Pillars of magical light drifted through the atmosphere, and Achill opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but her moist voice couldn't utter a normal word anyway.

There is no sword light, no pain. By the time Achill realized what had happened, his life was in its final moments.

Unable to leave a last word, the marquee did not flash in front of his eyes, and even the regrets of the past could not be recalled, death had quietly embraced him.

The fleeting sword slashed off Archer's right shoulder in a thoughtless thought, and the thick armor was as weak as cream and didn't even make the sound of metal clashing.

With just one sword, even Achill's soul was cut into two sections.

Archer fell, Qi Wuce happily looked at the magic sword suspended beside him, this time he was able to survive all thanks to this magic sword.

Fragarach, also known as Ansara the Sword of Response, is the weapon of the Lord of the Danu Clan on the Irish side, with the ability to automatically seek out enemies and kill enemies, and make it impossible to lie.

As the mana in his body was drained, coupled with the heavy injuries left by the previous battle with Achill, Qi Wuru lay on the ground and gasped hard.

Having lost the supply of mana, Vlagrad reverted to the same lead-colored orb he had when he had obtained it in the Ullens Vault.

It was probably before his reincarnation that he had made some arrangements on the magic sword, so from the moment he touched the lead-colored orb in the treasure house, he knew the secret.

Getting up from the ground with difficulty, spitting out the fishy blood in his mouth, Qi Wuce began to diagnose his own injuries.

Two ribs were broken, internal organs were also hit a lot, and the wound on the chest that had been cut open by Archer was fine, but the worst thing was the fracture of the lower leg of the left leg.

In short, without a car, he didn't think he would be able to survive the group of soldiers who came to support Achill.

His eyes searched around for something, and if he remembered correctly, the knight named Archill seemed to have a good warhorse.

Soon, Qi Wuce found the war horse that had been hiding on the side from the beginning of the battle.

Walking towards the war horse, when passing by Achill's corpse, Qi Wuce easily put the long sword that looked pretty good in his hand, and relying on the support of the long sword, Qi Wuce used the only strength in his body to limp in front of the war horse step by step.

“mannradeh。”

The broken body barely drew a little magic power from the Great Source, and Qi Wuce used his last strength to carve the spell composed of several runes on the forehead of the scaly warhorse.

"That's pretty much it."

Stroking the fierce look before, the current scale-armored war horse is aligned and helpless, but it is much more harmonious.

Turning over the horse with difficulty, Qi Wuce was not sure if his current body could support such a bumpy activity as riding a war horse, but in order to survive, he could only be a dead horse and a live horse doctor.

Wrapping the reins around his hands, and tying his legs with the rope in the saddle, and taking measures to prevent himself from falling off the horse after falling unconscious, Qi Wuce whipped the horse's buttocks with a horsewhip.

After bidding farewell to the villagers, Artoria grabbed a wild horse on the road and drove all the way to Gore.

However, when she saw the ruined and ruined Stoke City, Artoria had to stop out of kindness.

Walking into the city, Artoria was a little depressed by the ruins of the looting, this was the land where she had lived, and when she returned here again, she had the power to change everything, but she was helpless to watch it all because of all the restrictions.

"Is it the Saxon army, please?"

Finding the remaining soldiers, Artoria inquired for information.

"Saxons? Hum! What other than the miscellaneous things would the king of Britain do these damned things? ”

The disheartened soldier answered Artoria's question in frustration and hatred.

"Sure enough, it's the Saxons. But do you know where those guys are going after they withdraw? ”

It wasn't until Artoria had asked such a question that the soldier looked up in a gloomy mood and looked at the visitor who was asking him a question.

"Is it a knight? Which king's support has arrived? It's a pity that it's too late to say anything. ”

Looking at the passive soldier, Artoria said nothing. Revenge or Stop? She couldn't make any promises to the soldier until she figured out the upper limit of that limit.

"If you're going to lead your troops in pursuit, Knight, go south, for the Saxon army seems to have been diverted by a spy."

"That's all I know, I'm sorry, I'm a little tired."

After saying these last words, the soldier lowered his head again, the destruction of his hometown and the death of his friends were all mixed in this bad day, and it was his last effort to be able to barely cheer up after this painful blow.

Artoria did not continue to disturb the soldier's depression, she had seen so many of these things in the past, and each time she could not bear it, but she could not do anything about what had happened.

Obviously, as long as you arrive at the right place at the right time and choose the right king again, can't everything end easily? Why send her to ten years before the day of the king's election, and once again make her feel the pain of powerlessness in Britain?

Tormented in her heart, Artoria even had some resentment in her heart for Qi Wuce, who had sent her to this era ten years in advance.

But could the election of a king really change the tragic end of Britain's demise?

A thought that frightened Artoria came to mind.

No! If it's Gao Wenqing or Lancelot... Or Sotfest...... The valiant and resourceful knights of the Knights of the Round Table must have a better king than her!

With such an excuse to prevaricate herself, even Artoria herself did not realize that there were still doubts in her heart.

Seemingly infected by the soldier's emotions, Artoria walked out of the ruined city of Stoke in a state of depression.

"Now there's more important things to do."

Setting a short-term goal to make herself less confused, Artoria erupted with the terrifying speed of the Heroic Spirit.

The air was pulled by the blue-and-white figure's running motion with one deafening detonation after another, and at a speed that the human eye could not capture, Artoria rushed south.