserters did not resort to plundering but gathered to protect the nearby towns, continuing to resist the Hun marauders who ravaged the entire Gaul.

At this time, the overall military competence of the Franks was very high. Ordinary farmers could be conscripted and trained to become Frankish auxiliary militias, completely skipping the phase of being mixed with ordinary peasants.

They would even come equipped themselves; given the warlike tradition of the Barbarian Race, ordinary families possessed shields, battle axes, short swords, and wealthy individuals could afford leather armor, inlaid armor, and studded armor, essentially making the recruits equivalent to light infantry.

Exiles were like the vagrants of ancient times, people without property or land, whereas the Frankish commoners often had land and houses, akin to good family sons of ancient times.

This way, Duncan's strength rapidly increased. One battle boosted his manpower to about twenty-five hundred, though still with only about a thousand to thirteen hundred combat-ready soldiers.

Teams of infantry carried the spoils back.

Riding behind on horseback, Edmundson's eyes still bore remnants of shock as he looked at the heroic figure ahead, covered in the scent of blood. He couldn't help but lower his head in reverence.

He even doubted whether troops were necessary, as that man could crush all enemies single-handedly!

In the most recent battle, he killed three enemies, armored ones at that.

In the past, Edmundson would have boasted about such exploits, perhaps at the tavern in his hometown, or while drinking heavily in a minstrel's booth, ensuring his bravery was spread by bard.

But now, he was just an unremarkable member of the general's guard.

There's no helping it.

There were too many fierce warriors in the general's personal guard; Clegane, with his lance thrusting left and right, slashing five or six people in one go, Sarmatian riders breaking through enemy lines, reminiscent of the times when Dragon Head Banner flutters over the British battlefield, even the young man behind Clegane, only sixteen, without even a full beard, stabbed and cut down one person each.

Truly, Edmundson's record of killing three armored enemies this time was hardly worth bragging about.

Not to mention he was also a minor lord with better equipment and weapons.

He pledged loyalty to King Uther of Camelot, being a descendant of a Roman officer and the indigenous people, with his mother having a bit of Sarmatian blood, thus settling locally, becoming part of the British nobility.

"If, in the future, King Uther and Lord Duncan become hostile, what should I do when meeting him on the battlefield?..."

This was Edmundson's current biggest worry.

Simply like ghosts and gods descending to the world!

Unmatched by thousands!

Edmundson, known as a 'bear-like' warrior in his homeland, could not imagine facing Duncan on the battlefield, leading cavalry charges like a reincarnated overlord. Would he even have the courage to draw his weapon and fight?

Unstoppable, absolutely unstoppable!

Even King Uther's elite cavalry, the predecessors of the Round Table Knights, with the Dragon Head Bannered heavy cavalry of Ragnar, might not be able to stop this earth-shattering warrior.

Edmundson was not the only one thinking this; other British noble cavalrymen were much the same.

Exchanging glances, they seemed to form a tacit understanding.

"Had I known, I wouldn't have been so quick to pledge allegiance to King Uther."

With Duncan's mighty strength, after this battle, unifying Great Britain would be easy. If any conflict arose, King Uther would stand no chance on the front battlefield.

At that moment, it would be like Liu Bang looking at Xiang Yu — is this person even human!

Perhaps we should surrender.

Upon arrival, these British noble cavalrymen were somewhat proud, thinking even though Duncan was famous, they were also excellent knights and lords with their own forces and deserve some respect.

Honestly, now thinking back, Edmundson felt Duncan had already shown them considerable respect at the time.

These British noble cavalrymen also had about a thousand men, and now most of them were having second thoughts, with some even considering changing allegiances already.

Subduing the enemy without fighting.

Among a thousand people, at least half were ready to submit to Duncan.

Finally, one must mention that charging into battle behind that lord was absolutely exhilarating for Edmundson!

Never before had he fought with such abandon.

Both the light and heavy infantry were cut through like tofu, with no sense of direction lost, and after breaking through enemy lines, they could catch their breath, turn around, and charge again with the lord, changing postures for another rush!

This was truly a born cavalry commander; at that moment, Edmundson could only think of one historical figure—Alexander the Great and his companion cavalry.

Duncan's horseback figure was at the forefront of the company.

He had taken off his cloak, no wonder commanders loved cloaks, these items were actually used for wiping blood, just like the red tassels on a red-tassel spear, preventing blood from causing a slippery grip on the spear shaft.

Duncan had killed so many that he was drenched in blood, and the dried blood felt uncomfortable.

This battle was his normal performance.

The feel of the Sword of Oath and Victory was exceptional, worthy of the title of holy sword and divine weapon. The feeling Duncan had when using it, how do you describe it, probably like—Dugu Qiubai wielding the Heaven-Swaying Sword.

With his strength, even a wooden sword could kill someone; holding the Sword of Oath and Victory felt a bit like the Unrivaled Chaos Dance.

To kill Duncan now, only a volley of arrows, shooting him with chaos arrows directly, would have a chance.

Otherwise, with large engineering weapons like crossbows, bed crossbows, and catapults; in this battle, Duncan was hit by five arrows, which were painless scratches that stopped bleeding right away. Because of the Avalon scabbard, even if Duncan's blood vessel was cut, it would stop bleeding quickly; it's not that he doesn't bleed, but the wound would instantly stop bleeding and coagulate.

Even an arterial wound would only spurt blood briefly before it ceased.

At this point, Duncan didn't care about the reaction of the British noble riders; he looked at the youthful boy Carl in front of him, and patted his shoulder in praise: "Well done!"

The sixteen-year-old boy slew two armored warriors in battle, worthy of focused training.

The boy looked at Duncan with an excited expression; he didn't understand before why his brother charged into battle without fear, but now he understood. Earlier, he had no thoughts in his head, just following that master into the fight against the enemy.

Once he realized, he had already killed in two rounds, and all enemies had been routed.

The morale was too high.

The Huns saw a group of people charging fiercely, seeming not to care for their lives, and became faint-hearted before engaging in combat.

Duncan was now looking at his battle gains; he acquired two combat skills in total.

He mentioned he needed to take down some Hun elites; slaying Germanic barbarians daily was turning him into a berserker.

—"Dual Weapon Combat Mastery: Only a very few are warriors proficient in using their left hand. Their left hand is as dexterous as other people's right hand. You can now use dual weapons in combat without inconveniencing your combat skills; you can perform your mastered combat moves with your left hand."

It seems one of the enemy infantry commanders wielded a battle axe in the left hand and a shield in the right hand, and Duncan converted it into dual weapon combat mastery after seizing it.

Now, in Duncan's palm, the Frank's throwing axe was spinning at high speed like a toy pen.

This combat skill is excellent!

Indeed, it's necessary to fight diverse enemies to broaden the range of combat skills.

—"Continuous Arrow [Combat Skill]: You can shoot arrows at a remarkable speed, firing up to five arrows simultaneously, greatly consuming energy. This belongs to the Hun Eagle Shooter's combat technique, requiring a strong physique to perform. Continuous use may lead to fatigue. It can be performed while mounted archery, but with significantly reduced accuracy."

Duncan's current state is about three arrows per second; shooting faster comes at the cost of accuracy, and the bow itself has a maximum shooting speed limit.

This combat skill consumes a lot of energy; continuous bow drawing results in muscle soreness, the more arrows fired, the more energy consumed, akin to continuous hundred-meter sprints.

"Sacrificing some accuracy for the ultimate shooting speed."

"Acceptable."

The initial shooting speed of the bow isn't fast, hence rapid shooting is described as continuous arrows.

Currently, Duncan's energy bar allows him to fire about ten arrows; only the Nord Bow can handle it, other battle bows would likely break directly.

The Exile Camp is becoming a bit cramped.

Duncan had to set up another smaller military camp nearby the Bandit Stronghold, deploying a few hundred soldiers there. If the Huns raided around Paris, he could promptly counter-raid.

Fight to sustain the battle!

Now the Huns are looting Gaul, and he leads troops to rob the Huns in turn; he certainly won't return the spoils to the Gauls since they are won with life-risking efforts.

The day passed quickly.

Just on the following morning, the reconnaissance cavalry sent back news: after the Hun raiders were defeated yesterday, more than twenty cavalry ran to other Hun units, then three groups of Hun raiders converged, totaling an estimate of three to four thousand with vassal army, preparing to exterminate Duncan's troops near Paris.

This is the Huns' usual tactic; if they suffer losses, they immediately call reinforcements to surround and hunt them, their troops are very mobile.

"How many cavalry do we have now?"

Duncan pondered momentarily and looked towards Clegane beside him.

Clegane was busy with tasks, he had hired mountain women to make a black dragon head banner for himself. The Great Dragon Head-Uther was a red dragon banner; he followed Duncan's orders to mark with black banner and black armor. At the moment, he looked up and said: "About two hundred cavalrymen capable of fighting, mainly composed of Sarmatian riders."

"Mounted infantry only counts for fifty to sixty."

"If there are more horses available, we should be able to formally assemble a unit of elite mounted infantry."

Mounted infantry, as the name suggests, ride to the battlefield, dismount, and fight as infantry; this was fairly common in Han and Tang periods.

Duncan contemplated for a moment; he suddenly stood up and said: "Gather the army."

Fight!

It's not his first time winning with fewer troops.

If this battle is won, the enemy's plan to harass around Paris will fail.

.........

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