"Ah~ I'm tired!" Oda Nobunaga let out a long sigh at the head of the castle to the west, lowering his already sore arms.

It was not easy to control three thousand muskets, both in terms of operational difficulty and in terms of mana consumption, it was a huge loss, and after half an hour of fire catharsis, she finally stopped suppressing the fire.

"Hmph~ Isn't this going to work? You're still much worse, nobu!" said Okita Soji on the side, excitedly, if there was no bloodshot on the corner of his mouth, it would probably be more convincing.

"What nonsense are you talking about, I've killed more beasts than you, okay! It's Saber, but it's the same as Assassin, and Saber doesn't even have a light cannon, is Saber considered Saber?"

Miss Okita, who was poked at the pain point by Nobunaga, was instantly petrified, obviously she was the Saber who was known as the strongest rank, except for the agility in A+, the other data were below the C level, and there were even two E-level attributes, it would not be too much to say that it was a shame for Saber, and there was no iconic Saber light cannon.

"Goo!" Miss Okita, who was frail, also spat out a mouthful of blood, and not only that, but her heart was also bleeding.

With Oda Nobunaga stopping, the suppression of the three thousand muskets also ended, and after losing this powerful fire suppression, the beast began to move again, on the one hand, counterattacking the soldiers who surrounded them on both sides, and on the other hand, many centaurs with long-range attack methods began to shoot at the servants in the sky.

Astolfo dodged and fired his horn at the same time, but as time passed, the horn became less and less powerful.

"Ah~ It's almost time, and the mana consumption is about the same, exchange!

She also felt tired, waving her little hand, controlling the phantom horse under her to fly towards the city, exchanging with the next wave of servants who resisted the beast tide.

The soldiers who were flanking the beasts on both sides also began to get rid of them because of the loss of the assistance of fire suppression, but they were themselves soldiers from the blood pool, so even if they were lost, it was not worth a pity.

At the same time as Astolfo returned to the city, the alternate servants also rushed into the battlefield, first the old and strong criminal Moriarty shook the huge white coffin in his hand and rushed directly into the herd.

"It's time for punishment, it's wonderful!"

The flicking white coffin knocked several of the beasts around it into the air as Moriarty rushed into the herd, but this was not his final attack stance, but it was only done in passing.

Then, like a nimble monkey, Moriarty jumped around in the herd, and the ferocious beast could not catch the fifty-year-old, but Moriarty seemed to be in his own paradise, moving freely and unrestrained.

At the same time, the white coffin unfolded, revealing several muzzles inside, and the next moment the gunfire came out like a torrential rain, compared to Nobunaga's three thousand muskets, Moriarty's weapon was strengthened to the maximum extent in the firepower of the single body, and the exaggerated barrage instantly pierced a distance from the center of the beast tide.

The sound of rapid explosions and the howls of beasts mixed in with them erupted across the battlefield.

The beast's attention was drawn to the nimble criminal, and it gathered towards the center of the herd, but before they could surround it, the green light flashing from the city's head blasted a wasteland through the herd.

"Blasted-tree"

Fierce green lightning blasted out from Frankenstein's lightning hammer, and although it seemed to be a little less powerful than Moriarty's weapons, considering the upper limit of what the android's own body could bear, such power was the maximum power she could maintain in continuous combat.

Of course, there must be more than just two of them who exchanged, but compared to the enthusiasm of Moriarty and Frankenstein, the remaining few are much more lazy.

"Well, this is really a good stage, but as an actor, a little too impatient, excellent drama can only be made after the tempering of time, and it is not good to be too impatient. Shakespeare, dressed in a green gown, made a dramatic assessment of the scene in front of him.

But for him, his life is more dramatic than the story he creates.

"But impatience is part of the story, isn't it? And there's no room for leisure. The diminutive writer next to Shakespeare made a different assessment, although he was not even 1.5 meters tall, but the stories he created were not at all famous for Shakespeare's plays.

Danish fairy tale writer, Hans Christian Andersen.

"Well, it's really interesting, in the desperate city, surrounded by ten thousand beasts, human beings are still making the last resistance, although it is a very traditional story, but there is still no lack of interesting elements, especially the characters that exist here. As he spoke, Shakespeare's mood was already high and he began to dance.

The two writers are so obsessed with exchanging stories and expressing their emotions that they should have been dealing with the beast indefinitely, like a writer who keeps leaving his manuscript on deadline date.

If no one interrupts the nature of the two of them, then the conversation will continue to loop indefinitely, and fortunately someone does.

"Now, I said, Mom, can I cut them? It's fine, right?" The little girl with two short knives crouched at the head of the city, looking at the beasts below, her eyes glinting.

"Ah, Jack, please don't make me repeat it too many times, no matter what the concept of the story, you should call me dad at the very least, at least the gender difference can't be easily mistaken. Shakespeare was obviously in a trance by the sound of his mother, so he deliberately corrected Jack's name.

"Well, I see, Mom!"

"Uh......" Shakespeare smiled wryly, and on the other side, Hans Christian Andersen was entangled by another young daughter.

"I'm going to protest to you! Why do you want to write a trick like The Little Mermaid! That's not a fairy tale at all!" the little girl in the purple dress took Hans Christian Andersen's hand and protested loudly.

Compared with the situation on the battlefield, as a collection of picture books such as fairy tales, she cares more about the authors who have created a large number of fairy tales, and expresses strong protests against the stories she doesn't like.

"Even if you tell me that, it's already a book published by a publishing house, and it's impossible to revise it. Hans Christian Andersen sighed, he was unmarried all his life, naturally he didn't know how to take care of children, although nursery rhymes are not strictly considered [human], but no matter how you think about it, she can only be treated as a child.

In the same way, Shakespeare is the same, maybe the two are very good at creating stories, but in the face of innocent children, there is no way at all.

"Hey, Jack, and nursery rhymes, it's time for battle, don't mess around. "Fortunately, not all children are so difficult, and the best way to deal with them is to let them deal with them.

The girl in a small Santa Claus costume with a black gun stood up and reprimanded the two little girls in an adult tone, but her immature voice had no majesty at all, just like a child quarreling.

"Then again, what is her name, I think it must be a long, complicated name. Shakespeare tilted his head and recalled, the string of names that sounded like short sentences.

Joan of Arc Dalk Alter, Christmas, lily, well, a tasteless name, just a mixture of all its own characteristics, nothing literary to speak of. ”