Chapter 67 Cavalry

Although in an inter-regional war, when facing a well-trained legion-type NPC, the strength of one or two hundred players will not affect the overall situation at all. However, in skirmishes at the level of 100 players, especially when strict formations and tactics are not required, the player's elite strength is still quite threatening.

Of course, the defeat of the elite of the Orthodox Cross Diocese led by the Priest of the Holy Word is only a few examples after all, and in fact, the hundred-player level battle between NPCs and players is more dominated by players.

Merlot's eyes were like those of an eagle in a hunt, and his unwavering gaze looked gently ahead, staring at the makeshift stronghold that was gradually making noises. There, the crew, which was more like a supply convoy than an important convoy carrying the Elder-level Blood Clan coffin, suddenly stopped in front of the stronghold.

Soon, they stepped into the makeshift stronghold unhurriedly, and after the soldiers in the stronghold met them, they all began to rest on the spot.

What caught Mei's eyes was the unguarded convoy parked aside, the transport personnel chatting in twos and threes, and the soldiers who seemed to be quite concerned about what was being transported in the supply convoy.

In fact, this qiē seems really quite reasonable.

After all, not only did this convoy not march quickly, but even rested when it was about to enter the Orthodox Cross Diocese, and there was no intention of hurrying to complete the task, as if it was really just a supply convoy.

If other players were to take on this task, they might be really confused about the situation and miss out on the best opportunity for fear of being caught in the dark. But for Merlot, with an NPC Scout veteran, there is no chance that he will be deceived. From the veteran's observations, he knew that this well-camouflaged convoy would not be less numerous than the men behind him when the defenders of the stronghold were added.

At least as far as Merlot's eyes could see, there were conservative estimates of more than 170 people - and that was not counting the possible ambush soldiers hidden in the four transports.

Add to that the small forces that were sweeping around and ready to come to their aid, and Merlot could even imagine how difficult the battle would be.

After all, with the discipline shown by the realm of the undead, a company of nearly two hundred and thirty to forty men would have at least a strong man with the rank of captain. According to the past records of both sides, most of the captains of the realm of the dead are those who have been famous for a long time, and not only are their combat power almost equal to that of the one-star professionals among the players, but their combat experience is far superior to that of the players.

Thinking of this, Merlot couldn't help but fall into deep thought.

The Orthodox Cross Diocese doesn't have any large clubs, so there are definitely a lot more conflicts between the regular player's guild and the professional clubs than the rest of the major regions. Among them, the five most outstanding organizations are three professional clubs and two guilds of ordinary players, except for them, the rest are some small fights, small things that cannot be put on the table, and are not worth mentioning.

And for this mission, Melo gave a lot of price, and specially invited the Sean Bearman Club, which has the second professional of the Orthodox Cross Diocese [Thick Shield Heavy Rider], to help. Although the other party did not let the thick shield heavy rider play, the professional players of the second echelon brought a lot, which made him see the hope of completing this task.

Just the thought of the possibility of facing a strong man with the rank of captain made Merlot uneasy.

You know, although the average combat power of an ordinary soldier is much weaker than that of the player behind him, if you follow the realm of the dead, each team of five is led by a corporal or sergeant, every two to three teams is led by a sergeant, and every two to three squads is led by a warrant officer. Then the combined high-end combat power of the other party is not only not weaker than them in terms of quality, but even a lot more in terms of quantity.

Just as Merlot was caught in the estimation of the combat strength of the two sides, and his brows furrowed tightly, the young man beside him suddenly put the short sword in his hand into the sheath lightly, and the crisp sound of metal grinding was like the sound of a bird's song, the sound was not loud, but it could make people wake up suddenly.

With the young man's nimble head, he knew what Merlot was distressed about. But compared to Melo's worries about the overall situation, he didn't make many guesses because he was excited in anticipation of a fierce battle, and he didn't pay attention to the chaotic whispers of everyone behind him.

In the eyes of young people, if the number alone can determine victory or defeat, then why does he have to practice hard day after day? Isn't he practicing actual combat just to be able to fight and win when he is inferior to the other party?

Otherwise, it's good for everyone to level up brainlessly with those who only know how to level up monsters.

Turning his nose at Merlot's worries, the young man tightened the gray fur that draped over his body, allowing the short, delicate scabbards to hide beneath the fur infused with phantom magic. Then he stood silently behind Merlot, standing as if measured by a ruler, very different from what he thought in his heart, and also from the out-of-the-box character he appeared.

That's the work. The corners of the young man's mouth lifted in self-deprecation, and his hands, hidden under his fur, caressed the carved pattern of the scabbard, and took a small step back, pulling away to the half-meter distance that Merlot had been asking for.

About fifteen minutes passed, and when the team's loose rest and internal rest were really lured, the time for Merlot's expected attack finally came. Watching the convoy slowly move away from the makeshift stronghold, he knew it was the perfect time - because there was no more difficult stronghold between them and the convoy.

At this time, in the map of Merlot's system, the black dot representing the convoy and the white dot representing them are connected at the closest distance.

Finally, with a wave of his hand, Merlot, who had been staring at the convoy, released his majestic steed, which was clad in horse armor, and rode the war horse in a single leap. He took a deep breath, raised the enchanted giant sword carved with tongue-sticking snakes in his hand on horseback, and ordered in a deep voice: "Go!" ”

As Merlot's roar rang out, the earth made a dull noise under the hard hooves of the horses. The heavily armored knights and armoured horses rushed down from the high hills, the earth being swept away by the silver-white torrent of steel, and the dry sand and gravel splashed around like mud, like a wall collapsing, unstoppable.

At this moment, only the dense sound of heavy horses' hooves remained in Merlot's ears, and in front of him were the glittering rugged mountain roads and tall trees, and below him was the old man who was running wildly on his back. Soon, he found it difficult for him to think of his next move—in fact, it was difficult for them to carry out precise orders on horseback, except for savagely charging into the enemy's camp.

"Kill!"

Merlot roared loudly, and with that roar he was unexpectedly happy.

At this time, in front of his eyes, the convoy full of steel had already appeared.