God's Apostle: Rebirth of a Lazy Genius

In The Central Plains, Far East of Atrana Kingdom, The Precipice of East And West Borderlands—

...

The dust rose in the air as a horse galloped highly, heading towards the west. It neighed in fatigue, struggling as it jumped about, making the man on its back almost fall to the ground.

The man skillfully controlled the horse by pulling its reins as he stroked its back gently and said, "Don't you give up on me now! Go! Those assholes are catching up! You stop and we both are dead! Understand?"

In response, the horse shook its head in reluctance but did not stop. Although it looked exhausted and on its last leg, it ran for the man's life nonetheless.

"Good boy!" The man praised as he looked behind him cautiously.

Looking back over his shoulders, the man could see multiple dots in the distance rapidly approaching as they raised a large dust cloud behind them in their wake.

As the man and his horse galloped towards the west, the dots in the distance gradually became clearer, revealing the Holy knights in full armor, their horses frothing at the mouth from the intense chase. The man gritted his teeth and urged his horse on, hoping to put enough distance between himself and the knights.

But as he looked ahead, his heart sank. The path ahead was blocked by a deep ravine, its walls steep and rocky. There was no way his horse could make the jump, and the knights were closing in fast.

He scanned the area for a way out, his mind racing. And then he spotted it - a narrow trail that wound its way up the side of the ravine. It was risky, but it was their only chance.

He pulled hard on the reins, and his horse skidded to a stop. He dismounted and patted the horse's neck reassuringly. "We can do this," he said, his voice steady. "We just have to be quick."

He led the horse to the start of the trail and began to climb, his heart pounding in his chest. The trail was treacherous, with loose rocks and steep drops, but he pushed on, urging his horse to follow him.

Behind them, the knights shouted and cursed, their horses snorting in anger. But the man and his horse were determined, and they climbed higher and higher.

As the man and his horse climbed up the steep trail, he could hear the knights' angry shouts echoing up from the ravine below. He knew that they were close, but he didn't dare look back.

The trail was narrow, and the man had to guide his horse carefully, avoiding loose rocks and steep drops. He could feel the horse's muscles trembling with fatigue, but he pushed on, driven by a fierce determination to survive.

Finally, after what felt like hours of climbing, they reached the top of the ravine. The man looked out at the vast expanse of land ahead of them, feeling a glimmer of hope. But his relief was short-lived.

As he turned to mount his horse, he saw the Holy knights cresting the top of the ravine. They were a sight to behold, with their gleaming armor and snorting horses. The man knew that he was outnumbered and outmatched, but he refused to give up.

He drew his sword, holding it out in front of him in a defensive stance. The knights halted their horses, their eyes fixed on the man. There was a tense silence, broken only by the wind whistling through the ravine.

Finally, one of the knights spoke. "Surrender, heretic," he said, his voice laced with malice. "You are surrounded. There is no escape."

The man didn't reply. He knew that the knights wouldn't show him any mercy, and he wasn't willing to give up without a fight. He waited, his heart racing, for the knights to make their move.

And then it happened. One of the knights spurred his horse forward, charging toward the man with his lance lowered. The man dodged to the side, swinging his sword in a wide arc. The blade connected with the knight's armor, sending a shower of sparks flying.

The other knights hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. They were clearly taken aback by the man's skill with a sword. But they didn't give up. They began to circle him, closing in slowly.

The man was backed up against the edge of the ravine, with nowhere to go. He could feel the heat of the knights' breath on his face, their swords glinting in the sunlight. He knew that he had to act fast.

He lunged forward, sword raised, and the knights charged toward him. There was a clash of metal, a blur of movement, and then...nothing. The man had vanished.

The knights looked around in confusion, wondering where the man had gone. But he was nowhere to be seen. They searched the area, but he had disappeared without a trace.

As the knights grimaced in confusion and bewilderment, looking all around them in search of the man, ahead a few distances away, the man was looking back towards the ravine with a cunning smile on his face.

Back at the top of the ravine, a particularly bright young knight flinched, sensing something unusual.

The knight turned his head and his eyes narrowed as if traversing through the distance his gaze had sensed the heretic looking at them mockingly.

Suddenly realizing something, the knight yelled out desperately as he jumped off of his horse, rolling away from the ravine. "It's a trap! Back off! NOW!"

The knights became alert immediately following the young knight's advice as they jumped off of their horses, rolling away from the ravine. Sensing the oddity, their horses too backed off.

However, not every knight among the squad of ten was so perceptive and bright. And so three knights were delayed in their action.

Just as they too were about to follow their peers, a violent tremor went through their feet as the ground below them quaked turbulently.

The knights' eyes widened with a sense of foreboding. But before they could act, a resounding blast sounded just below them followed by a strong shockwave. The cracking sound rang in the surroundings as the knights looked at each other with dread, hastily moving to get away from the slope.

The entire surface of the ravine on which the knights and their horses were standing began collapsing as cracks began spreading out on its surface like spiderwebs.

The slope of the ravine collapsed, taking it with three horses and their masters. A huge dust cloud rose, ascending toward the heavens, becoming a messenger of calamity.

The remaining knights who had retreated promptly coughed violently as they stood up, seeing a few of their horses blunging down the slope splattering blood on the rocks, the knights shivered as they inwardly sighed in relief.

"Damn you heretic! Christopher! I will kill you! I swear on my name! I will capture you no matter what!" The young knight roared in fury as he looked in the direction where Christopher was.

As the only way to the other side was thoroughly destroyed, the knights quickly turned back to find a new way.

"We should find their corpses… " A knight suggested with a frown on his face.

"Are you stupid? How are we going to search their corpses from all that mess down there? Let it be… They were loyal servants of God. They have already received a place by God's side. We must capture that heretic!" The young knight, who also seemed to be the leader of the squad, snickered.

Beyond the ravine, in the horrid lands of central plains, the man, the heretic—turned his head as he crushed the Jade human figure in his fist.

"Another one spent… I'm running out of tricks. This cannot go forever…  I must find a place to hide away from the Church. I must not fall… No matter what!"

Christopher muttered to himself with a bitter smile that braced his face. Although he was getting old, but he still had the vigor of youth and the radiance of glory, his eyes glinted with determination, and his body stood strong despite the many scars.

"Friend, let's go."

Christopher muttered as he looked ahead with a smile. However, his smile immediately froze as he saw his long-lost and most loyal companion collapse on the ground, whimpering and groaning.

Christopher gritted his teeth as he sorrowfully approached his friend. Stroking his horse lovingly, a small tear fell from his eye.

Seeing his dear companion groaning in misery, Christopher felt his heart ache as if it was being torn apart.

Christopher closed his eyes and with a quick, decisive, and precise stroke of his longsword, he ended the horse's life as its wails of pain stopped abruptly.

Quickly digging a grave in the nearby soft land, Christopher buried his horse with a saddened expression on his face. Wiping his eyes, Christopher continued on his journey to the west, not looking back as he walked onwards without hesitation.