From the command platform, several heavily armed Thracian knights were guarding the Duke of Pituz, hurriedly retreating back. The Duke's staff, the mighty magician, retreated to the corner of the podium, wand in hand, chanting incantations, a powerful spell being prepared, ready to be launched.

Brev rushed towards the podium.

The horses carrying the knights on their backs swept past him, and the cavalry that followed him had already caught up.

They rushed to the podium, but were struck by magic, and the men and horses fell.

But a new knight rushed forward and fought with the Thracian knights.

After several obstacles, there were very few knights who could rush here, and each of them was highly skilled, even if they were the most elite masters of the Pitutz family, they would not have any advantage when facing them.

Molai's high-end force is not as good as Thrace, but at this quasi-high-end level, when it comes to small-scale confrontations, they do not suffer.

Brev rushed to the podium.

In front of him was a battlefield of fierce fighting. Seeing that the comrades-in-arms who were only one step away from victory, and the Thracian masters who had to protect the commander no matter what, were fighting at all costs.

They had already thrown the knowledge of swordsmanship they usually learned out of the clouds, completely ignoring the problem of defense, just staring, opening their mouths, and slashing fiercely while letting out a senseless roar.

As long as you can knock the enemy down, it doesn't matter if you die here!

In the chaos, Brev saw the middle-aged man standing not far away at a glance.

He was dressed in black ceremonial armor that resembled the emblem of the Pitutz family, wore a fine helmet, and held a broad sword, both armor and weapons shimmered with magic, and was obviously not a simple ornament.

He was standing there, quietly watching himself.

Brev subconsciously slowed down, stopped running, just walked briskly. Use this rhythm of training for an unknown number of times to regain some physical strength as much as possible.

He held the sword in both hands, rested the long sword against his chest, and assumed a ceremonial pose.

The Duke of Piduz did not escape, he knew that he could not escape.

"It's great to see a new generation of big names coming up. He smiled and whispered, "It's just a pity...... Not us Thracians. ”

Brev quickened his pace and rushed towards him.

The Duke of Piduz took a deep breath and picked up his pace.

The two swords collided heavily, and the two figures collided violently, then separated.

In less than a fraction of the time, almost at the same time, the two men turned around and swung their swords again.

There was another violent clash of weapons.

Cracks appeared on the two magic swords, and such a violent impact was beyond the limits that the magic swords could withstand.

But neither side cared at all and swung their swords again.

After a few hits, Breve's slightly narrower sword first became unsupportable, breaking after a collision. Duke Pitutz's broadsword swung at him and slashed at his armor, causing the sword to slash through the armor, leaving a deep wound in his chest and blood gushing out.

But Brev, who was preoccupied, felt no pain at all, drew the dagger he was wearing, and continued to charge towards the Duke of Pituz.

The Duke of Pituz raised his broad, two-handed greatsword and wanted to take advantage of the length of his weapon to kill his opponent before he could rush in front of him.

But at this moment, the last Molai cavalry to break through the Thracian army rushed to the command platform.

He and his horse were covered in wounds, and even a severed halberd pierced his chest. The pain made his expression hideous, and it also squeezed out the last of his strength.

Before he fell, he threw his sword, and the magic sword flew to Brev's side with the last of his master's fighting spirit.

Brev subconsciously threw down the dagger and grasped the sword.

Because of this action, his steps were a little slower, and when Duke Pitutz's two-handed broadsword slashed down, he had not yet entered the range of the broadsword.

Then, the sword, which had just left its master, with a blue-white electric light, pierced the air, seized the Duke of Pitutz's flaws, pierced his neck, and pierced his throat.

Duke Pituz's movements froze, and he looked at Brev in a daze, as if he did not believe that he could die like this.

A second or two later, a sigh sounded in his throat, the light in his eyes dissipated, and he collapsed.

At this moment, it was stored in the Pydoutz family, in the Thracian court, in the front-line barracks...... Many power-ups burst at the same time.

Everyone who saw this scene was shocked and discolored and couldn't believe their eyes.

That means...... The patriarch of the Pitutz family, without a smooth handover of the inheritance, died suddenly.

The officers of the Pydouts family were the most shocked in the barracks, and they were terrified, overwhelmed, and trembling with it.

Breve gasped violently, rushed to the center of the podium, swung his sword, and cut the rope that tied the Bidutz family flag.

The mountain banner fell with the broken rope and fell to the bloodied podium.

The Thracian army, which had already reached its limit, finally collapsed completely.

The morale of the left and right armies was completely broken, and the nobles shouted desperately, rode their horses, and rushed towards the back door of the barracks, still shouting for their guards to protect them.

The mage group is the fastest, and the casters never use themselves as pawns, and in this unfavorable situation, their first choice is to retreat - or rather, escape.

The soldiers of the Pitucz Regiment had finally lost their courage, and they hastily retreated, led by the remaining officers, unable to form the mountain-like formation they had formed in the past.

If it weren't for the sudden explosion of the synthesized beasts that had just burst into powerful combat power and turned into pools of blood, perhaps most of them would not have been able to escape.

And even if the Synthetic Beast Legion finally ended its madness and self-destructed, giving them one last chance to escape, in this chaotic situation, there were only a few people who could really escape smoothly.

Many Thracian soldiers and officers from the nobility threw down their weapons in despair, raised their hands in a gesture of surrender.

Even the world-famous mountain legions have been defeated, what else do they have to say? What else is there to fight?

In the midst of the chaos, Brev clasped his hands to his chest, trying to relieve the pain a little with such movements. He staggered to the edge of the command platform, and raised his sword to the soldiers of the Molai Army who were approaching after finally knocking down his opponent, who were also covered in blood.

This sword, which has just killed a generation of famous generals in the Western Continent, will also achieve a new generation of famous generals.