The rising sun finally broke free from the last shred of the distant mountains and sprinkled its own light all over the land, and a golden light curtain with a hint of red slowly opened in front of Palofodi, leading to a torrent of gray iron wire.

"Who are you waiting for!?"

With a sword smashing through the head of the ogre who had smashed his hammer into him, he roared hysterically and his mouth was splashed with bright red brains and blood, and he looked like a demon.

"Knights of Spartacus, Dead Warriors of Spartacus!" the five hundred knights roared in unison behind him, and the heavy knights' spears were spread out like a forest, piercing the flesh of the enemy or being pierced by the enemy's weapon, and the sound of broken bones and neighing of horses became the accompaniment to the intervals of the war song.

"What do you hold in your hands!?"

Suddenly the man stood up, dodging the mace that swept the horse's belly from the left side, and then he reined in the horse, and the horse's hooves with thick iron claws stomped heavily on the ogre's chest, and the sound of bones cracking began to pass through the air, and a flash of fire flew like a shuttle, and the ogre's head left his body forever.

"The shield that never retreats in the left hand, the spear that tears everything in the right hand!"

The torrent of steel that followed slammed through, trampling the headless corpse of the ogre into a puddle of flesh, and then slammed into the group of ogres in front of them, who were frantically chasing the Terran spearmen.

"Who are you waiting for!?"

Mrak suddenly jumped high from his horse, his chubby body suddenly stretched into a crescent, and with both hands he held the hilt of the Vulcan sword upside down and stabbed the ogre's heart, which had just torn apart a warrior with his bare hands.

"Poof!" the blade sank into his body and the flames skyrocketed, and when he drew his sword and raised it again, he rolled back onto his horse, and the ogre was left with half of its charred corpse still standing in place supported by his stiff thighs.

"The knight of Spartacus!

Nearly a hundred ogres roared and gave up the enemy in front of them and rushed towards the cavalry regiment, maces, maces and even the corpses of warriors turned into strong winds, or smashed the belly of horses or people, the sound of flesh and blood hitting bones and shattering was like an invisible giant hand pinching hundreds of catties of soybeans out of thin air, and a heavy blood mist completely enveloped the knights' rear team in an instant.

A half-human-sized fireball rushed out of Mrak's left hand, followed by a second and a third, until a dozen fireballs joined in front of him to form a huge curtain of light, and all the magic power finally poured and collided in this instant, and then rushed into the ogre group in front of him who were working together to control two huge ballistas facing the knights.

"Boom!" The churning waves of fire instantly submerged all the dozen ogres, and the sound of wood bursting, hinge melting, and burning flesh and blood combined like the Hades directly using a saw to sound a single-string erhu in hell.

The horses crashed into the sea of fire without stopping, and were torn to pieces in an instant by the agonizing and roaring ogres, but then the light that fell from the sky was hotter than all the flames combined.

There is no need for any swordsmanship at all, just the most primitive, brutal and savage slash, Mlak holds the sword in both hands, the muscles of his body are tense, but his mouth lets out a dragon-like roar, slashing horizontally, vertically, horizontally and vertically, the blade and limbs are perfectly fused into a killing feast, and the blood light and the sword light can no longer distinguish each other.

It's like a clumsy clown sitting in the middle of the battlefield and playing a boring game of parabolics, only the ones that are tossed up and down one after another are huge fingers, or simply whole severed arms and legs.

"Why are you waiting for the charge!?"

Standing in the middle of the desert covered in blood, with all his strength uttering a final roar, behind him was the corpse of a fallen ogre and a long path of blood.

"For victory, for death, for Spartacus!"

The rods and hammers wielded by the ogre were an eternal nightmare for any human warrior, and the heavily armored cavalrymen had lost more than 100 people after just one round of collisions, and the rest were scarred.

But even the remaining 300 or so people still let out a furious war cry of no less than 10,000 people, and in front of them, the fangs of the two gray and white beasts were already clearly visible.

"Send you!"

With his sword held high above his head, he knelt on one knee beside the road, his silver-white knee-armor embedded deep in the sand that had begun to burn, like a knight waiting for the king to be canonized, but this time, he was a general being inspected by a warrior.

He was not afraid of death, and even more than anyone else longed to die with the warriors he led, but as a battlefield commander, he had to suppress the urge for glory, because the sacrifice to replace the two ghost beasts was just wishful thinking for now, and if it didn't, there would be more brutal battles waiting for them later.

He had to live.

A pair of eyes reflected the belief of death under the illumination of the gradually warming sun, the gun forest has been paved, the charge has reached the extreme, the line of fire is all ignited, the torrent cannot be quelled, only the most splendid death and the glory of the sun can be worthy of their attitude of charging.

"For Spartacus!"

The head of the first knight's horse crossed Mrak's body like a ray of light, and after the general stopped, he automatically took over the captain's duties, and immediately received a thunderous response from the three hundred companions behind him.

"For Spartacus!"

Then, the torrent of iron wire crashed into the arms of the two ghostly beasts with a thunderous thunder.

A world-destroying light rose from in front of Mrak's body, and the violent air wave generated by the explosion of hundreds of explosive packs directly swept him out, even if he was hundreds of meters away, the moment the shockwave surged still made him feel like he had been bombarded with a heavy hammer in his chest, and a mouthful of blood spurted out immediately.

It was as if a hand had squeezed all his internal organs together, his heart pressed against his lungs, his lungs pressed against his liver, and then his blood vessels and bones squeezed out all the air in his body, making him like a stranded fish unable to breathe.

"Bang!" he landed like a cannonball, the slamming of his back against the sand and slamming through several gaps in his body, the pain of the scorching grit pouring into the back of his neck finally pulling him out of the intense dizziness.

He looked up ahead, where a beautiful mushroom cloud had risen.

The figures of the two ghostly beasts were completely overwhelmed by the flames and loud noises of the explosion, and the extreme heat caused the air in a radius of hundreds of meters at the center of the explosion to distort violently, and the sunlight was lifted into the air by the folded gravel, and there was nothing left there except for the monsters that the rolling flames fused together.

..............