The sun is like fire, and the desert is like a huge furnace, and the contents of this furnace are boiling.

It is people who boil, it is blood, it is killing.

Blood had turned the desert from a dry, golden yellow to a red. The heat steamed the corpses and blood on the ground, and the stench in the air was so strong that it was like swallowing a spicy mass of flesh and blood with every breath. But no one cared about that, everyone was swallowing the breath as much as they could, screaming, screaming, and slashing each other like crazy. The fight between any natural enemies in nature is far less devastating and tragic than the cannibalism of human beings.

The nomads were uniformly clothed and robed, riding tall horses, without any armor on their bodies, but in the face of the heavily armed swordsmen, no one flinched and hesitated, the long sword stabbed, and when it slashed into their bodies, the scimitar in their hands was also aimed at the gap in the armor on the swordsman's body, and the face was heavily slashed, stabbed, poked, and used all means to leave as many wounds as possible on the opponent's **.

The other half are warriors riding wild boars, and these are another nomadic tribe on the edge of the desert.

Under the army of Celeste, these tribes had to huddle together. The boar warriors were desperately trying to contain the cavalry, and although the corpses of the boars and warriors were scattered everywhere under the onslaught of heavy armor and cavalry spears, and they had little effective resistance from their poor equipment, they still did not flinch. But no matter how brave they were, the gap in equipment and numbers was irreparable, and the Church forces were gradually gaining the upper hand.

"Allah above, the forces of the evil Celeste have the upper hand, so Prophet, you should retreat first. "More than half of the guard's Golden Horde Swordsmen have fallen, and the remaining ones are already covered in blood. As the spiritual leader of the tribe, the Prophet was not supposed to be at the forefront of this battlefield.

The Prophet was a middle-aged man with black hair and black beard, and his azure robe of the stars and moon forced his way to the front of the battlefield under the protection of the swordsmen.

Celeste, who was supposed to be in a confrontation with Ofu, suddenly turned around and concentrated his unprecedented forces on the alliance of nomadic tribes in the southern desert. In just a few days, the desert that originally belonged to the tribe has been conquered. This is the last battle. All the nomadic warriors have risked their lives. For their Allah and for the homeland in the rear.

The dense wind burst into the air, and the two Golden Horn swordsmen jumped up to block the Prophet and a few other companions.

There was a heavy rain on the plantain leaves, and the next second, the two knife hands fell down like countless bamboo sticks and then crumpled into a ball of banana leaves, and the excessive crossbow arrows shot their bodies almost rotten. Under the simultaneous fire of hundreds of crossbowmen, it is impossible to completely preserve even the shape of this person, not to mention life. This is clearly a sniping attack on the Prophet as a spiritual leader.

"Where else can we escape? Behind it is the base camp of the Clan Alliance, even if we can escape. The tens of thousands of old, weak, women and children of the tribe could not escape. The voice of the Prophet had a grandeur disproportionate to his age and reached the ears of all the nomadic warriors. "Maybe Celeste won't kill them. But it will force them to rebel against Allah and believe in their evil God. This is a more wicked way than killing them, betraying the Allah, and the soul can only be tormented forever in hell, fighting for Allah and dying, Allah can be seen in heaven......"

With the voice of the prophet, the morale of the nomads was even higher, as if they had gone mad. They already had no means of defense, and they didn't care about themselves at all, using all the means they could to even bump, twist, and bite with their bodies.

Allah can see the bravery of the warriors. To be able to bless them......" The Prophet stretched his arms wide and a blue light lit up on him. And then almost all nomads had the same light on their bodies.

The priests behind the swordsmen had always been in charge of support and medical treatment, but now, all of them hurriedly turned to purification techniques to dispel the light from the nomads. That's the effect of the blessing technique, and this is not a too advanced auxiliary spell, but it has been used on these thousands of troops, and the effect is no worse than any ** technique. The nomads, who were already at a disadvantage, began to stabilize their positions.

Suddenly, a horse from the array of knights who were pinned down on the other side stood out and rushed towards the prophet.

The steel spear in his hand was like thunder. The few wild hunters who tried to stop him were all picked up by him with a single shot, and a company with hundreds of pounds of wild hunting flew out.

"Stop him. The Golden Horde swordsman shouted, and several nomads rushed over.

There was a muffled bang. A pillar of white light lit up on the knight's body, and the knight didn't even pause, and used this momentum to directly knock several nomads to pieces.

"It's a Templar!"

Under the white glow of magic, it was the Templar Knight who opened the Celestial Blessing's glorious armor. This time it wasn't a few, but a large group of nomads rushed over.

The Templar had already broken out of the group, and a single rider with a white light rushed out of the battlefield in a bloody way, and no nomad warrior could resist under the knight's spear, and with each shot, a sweep, a stab, a warrior flew up, or was swept in two by the spear.

But as the knights continued to rush in, the nomadic warriors gathered more and more, and his forward momentum finally slowed down. With a clear roar, the knight actually abandoned his horse and jumped up, and stepped on the body of a nomadic warrior.

With a click, the nomad's body tilted in a strange position like an overwhelmed shelf, and the Templar took off to the Prophet with the help of his strength. Dozens of scimitars were thrown at him with a fierce wind, but the Templars didn't pay any attention to them, and with a clang, they all bounced off with the incredible protection of the Radiant Armor.

The Prophet let out a roar, and a fireball rolled towards the knight in midair. The knight also threw his steel spear.

The knight's spear, full of fighting spirit and white magic, roared angrily, and the fireball technique was gently dispersed like a cloud of smoke, and the spear did not lose its momentum in the slightest, and it thundered straight towards the prophet.

A golden tent knife stood in front of the prophet, a meter long and a foot wide, like a large knife with a small door wrench, rising straight up. But with a bang, the knife shattered into pieces and flew up with flesh and blood, and the door-like knife and tower-like body looked like cotton and paper wrenchs under the shot.

However, at this point, a golden horde swordsman took the opportunity to pull the prophet away, and the knight's spear pierced through the warriors behind without stopping. Then, the three Golden Horde swordsmen swung their broadswords and headed for the fallen Templars.

The Templar didn't dodge or let go, and he couldn't dodge as he fell, and the big sword slashed at the glorious armor with a loud sound like a bell. Being able to cut an oncoming galloping horse in two pieces from head to tail is the most basic requirement to become a Golden Horde swordman, and the broadswords used by these swordmen are even heavier and heavier than the dwarven axes.

No matter how good the protection of the Radiant Warframe is, it is impossible to completely resist such an attack. The knight's body trembled, almost kneeling, blood had oozed out of the gaps in the armor, a mouth under the helmet, and a mouthful of blood spurted out, but at the same time, the long sword on his waist also flashed into several white lights, and the three golden horde swordsmen became six ranks.

The knight had been wounded, but he did not stop at all, and the Prophet was already retreating under the protection of the last two Golden Horde swordsmen. More nomads are coming in the back. He lunged forward, and with a wave of his hand, the sword flew out of his hand, and slashed diagonally into the head of a golden horde knifeman.

The gun was gone, the sword was gone, and the knight who rushed forward actually clenched his fist and punched the prophet. The Golden Horde Blade's broadsword slashed straight at the top of his head. No matter how good the armor is, it is impossible to resist such an attack, and if this knife can be slashed, even if the head can not be broken, the cervical vertebrae will never be able to stand it.

"Death, evil ......" the Prophet's face was already beaming with joy, and his hands were already glowing with magic. As long as the other party gives way, he has the opportunity to release his magic, even if it has no effect on the Radiant Warframe, at least he can blast this Templar back and fight later

Taxis will rush in soon.

But before he could say the rest of the words, he sank into his head under the Templar's fist, along with the bridge of his nose and a mouth full of teeth.

The knight did not back down, his head and body were only slightly sideways, and the broadsword slashed at his shoulder with an unpleasant loud thud on his helmet. He let out a terrible snort, and even with the protection of the Radiant Armor, his shoulder blades were cracked. He couldn't even resist because he only had one hand.

The knight's helmet cracked and flew up, and long blond hair flew out with blood.

The face under the helmet was actually a woman's face, even if her face was covered with blood, as well as the bloodshot and hideous aura in her eyes, she couldn't hide her handsome and handsome spirit.

Seeing the prophet's flesh and blood fall in a blur, the fierce knight in front of him was actually a woman, and before the golden horde swordsman could be shocked, the sharp pain between his legs directly pushed him to the ground.

The female knight staggered forward, took the broadsword of the Golden Horde and cut off the Prophet's head with a single sword. Blood spurted and splashed onto her face and hair, and she didn't even blink her eyes, and her face was full of looks that were colder and harder than a man's.

She glanced around at the nomadic warriors who were about to rush around, and they didn't know whether it was because the prophet's death was too horrific, or because the female knight was too fierce, and they didn't move.