When the impact began, both Rostislav and Svyatoslav's vision suddenly shrank, limited to the front and side, and they could only see a few people around them.
Both Rostislav and Svyatoslav kept an eye on each other, knowing that as long as they took the other's head, the war would be over.
The winner will win everything and the loser will have nothing.
The two have a tacit understanding, and no one disturbs them, and even clears space for them. The Russians have a special liking for fighting alone, especially between warriors and warriors or between leaders and leaders. This is also the poet's point.
The scene that people praise the most is also the scene that everyone likes the most.
Svyatoslav was the first to strike, and his spear pierced the Muscovite prince's chest, the tip of his spear gleaming in the sun.
The thrusting spear could not hurt Rostislav at all. In his eyes, everything seemed to be in slow motion, because he had faced this scene countless times.
With the help of his horse power, Rostislav slashed horizontally with his sword, pressing it with the strength of his whole body, and the tip of the sword cut into the wooden spear shaft.
At first Rostislav wanted to use a spear, but in the end he gave up. He still trusted his sword more than the spear.
The sound of galloping horses' hooves reached Rostislav's ears, which was particularly loud.
The sword in his hand returned to a position parallel to the war horse, the wind blew the helmet decoration, and the Prince of Moscow turned the horse's head, his arms numb from the collision.
Svyatoslav also turned around, raised his hand and threw the spear with the broken shaft to the ground.
"Not bad, nephew, it seems those rumors about you are not all lies."
"You look good, but you're just a little worse than me."
The conversation between the two was very explosive and full of hostility.
Beside them, the most elite people from the North and South armies were fighting brutally, but they all left space for the uncle and nephew to fight. They formed a circle with a tacit understanding to eliminate all possible influences.
outer.
Svyatoslav smiled contemptuously, took out his sword from its scabbard, and charged forward again.
The Grand Duke of Kiev raised his sword and slashed at Rostislav's head, but the Prince of Moscow's long sword was already waiting. The swords collided with each other, making a loud sound of metal friction. The sound of gold and iron was heard endlessly, and then it slid away.
Rostislav slashed at the opponent's reins, but unfortunately Svyatoslav was also an experienced rider, and the gold and iron kept clanging to protect his reins.
The two horses began to spin, the Moscow horse jumped up anxiously, the Kiev horse lowered its head and jumped to the side, Svyatoslav boldly let the horse take the lead, waiting for an opportunity.
Rostislav grabbed the reins and controlled the horse. He felt something was wrong. He was responding completely according to his second uncle's ideas and completely fell into his second uncle's logic!
Svyatoslav charged again, but Rostislav backed his horse to dodge, raising a cloud of dust. The prince struck down with his sword, but was blocked by the prince's sword.
Rostislav felt the power of this blow all over his body, and sparks seemed to fly between the swords.
Rostislav counterattacked fiercely, and the sword blade kept flying in the air, breaking through the opponent's defense. He slashed Sviatoslav's armor several times, causing them to crack, which once made the second uncle tired of dealing with it.
After a short but fierce fight, Svyatoslav finally seized the opportunity to counterattack. The Grand Duke of Kiev raised his sword and stabbed him. The tip of the sword pierced the ring protecting the waist of the Moscow Prince, scratched the inner armor, and touched the Prince's chest.
Body.
The prince of Moscow groaned, and severe pain hit him, but it made him more awake.
In this flash of lightning, when the opponent's sword was still on the hard metal, Rostislav swung his sword and cut off Svyatoslav's reins, causing him to lose the balance on his horse and almost fall down.
But Svyatoslav was an experienced cavalry officer after all. He used his legs to control the unbridled horse, regained his balance, and blocked Rostislav's sword just a few inches away from his face.
The two men then separated. When they separated, the prince gave the prince's horse a sword, which almost caused the horse to knock Rostislav off, but Rostislav still controlled the horse.
"My nephew, you are really extraordinary."
Svyatoslav gritted his teeth and said that the boy's chop almost caused him to overturn his car. As he spoke, he dismounted.
Rostislav, on the other hand, dismounted silently. The horse was seriously injured and would definitely be useless in such a duel between masters.
His expression was not pretty, because there was severe pain in his waist. Damn it, the armor didn't hold it up. Vanigo was blowing so hard, but his crotch was strained at the critical moment.
They then faced each other like this, neither of them moving. To be more precise, they were waiting for movement from the other side.
The prince of Moscow looked around from the corner of his eye. Many soldiers had stopped fighting and were watching the duel between the two men intently. Nothing could attract the attention of the soldiers more than the duel between the leaders, and the future of the battle was also here.
The Prince of Moscow stepped forward, his boots sagging slightly on the soft soil. His equipment was the most standard northern warrior suit, with a long sword and a round shield.
Svyatoslav was much wilder. He found an ax from somewhere. He walked towards Rostislav with a sword in one hand and an ax in the other.
The Grand Duke of Kiev moved cautiously, his sword and ax constantly changing positions. Rostislav held his shield in front of him, and his long sword was behind the shield.
"Saint Simon!"
Svyatoslav attacked Rostislav's head with extremely fast movement and a tricky angle. The Prince of Moscow raised his shield to block. The second uncle's strength was surprisingly strong, but he could still withstand it.
The thrusts came to his shield like a violent storm. The dull sound of the sword tip and blade hitting the shield was like a drum beat. From time to time, axes would strike from tricky angles, stimulating
Rostislav's nerves.
Every time Svyatoslav hits the shield, a small amount of sawdust will be stirred up. Under this attack frequency, the sawdust suddenly increases. This looks quite scary. Rostislav is temporarily attracted by this.
deterred.
The opponent made two powerful thrusts in succession, knocking back Rostislav's sword, and then swept the sword tip upwards. The Prince of Moscow shook his head back, and the blade barely missed his chin, and he was almost finished.
The Grand Duke of Kiev desperately counterattacked, using all his strength to make Rostislav retreat continuously to avoid the continuous attacks.
"Nephew, you are very powerful, but this is the end. Victory must belong to me."
Svyatoslav threw the ax, and Rostislav's shield completely cracked after withstanding the blow. The Prince of Moscow dropped the shield and held the sword with both hands like the other man.
"Second uncle, the battle has not ended yet. Who knows what will happen next. You had to be so sneaky when you killed my father. Now that you are facing me, you will definitely fail."
At this moment, Rostislav didn't need to worry about anything and just said what shouldn't be said.
"Hmph, I should have killed you and your father back then. It was all because of my soft-heartedness that I ended up with everything I have today. But now I can correct this mistake."
Svyatoslav was quite emotional, but he could put an end to that mistake while he was here! All this should not have developed like this, Rostislav was a superfluous existence, he must die!
Rostislav ran towards his second uncle. This time he launched the attack first, and his second uncle also came up to him. The moment the swords clashed, the two sides looked at each other, and they both saw the hatred and fighting spirit in each other's eyes.
A burst of arrows fell towards them. They didn't know which side fired it, but they treated everyone equally. No matter they were the Southern Army or the Northern Army, there was only one way to die under the rain of arrows.
As for the two princes, they were protected by fine helmets and armor. The arrows either bounced off or hung on the armor, and the Moscow prince decided to seize this opportunity.
Rostislav broke the deadlock, suddenly withdrew his sword, and then slashed at the opponent's leg. He did not break or destroy the armor there, just to influence the enemy.
This obviously caught Sviatoslav off guard, and the Grand Duke of Kiev stepped back to avoid the prince's attack. However, the Prince of Moscow walked in a circle. When the Grand Duke of Kiev dodged towards the gap, he seized the opportunity to meet him, and drew his long sword horizontally.
A flat arc.
The Grand Duke of Kiev reacted quickly and blocked the blade. He felt a little bad. Why did he become the passive one?
The blades of the swords touched and rubbed against each other, and the two struggled with each other again. Rostislav asked the other to retreat, but they struggled together and refused to give in to each other.
Suddenly, Svyatoslav hit his nephew with his head. The impact was so severe that Rostislav's helmet tilted and he stumbled back a few steps. He did not expect that his second uncle would use this trick.
Rostislav held on to hold his sword to defend himself, but the blood flowing from his head blurred his eyes, making him extremely uncomfortable, but he had to open them.
Under blurry vision, Rostislav tried to avoid the opponent's attack. Now he relied entirely on hearing and perception to dodge the attack.
The sword struck quickly and struck the Prince of Moscow's armor. The overloaded lock ring made a cracking sound. Rostislav felt cold metal piercing his body, and the sharp pain hit him again, like a wave.
He blinked hard, finally getting rid of the blood in his eyes, and his vision became clearer. He saw a winner's smile on his opponent's face, as if he had become the lord of all Russia. He wanted to turn away the knife that struck Rostislav on the shoulder.
The sword was on, but the metal locking ring prevented it from turning.
"Great fight, uncle! But the next round belongs to me!"
The Prince of Moscow showed a ferocious expression, swung the sword in his right hand in front of him, and cut off his second uncle's head with one strike. This sword put all Rostislav's strength into it, and cut off the neck guard without any hanging chain.
The head fell to the grass and bounced up, with the joy of victory still on his face, and finally fell into the blood-stained flowers. Sviatoslav fell just like this at the moment of victory in his eyes.
Thick blood spurted out from the broken neck and splashed all over Rostislav, turning the Prince of Moscow into a bloody man. However, he did not complain at all, only joy.
Rostislav pushed the corpse away and let it fall to the ground, letting out a sigh of relief. At the same time, sharp pain came from the shoulder where he wielded the sword, and the pain was conveyed to the prince along with the other shoulder that was cut into.
"I! am the winner!"
After enduring all this, Rostislav, bathed in blood, stood up and held up the long sword that killed his relatives. Everything he did now was in line with an ancient saying - bathed in blood and fire, the winner is king.
Then he took off his helmet as if to vent, and then fell heavily to the ground, gasping for air. Everyone saw the blood all over his body.
At this moment, this made Rostislav even more powerful.
The flying head caused another round of melee, and those who were watching the battle now started fighting each other.
Rostislav, on the other hand, was protected by his followers, who formed an iron wall-like defense line in front of Rostislav, protecting their master behind.
Sviatoslav's soldiers wanted to snatch the master's head, but in the end it was Rostislav's personal captain Vasily who snatched the head and dedicated it to the victor standing on the earth, while the Grand Public Formation was witnessed nearby.
All the Confederate troops were running away.
"Svyatoslav, did you die like this?"
Rostislav looked at the head, then at the headless body of his second uncle, and realized that he had become the winner.
"Nothing can be more convincing than putting his head on a spear. I, Rostislav Vladimirovich, am the winner! Lord of all Russia!"
In response to Rostislav's words, the surrounding Northern troops cheered and shouted to their prince.
Amid such cheers, his followers found a super-long spear from somewhere, and Vasily hung the head of Sviatoslav Yaroslavich on it.
And with Sviatoslav's head hanging on a spear, the war was considered to have come to an end.
As for Rostislav, as the fighting passion brought by adrenaline dissipated, the prince of Moscow suddenly felt severe pain. He staggered and almost fell down before everyone else.
Vasily supported the prince with quick eyes and hands. He had noticed the prince's wounds a long time ago. He was just about to persuade Rostislav to bandage the wounds, but he did not expect that the prince fell first.
Taking out the small medical bag he carried with him - this was made by the Persian doctor in Moscow, which contained all emergency medicines for war injuries - Vasily began to apply medicine and bandage to Rostislav. Rostislav did not say anything, but just let it go.
Played by Vasily.
Since it was only a very rudimentary process, Vasily only worked for a while.
Rostislav also stood up with help. His followers also ordered him to find a horse. Rostislav endured the pain and climbed up.
Although Svyatoslav has been crowned, the Southern Army has not completely collapsed. Only when the Southern Army completely collapses can Rostislav leave the battlefield with peace of mind and go to the rear to treat his injuries.
As for now, he wants to show his best side to the army, so that all the soldiers of the Northern Army can see him! See his great victory!