"Before blaming your vassals, look at yourself first. How can a noble of the North be so sluggish?"
"S-Shut up!"
Fuming at Sylas's mockery, Philip drew his sword clumsily, clearly lacking proper training. Sylas easily parried the blade and struck him in the stomach with the hilt.
Thud.
"Guh!"
With a gasping sound, Philip collapsed to the ground. Sylas grabbed the unconscious Philip by the back of his neck and dragged him out. Although no full-scale battle had erupted, there was still chaos around. Those remaining seemed to be the lord's loyalists.
"Enough! The battle is over! The lord is in our custody!"
"What?!"
"M-My lord!"