Presel Missedo, this is the name of the town of glory, but many Templars don't understand who he belongs to.

During the turbulent times of Formimaure, the head of the palsars, Doyle Gatlin, was called the Pilasters of the Templars.

He is the pillar of faith and spirit of all angelic warriors! Under his command, the palaziers are invincible and invincible. not only suppressed the archangels at that time, but also drove out the demons who did all kinds of evil, becoming the first country in Yunlu to be liberated.

In honor of Doyle Gatling's exploits, Zadoha, a satellite city next to the temple, was renamed Doyle Gatling.

The same is true of another Forlimmere.

But in the world, in addition to these two people, there is another town that is also named after him, and that is Presel Misedo.

Presel Missedo, an ordinary soldier of the Holy Cavalry Regiment, enlisted in the army at the age of twelve, and fought for the Templars for hundreds of years!

He devoted his life to his homeland, a land of war and fire, until the Templar was restored, and he retired from the army before dying in untold agony.

Because of the battle, no part of his body was intact, and the daily pain can be imagined.

However, he didn't give up, and he kept battling the pain in the grove on the north side of the town of glory.

This is the location of his original hometown, but it has been ruthlessly trampled into ruins by the demons!

After Presel's death, Fulimaur and Doyle were inspired by his great life, and the Town of Glory was founded.

The town of glory is the town of glory that belongs to ordinary soldiers! It represents the most ordinary perseverance! Struggle! Unyielding! Iron and blood!

If Daoer City is the faith of all soldiers, then Presel is the destination of the souls of all soldiers!

It is precisely because of this that every Angel Clan warrior is proud to enter Presel after retiring!

In Presel, the most iron-blooded people of the entire angelic clan are gathered!

They are the unyielding backbone of this nation!

So it's not so surprising that they made the decision to live and die with Presel.

In fact, if it weren't for their duties, I'm afraid that all the Templar's troops would have rushed here to surround this humble town.

At this time, Presel has lost the tranquility and laughter of the past.

The haze of the sky is like a smiling grimace, suppressed in everyone's hearts, and the mournful howling wind is even more unscrupulous, destroying patches of land!

The town square in the middle of Presel.

There is a statue of ordinary people in proportion, none other than Presel Missedo, whose grave lies beneath the statue.

As for why the statue is only the size of an ordinary person, this is easy to explain, because Presel is just an ordinary person, and he never wants his figure to be that particularly majestic and tall.

In front of the statue, a simple wooden platform was erected, on which stood an old man with a white beard, who was now wearing a torn piece of armor, and the body of the great sword in his hand had also broken several times.

"Warriors!" said Zihar, holding up a magic trumpet.

Suddenly, the noisy square fell silent.

These old and young faces are all solemn and upright.

"More than a thousand years have passed since Presel's founding! His soul has grown stronger and stronger in the hands of our great forefathers!, but now!" Zihar looked hideous, "someone wants to destroy it! wants to desecrate our souls!"

Smack!

Everyone felt the same way, they clenched their fists, their bodies were bruised, and they looked angry.

"This is the biggest insult for us!" Zihar waved his arms fiercely.

"We are the descendants of warriors! the symbol of the fearless warriors of the Angel Clan! Do you remember the oath we took when we joined the army?"

"Defend the homeland! Defend the temple! Forget your life in battle! Fight without fear of death! Believe in blood! Take bones as seals! Never retreat!"

Everyone replied loudly.

"The enemy is coming, are we going to retreat in disarray, are we going to be deserters?" asked Zihar in a loud voice.

"No! no!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Everyone raised their weapons in their hands, and their faces were filled with a divine light.

"Presel's glory is on us! Everyone else can retreat! We can't! We can only fight to the death!" Zihar slowly lowered his magic horn and said to the ten veterans standing tall below. "Take your own people and arm them according to the plan!"

"Yes!Mayor Mare!" replied in unison.

Zihar stepped down from the stage and walked up to the first veteran, a middle-aged man about forty or fifty years old, with a large scar on his face, which looked hideous and terrifying, and more importantly, he only had one hand!

"Mondot, you are the vanguard. Qihar sorted out the armor for the middle-aged man, and there seemed to be sadness in his eyes.

"Presel, Prime, Templar, Primary, Angel, Victory!" said Mondot, with a puff of heart.

The vanguard means fighting first, and it also means death! Because in the face of this so-called enemy, they are not sure that they will be able to stop it!

"Go ahead, I'll have you a glass of wine to drink as long as I'm alive, and we'll all be with you if Presel isn't there. Qihar said lightly.

"Presel!10,000!10,000!10,000!·"

Shouting loudly, Mondot walked towards the crowd and led a group of younger soldiers to the town gate.

"Dowak, the second column is armed!" Zihar walked over slowly, sorting out the armor and clothing of the veterans, who would guard Presel layer by layer until the end of their lives.

No one will complain, no one will be afraid, they will just run and shout loudly.

Presel!