Beidelin Plain was originally a great place for sightseeing, but at this time the originally clear river water was now stained with blood, corpses were piled up in disorder, black and red were intertwined with the setting sun, illuminating the bloody sewage.
This place has become a battlefield where knights and knight orders wrestle and fight.
Ezequiel Cirigliano was gasping for air. He had just been through a massacre.
That could not be called a battle at all. They clearly had the advantage in terms of numbers of knights and tactics, but the monster from Britain forcibly tore a gap in their ranks. Even though the knights suffered some losses due to the sudden flood, so many people could not even injure the other side.
He thought that the two thousand people escorting food being intercepted and the ten thousand people attacking the city of Bilù being flooded was horrible enough, but this was just the beginning of the nightmare. When the water level decreased a little, a knight in red and white heavy armor was seen. The knight who suddenly appeared started the massacre as soon as he landed.
Even though the other person was wearing a helmet and he couldn't hear anything except his companions' screams, Ezequiel had the feeling that the guy was definitely laughing.
Madman, a complete madman!
From noon to dusk, no matter how many people surrounded him, they could not stop the evil ghost from swinging his sword. Most knights could not even break through the armor on his body. Captain Izkaga's spear pierced the armor, but the wound healed quickly and wiped out everyone's hope.
[Dispersed evacuation]
After a futile resistance, the surviving knight commander issued this order – but this was clearly an escape. Ezequiel swallowed his saliva. Even as an apprentice knight, he felt ashamed of this, not to mention those real knights.
As Ezequiel thought about this, he quickly took off his armor. Wearing these things would only slow down his escape speed.
He didn't dare look back, and ran in the general direction of the north, fearing that he would see the evil ghost that seemed to be asking for his life. But Ezequiel had to stop. The potholes and puddles made Ezequiel's steps slip. His body fell forward like a bad horse, and he crawled on the grass in a very indecent posture, breathing heavily.
His heart was beating violently, but he couldn't help laughing. This violent heartbeat was the proof that he was alive.
"Hey, Ezequiel. Get up and get ready to fight!"
This was the voice of Captain Izkaga. For a moment, Ezequiel thought he was hallucinating because he had obeyed the order and evacuated, and Izkaga should have evacuated in another direction.
Ezequiel looked up and saw Izkaga rushing towards him in panic. This middle-aged man, who usually had a serious face, had no time to maintain his mustache. He shouted to Ezequiel to come over and help.
Ezequiel hesitated. He was knighted because of his connections with Izkaga, so theoretically he shouldn't refuse some small favors.
"There's actually another one."
Ezequiel's pupils shrank. He had not said anything just now, and it was obvious that Izkaga did not have the leisure to say such words. Fear surrounded Ezequiel like a tide, and his body began to go limp.
"Another one? That saves me from having to look for one."
There was no mistake. Even if he only heard it once, he would not remember the monster's voice incorrectly.
A knight wearing a ghost mask walked slowly towards them, carrying an exaggerated sword that was as tall as him in one hand. The undried blood on the sword dripped down the smooth blade. The splashing sound accompanied the heavy footsteps, as if it was the breath of the god of death.
He couldn't even muster the desire to resist. The evil ghost that was approaching him was like a knight of the apocalypse in charge of war from a myth.
In just a blink of an eye, in Ezequiel's sight, Captain Izkaga was caught up by the sword and his head was cut off.
But even though the Death Knight had already devoured countless lives, he still continued to move closer and closer, greedily approaching the next target. Ezequiel struggled to stand up. He reached for his waist, but found nothing – the sword at his waist had been discarded during the escape.
"Wow."
As if he had seen something new, the Death Knight stopped moving forward, his blood-red eyes narrowed under his helmet, and a glimmer of interest flashed in his pupils.
"You actually want to take up a weapon… You are different from those losers." He kicked Izkaga's sword at his feet towards Ezequiel: "Then take up the sword. By the way, are you the commander of this team?"
Ezequiel took the sword and subconsciously looked at the dead head lying on the ground with its eyes open.
"I see."
The voice was neither hurried nor slow, as casual as if he was waiting for the challenger to draw his sword.
There was no direct attack. The opponent was already at the end of his strength. His brain clearly thought so, but Ezequiel's feet had their own ideas. They seemed to be stuck to the ground for a long time and refused to move.
It was unknown how long the stalemate lasted, perhaps only a second or so, but Ezequiel clearly felt his life slipping away.
At this moment, the faint sound of horse hooves came from behind, which made Ezequiel breathe a sigh of relief. Only people who were unaware of the situation would ride a horse at this time – it seemed that the reinforcements escorting food had arrived.
"Looks like I should leave now."
Ezequiel only saw the other party put down the greatsword and slowly took off his helmet. Ezequiel widened his eyes, but those red pupils like the sea of blood in hell occupied his entire field of vision. The other party had his back to the setting sun, and his red pupils were intertwined with the blood-red earth.
"May I have your name."
Ezequiel's lips trembled. Being asked his name by such an important person, he knew it was a good opportunity to make a name for himself. So he resisted the urge to kneel down and whispered in a trembling voice: "Ezequiel… Ezequiel Chirigliano."
"I'll remember you."
Leaving behind an incomprehensible sentence, Ezequiel watched the other party disappear into the sunset. Ezequiel finally knelt down in relief, and he touched his head, seeming to find it incredible that he was not dead.
Whether intentionally or unintentionally, the horseshoes gradually approached until this moment. But by then, the Death Knight had already gone far away.
"What a tragic situation this is."
He heard the knights on horseback commenting like this, and it was indeed true. Of the 800 knights, he didn't know how many would survive.
…
Menachel slowly took off his armor. Although he liked this armor very much, now was not the time to care about it. No matter what others thought, his physical strength had reached its limit in the battle just now.
He had not intended to let the knight go, but the approaching enemy forced Menachel to give up the idea of continuing the fight. After all, the commander had been killed, so letting go of a small soldier was not a big deal.
Without knowing the enemy's strength, this was a rather conservative tactic – Menachel would not have acted this way at first, but his poor physical condition told him that if he did not leave, he would most likely not be able to escape from the siege of a group of knights.
He suddenly thought of the sword he had kicked away just to save face, and he couldn't help regretting it. If the atmosphere had not reached its peak at that time, he would not have done such a stupid thing.
Menachel peeled off the last piece of dragon scale armor and looked expressionlessly at the wound on his body that was slowly healing. His magic power was almost exhausted.
Now is not the time to demonstrate individual combat capabilities, Menachel thought, and now he should go back and inform Sir Ector of the arrival of enemy reinforcements.
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