Wyald had become an Apostle over a hundred years ago. He could be considered a figure who had witnessed the beginning and end of the Hundred-Year War between the Tudor Empire and the Kingdom of Midland.
However, almost every Apostle has their own quirks. Take Zodd, for example—an Apostle who had lived for over three hundred years, yet loved to roam battlefields as a mercenary during the Hundred-Year War, earning himself the title "Immortal."
The same could be said for Wyald.
Around four years ago, he had voluntarily gotten himself captured and thrown into a death row camp for entertainment. That was how he passed his time.
After Wyald grew tired of playing, the King of Midland decided to use the death row inmates to form an army to fight for him. Wyald found a new direction for his carnivals and began to display his inhuman strength.
Weighed down by heavy shackles, he effortlessly grabbed another large man who was vying for the position of death row camp leader and hurled him into the air with his bare hands, aiming for the spikes on the tower!
He was the only one who could clearly see the whole process.
Thus, under the suppression of his terrifying strength, Wyald successfully took the position of regimental commander and, according to his own wishes, formed this Black Dog Knightly Order.
He led these Black Dog Knights, simultaneously invincible and brutal, often killing indiscriminately, friend or foe, purely for fun.
But the Black Dog Knights still became famous. For a time, they were as renowned as the Hawk Company—"White Eagle and Black Dog."
The King of Midland witnessed the Black Dog Knights' horrific deeds and feared Wyald from the bottom of his heart. Yet he was unwilling to give up their combat power, so he exiled them to the border and let them raid the enemy.
Thus, it was a strategy that combined the best of both worlds.
If not for his last resort, the King of Midland would never have wanted to recall the Black Dog Knights from the border to the royal capital of Windham City.
And Wyald couldn't care less about the King of Midland's calculations. He had simply come for fun.
As it happened, the border had grown boring. It would be good to go to bustling Windham City.
So he and the Black Dog Knights, driven by his terrifying presence and seduced by his doctrine, slowly made their way to Windham City.
Following the principle of pleasure and amusement, there was almost no place the Black Dog Knights passed that was not shrouded in bloody terror.
The common people suffered miserably. Sometimes even nobles were victimized. But in truth, no one could do anything about them.
And then, a few days ago, Wyald and the Black Dog Knights arrived at this domain.
He had encountered the Slug Count, who was also an Apostle.
Such encounters between Apostles were neither frequent nor rare.
He and Zodd had met and clashed. It was no surprise that he occasionally encountered other Apostles hiding throughout the kingdom.
Naturally, this Count carried the same scent as himself. The Count generously entertained him, allowing him to have his fun.
Both satisfied their habits, but the Count did so secretly under the pretext of eliminating cultists, while Wyald did so openly and directly. He didn't like all those tricks.
Why hide? Why let morality, law, or anything else interfere with his more direct and brutal pleasures?
Even for a weapon, he chose a thick wooden club—a thick wooden club that could be found anywhere, anytime.
This was because he was absolutely confident in his strength. It didn't matter whether he had this thick wooden club or not.
That's what he thought.
CRACK—!
At the sound of the thick wooden club snapping, Wyald, still immersed in the afterglow of his carnival and unable to break free, woke with a start!
At that moment, his eyes flew wide!
With a single sword stroke, the armored knight had cut through his thick wooden club and left a wound on his shoulder!
If he hadn't dodged in time, his head would have been struck!
With a whinny, Torrent reared up on his front hooves and, with a heavy stomp, knocked down the horse Wyald was riding.
Wyald himself tumbled awkwardly to the ground.
Nidhogg seized the opportunity, dismounted, and pointed the tip of his greatsword directly at Wyald's chest and abdomen!
CLANG—!
Wyald's eyes suddenly flew open. His thick arms closed with lightning speed, trapping the greatsword between his palms, unable to move!
Having thrown away the thick wooden club, he actually became faster. It was as if the thick wooden club wasn't his weapon at all—just a burden he had deliberately kept nearby.
With a loud roar, Wyald exerted force from his prone position, holding the Lordsworn's Greatsword between his palms and hurling it aside!
FWOOSH—!
The strange force sent Nidhogg and his greatsword tumbling into the sea of fire!
THUD—!
Nidhogg crashed through the flames and landed inside a house that had already burned to the ground.
The Fire Dragon Crest Talisman activated at that moment, saving him from being briefly engulfed by the fire.
He tore off his burning cloak, quickly rose, and heard a loud crash!
The fire-damaged wall was completely shattered. A massive fist struck through like a battering ram!
In an instant, Nidhogg summoned Bloodhound's Fang to his left hand. The fang struck the incredibly powerful fist, but he used the momentum to backflip, leaping energetically and nimbly out of the sea of fire!
Nidhogg landed on the scorched earth and rolled.
He saw a behemoth emerging from the sea of fire, standing before him with a fierce aura.
Wyald's body resembled a giant ape.
His upper body, in human form, sat atop the giant ape's body, functioning as its head. Below were the shoulders of the giant ape.
The wound Nidhogg had inflicted on his shoulder had already healed.
On Wyald's human abdomen and the giant ape's shoulders were huge eyeballs, making a total of three symmetrical eyes.
Beneath the single eye in the center was a large, blood-red mouth.
Below that was the furry, massive body of the giant ape, as thick as an entire city wall.
His arms and legs hung down, his head lowered. His condescending posture was overwhelmingly oppressive.
At that moment, one of Wyald's giant ape hands was clutching Torrent, who cried out in pain, as if holding a toy.
"Did you miss something? Huh?"
After Wyald finished his taunt, he was about to crush Torrent with his bare hands.
Nidhogg stepped forward and rubbed the Spirit Steed Whistle on his finger, causing Torrent to dissolve into white light and retreat.
Though Torrent wouldn't die and could be revived by drinking Crimson Tears, Nidhogg wouldn't let his brother suffer like this.
He had also run to the end. He released Torrent to rest.
Wyald looked at his empty palm in surprise, then looked at Nidhogg and said, "You really have some interesting things. Now I'm a little reluctant to just tear you apart."
But soon, his face twisted into a sinister smile, and he spoke even more horrifying words.
"But on the other hand, tearing you apart alive—you, who have tried every trick to kill me and failed—and enjoying your process from hope to despair—that would be the most enjoyable, wouldn't it?"
"Don't you think so?"
Nidhogg didn't like to waste words.
He raised his Lordsworn's Greatsword and Bloodhound's Fang. That was his shortest and most resolute answer.
When Wyald saw this, he grew even more delighted.
Amidst an explosion of laughter, his two long, hairy arms shot up with lightning speed and struck at Nidhogg, trying to crush him between his palms!