Now the situation on the field has become relatively balanced again, neither side has the advantage of riding on horseback, and at the same time, each holding a sword and shield close to each other, ready to fight hand-to-hand.

Of course, if you insist on it, Sir Martin is weaker, after all, after withstanding three or four flail attacks, it is impossible not to be harmed, and looking at his embarrassed appearance, it is likely that he has injured his internal organs.

Sir Hubert was well aware of Sir Martin's situation, and if he wanted to win the duel, he would only need to give him a fatal blow after being exhausted and injured with all his might.

Sir Hubert shook his head secretly, and in an instant the thought was extinguished, and he wanted to give the venerable Sir Martin a duel to the death without regrets.

"Huh... Drink..."

Sir Hubert roared, with his shield in his left hand and his Norman sword in his right, and rushed towards Sir Martin with a quick step.

Bang bang bang ... Clang... Bang... Clang...

Sir Hubert was a complete assault, as if he was dying, and the Norman sword with his right hand raised chased after Sir Martin and slashed several swords, forcing him to defend with his sword and shield in embarrassment, and retreated again and again.

In fact, Sir Hubert did not do this with a disdain for his own life, but because he was very confident in the plate armor he wore under the burqa, and Sir Hubert could not break the defenses of this plate armor before the duel, whether he used a sword, a sword, a halberd, or a longbow, etc., not even a trace was left.

Sir Martin took a few steps back in a staggered manner, and finally steadied himself and stepped forward with his iris shield.

Bang...

Sir Martin's iris shield withstood a Norman slash from Sir Hubert's sword, and then rushed so hard that Sir Hubert could not retract his sword, and stabbed Sir Hubert in the chest with his tense right hand.

Sting... Bite... Whew...

Sir Martin was undoubtedly surprised when his Norman sword in his right hand slashed through his burqa and stabbed him in the chest.

However, the shiny plate armor from behind the burqa and the sparks from the Norman sword cutting through the plate armor made Sir Martin's smile completely freeze, and even his movements slowed down.

Sir Hubert looked at the torn burqa and the exposed plate armor, and was a little glad, and then exasperated at his own negligence, and the Norman sword in his right hand jerked his opponent's sword to the left, and then raised it high and slashed his opponent's sword with great force.

Bite... Bang...

Sir Hubert slammed Sir Martin's Norman sword to the ground with a slash, and then withdrew his sword with his right hand, ready to stab his opponent in the abdomen.

Sir Martin, on the other side, was also a decisive man, taking off his iris shield with his left hand and throwing it at Sir Hubert, or turning around, running a few steps to a large sword stuck in the ground, and drawing his sword with both hands.

Clang... Clang... Bang... Bang... Bite...

Sir Martin, who was wielding a great sword, seemed to be resurrected with full blood, and with his great sword he slashed at Sir Hubert again and again, causing him to retreat in embarrassment.

The disadvantage of holding the sword and shield against the two-handed greatsword was too obvious, and the shield in Sir Hubert's hand was cut off in a large piece in a few strokes, and the Norman sword in his right hand was also unstable, as if it was about to be knocked down at any time.

In the face of the heavy and sharp two-handed greatsword, Sir Hubert did not dare to take it hard, even if he was wearing plate armor, he was not sure whether he could withstand the heavy slash of the opponent's greatsword.

Sir Hubert was not nervous in the face of this danger, for he felt that the attack from the opposite side was getting weaker and weaker, and it was probably that the blunt blow from the previous flail had injured his internal organs, and he could no longer withstand the vigorous movement.

Retreating to the greatsword, Sir Hubert decisively threw the Norman sword and the iris shield at Sir Martin successively, used to block the opponent's pursuit, and pulled out the greatsword with both hands, and swept diagonally upwards at the chasing Sir Martin.

Clang...

Sir Hubert's charged blow unexpectedly missed the slashing greatsword, and the opponent's two-handed greatsword almost held on to it.

The greatsword held high above Sir Martin's head struck him in the back.

Bang... Poof...

Watching Sir Martin vomit blood and fall to the ground, Sir Hubert decisively grabbed this precious fighter, raised his big sword with both hands, and aimed the tip of the sword, Martin is a stab in the back.

Poof...

"Ahh

With the sound of a sword piercing into the flesh and Sir Martin's screams rang out, the duel ended in Sir Hubert's victory and Sir Martin's death.

Rumble...

William, Baron Adolf, Daniel. Bühler, Nelson Knights, and Sir Ronald couldn't help but cheer.

Our generals, knights, soldiers, and civilians also raised their hands and waved their hands in loud cheers for Sir Hubert's victory.

Even the knights on the other side, who were subordinate to Baron Richard, could not help but raise their hands and wave this, cheering.

For a while, the entire arena reverberated with cheers like a sea of cheers.

On the other side, Baron Richard reclined in his seat, his left hand firmly grasping the armrest of the seat, his right hand resting on the armrest and clenching his fist, his chest undulating, his eyes fixed on the bloody Sir Hubert on the field without saying a word.

In the arena, Sir Hubert killed the mighty knight Martin with great difficulty, and his whole strength was scattered, and he couldn't help but get down on one knee and pant loudly.

Amid the cheers, Sir Hubert raised his head to look at Baron Richard on the viewing platform, smiled triumphantly, raised his blood-stained sword in both hands, and shouted: "To whom does Alençon belong?" ”

Baron Richard stared at Sir Hubert, trembling with anger, and said with difficulty, word by word: "Alençon belongs to William..."

Receiving an affirmative reply from Baron Richard, Sir Hubert stood with difficulty with his broadsword in his hands, and to the cheers of the crowd, turned and walked towards William's viewing platform.

Sir Hubert came to William's viewing platform, raised his blood-stained sword in both hands, and said in a loud voice: "God has given me the strength to defeat a strong enemy, Your Highness." ”

"I have never seen anyone so valiant in battle, God is with you, and who can now deny that the Barony of Alençon did not belong to House Normandy? We all owe you a favor, Sir Hubert! William had a smile on his face and praised him without hesitation.

Sir Hubert nodded yes, put his broadsword on the ground with both hands, and turned to leave the arena.

At this moment, on the side of Baron Richard outside the arena, six Upper Burgundian knights wearing white eagle robes and chain mail on a red background climbed over the one-meter-high fence, took out crossbows from behind and rushed towards Sir Hubert, and the leader of them was really the knight Tim who had left earlier.

"Sir Hubert be careful!" William, who was on the viewing platform, reminded loudly as soon as he saw these Upper Burgundian knights appear.

"Daniel, Jeffrey, Nelson, Faller, bring people to help, and be sure to protect Sir Hubert and not let him be harmed."

"Yes, His Highness William."

The four generals jumped off the viewing platform one after another, summoning the knights to rush into the arena together.