"Bang", there was a short, muffled sound, and a stout crossbow bolt screeched through the silent night sky and flew straight ahead.

The wyvern didn't dodge, or didn't have time to dodge at all, the spear-like crossbow bolt pierced its thick skin, penetrated deep into its flesh, and pulled out of its body with a string of blood, and continued to fly forward with huge kinetic energy. It was only a two-legged wyvern, not a four-legged dragon in the orthodox sense of the word, and it could not be compared to a real dragon in terms of size and thickness of scales.

The mercenaries' eyes followed the crossbow arrow into the distance, and immediately pulled their gaze from the crossbow arrow back to the wyvern, only to see that it gradually lost its strength, and slowly floated from the air to the ground, and the mournful cry echoed in the swamp. The arrow was lethal enough, but it didn't kill it.

Everyone was cheering, everyone knew that if they killed this monster, they would receive a huge amount of krona, and they would raise the warband and their own fame to a higher level, and the greater the fame, the more the reward would be in the future.

The mercenaries took up their weapons, they were waiting for the next instructions from the regimental commander, and everyone was in high spirits, as if a cart of krona was in front of them.

With Karl's order, the mercenaries rushed to the roaring wyvern like hungry wolves, and Daemon drew his sword and joined the charging team.

The hungry wolves rushed to the prey and surrounded it, and the prey was not sure whether it was enraged or frightened, and its cry became more and more terrible.

A daring mercenary rushed forward first, raising his axe to prepare for the monster, and before the axe could fall, the mercenary had been torn in half, but no one retreated, they still approached the besieged prey, and everyone was red-eyed. Brave men with a lot of money now they saw it not as a flying dragon, but as a cart of crowns, enough for them to sleep in a brothel for a year, and drink a whole year of wine in a tavern.

Another mercenary rushed forward with all his might, and he ended up in the belly of the wyvern. The trapped beast is still fighting, and this flying dragon ruthlessly harvests the prey that dares to step forward.

"Stand back!" a shout of rage brought the mercenaries back to their senses, and Carl and several mercenaries pushed the ballista to a position where they could shoot the wyvern, and on top of the bed crossbow, another murderous crossbow arrow was ready to fire.

Carl swung the wooden hammer in his hand and smashed the trigger, the whistling sound passed through the ears of the mercenaries, accompanied by a roar, the arrow shot through the wing membrane of the wyvern, directly tearing the wing membrane from the bottom up to the root of the wing, the wyvern waved its wings in despair, but the wing membrane of the right wing was only hanging there.

It couldn't fly, it looked angrily at the small group of humans in front of it, and suddenly, its eyes spotted the bed crossbow that had given it one deadly attack after another, and it seemed to use the only bit of strength left in its body, ignoring the humans on the way, and headed straight for the ballista.

The winch was full again, this time on top of the bed crossbow were three crossbow arrows smaller than the original, and with another muffled sound, the three crossbow arrows pierced deep into the wyvern's body, and its sprinting body only paused slightly, and continued to crawl towards the ballista and Carl.

The mercenaries frantically threw axes, spears, and rope nets at it, but they were still a step too late.

A loud bang was mixed with screams and shouts from the crowd behind it, sawdust and flesh flew everywhere, and the two-legged wyvern used up the last of its strength to deliver its final blow.