The bandit raised his sword above his head with both hands and slashed at Lear like a tiger, "I've already died once, and I must never die again!" His momentum changed drastically in an instant, and from this moment on, he was truly fully integrated into the fight between life and death, rather than treating his opponent as his own swordstone.

Lear took a firm step forward, his sword stabbing above his head like a bull's horn, and the strong sword body slammed forward, accurately blocking the tip of his opponent's sword, steadily shaking the bandit's long sword. I saw that his long sword seemed to be alive, and with the help of the rebound of the bandit's long sword, it shrank and extended, stabbing his opponent in the face.

This stab of his is integrated into his own will, even if the other party fights for his life, he will not hesitate to stab out, even if he dies, he will not change his moves.

The bandits never expected that a child would have such a strong will, and immediately judged that it was too late to block, and there was no chance of even dying, so he turned his head very simply, turned around, and then fell to the ground and rolled.

But the bandit was wounded, and as he rolled sideways, Lear's sword turned into a stab.

"......Shh

The bandit snorted and stood again, his right arm trembling slightly from the pain. His right shoulder was completely red with blood, and his long wound was like a cracked earth.

"Pray!" After the bandit was on his feet and in a defensive stance, Lear unleashed a powerful thrust - the stabbing was the sword's strongest attack.

The bandits parried repeatedly, and after a few moves, the injury to his shoulder worsened, and his left leg, which had been easily bandaged but fractured, became his biggest burden.

Susan nodded slightly, thinking that Lear would win with a maximum of six moves.

Lear lunged again, and the bandit suddenly roared like a beast, giving up his defenses and rushing forward.

Lear's sword stabbed into the bandit's left chest, and the bandit continued to advance, the sword piercing through his heart. At the same time, the bandit's left hand firmly grasped the hilt of Lear's longsword, and his right hand swung the sword across Lear's head.

The bandits actually used the most difficult to defend and the most fatal "death sword" at this moment.

All this happened too suddenly, and Lear had never encountered such a desperate style of fighting, let alone learned how to deal with it, because learning the sword was too subconsciously to draw the sword to block, but it was useless.

"Hands!" Susan shouted, swinging her heavy sword at the bandits.

In a life-or-death moment, Lear releases the hilt of his sword with his left hand and uses his arm to parry the bandit's sword. With a thought, he used his wrist to resist the blade of the sword—and there were three metal buttons on his cuffs.

The bandit's sword was hit with a metal button.

The bandit's strike was even more powerful than the usual one-handed slash, the sharp sword sliced through the button, and the two-split button also fulfilled its mission - not only weakening the power of the sword, but also deflecting the sword's direction.

A horizontal slash that could have severed Lear's arm was slashed diagonally towards Lear's left arm due to a change in angle.

At the same time as the arm is slashed, Lear's right foot hits the bandit's lower abdomen.

The bandit screamed and fell backwards, Lear drew his sword, and a shocking wound appeared on his left arm, if it had been too late, the bandit's last sword would have taken all the flesh on the outside of his left forearm.

The bandit suddenly screamed, and it turned out that Susan had cut off his right arm.

Lear dropped his sword and clutched the wound on his left arm, his teeth clenched, his mouth hissing and the sharp pain causing cold sweat to break out on his forehead.

Susan immediately turned, grabbed Lear's arm, and skilfully tore his sleeve.

"Huh?" she noticed that Lear's wound was horrible, but it didn't bleed much. She didn't think much of it, skillfully sprinkled the wound medicine and bandaged it.

She picked up Lear's sword, shoved it into his hand, and said, "Kill him!"

Lear endured the pain in his left arm and looked at the bandit with his sword in one hand.

The blood had clotted from the severed right arm of the bandit, and he lay on the ground groaning softly, having lost the ability to fight.

If Susan hadn't reminded him, the result would have been Lear's deathbed with a sword twist that broke the bandit's heart, and the two of them died together, a battle with no winner - if his head hadn't been cut off, the sword might have been able to save him.

Lear felt a flash of frustration in his mind, but then he put those thoughts away. Instead of asking Susan why she wanted to kill with her own hands, he silently walked over and pointed his sword at the bandits.

Although he went through two battles, this was the first time he had to kill with his own hands.

He hesitated.

Not because of guts, not because of morality, but because of reluctance.

He had a feeling that if this sword stabbed down, he would definitely lose something.

However, the next moment the long sword pierced the throat of the bandit accurately and smoothly, and blood splattered everywhere.

Lear watched silently as the bandit twitched until the enemy in front of him turned into a corpse.

"The first killing?

Lear smiled wryly. He had thought that he would have some mental problems after the killing, and that he might vomit, but he found that he was calm, completely devoid of any other emotions - and the smell of blood that could cause vomiting no longer worked on him.

"Are they all dead?, do you know who sent them?" asked Lear Katherine.

Catherine shook her head and said, "More than a dozen people ran." As for who sent it, we still don't know. They may send someone again, and we have to leave immediately. ”

No injured mercenaries were searching for the bodies, but those men had been prepared, and they had not found anything of value except weapons and leather armor. Ninety percent of weapons in a battle will be damaged to varying degrees, and at least twenty percent of them will be completely scrapped, and they must replace them with relatively intact weapons, even if they are the enemy's.

The Flamelight Mercenary Regiment won by a huge margin, but eleven people were still killed in battle, and four were dying and could not be saved, no different from those killed in battle. At the same time, five people were seriously injured and could not walk, and seven people were seriously injured but could barely walk.

Before the war, there were thirty-nine people in the Flame Mercenary Group, but now only nineteen people can continue to escape, and only twelve people are still fighting power.

In order to alleviate the suffering of the four men, Catherine had the lightly wounded mercenaries kill them.

Every mercenary knows that killing a dying brother is not the most cruel, the most cruel is leaving a badly wounded brother to run away.

After a brief discussion, they decided to continue their escape.

They took the enemy's marching rations, changed their weapons, and left the battlefield with the seriously wounded mercenaries, stopping at what seemed to be a safer place two kilometers away. They quickly erected a few tents to set up a makeshift camp, leaving behind most of their rations, and five seriously injured people who were unable to walk and four people who were also seriously injured but able to walk volunteered to stay here and wait for rescue.

"We'll be back!" Catherine led the other fourteen people away with tears in her eyes.

They continued to run, but within a few minutes, Catherine suddenly sweated profusely and her steps went limp, as if a side effect of the berserk potion had set in.

Susan immediately stepped forward to help her, stumbling along the way.

Cruise, the deputy head of the regiment, asked about her situation with concern at first, but after an hour, things changed.

Cruise asked the team to stop and said slowly, "There are no more falcons in the sky, and I see that they know that we don't have the people they want here, so they give up the pursuit." I think we should go back and take our badly injured brother with us to Dieter. ”

Old Thorn glanced at Cruise, then at the weakened Catherine, stopped, and said, "Cruise is right, we should return." ”

There is an eerie scene in the procession, where several mercenaries walk up behind Cruise and Sanker Sr., while Cruise and Thorn Sr. stand side by side - opposite them, Catherine, Susan, Lear, and a young mid-level warrior named Willis.

Willis stood in place at a loss, staring blankly at the suddenly strange procession.