On the morning of April 20, the 4th year of the new calendar, the sun shone on the walls of Santan City, and the figures in the gaps in the arrow stacks swayed. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

Fetro stood on the concrete road a stone's throw from the walls, restraining his horses and looking at the low, well-built walls as if he were enjoying a farce. He didn't worry about a cold arrow sneak attack at all, and he didn't believe that the Middle Earth species in the city would dare to attack the city.

He was a little tired from running around for days, and wanted to take a break from admiring this city to rest for a while.

On the morning of the 19th, when Fetro walked out of the ruins of Misty Town, the Knights of the Fairman City-State were also expanding their occupation area, collecting lowly Middle-earth species along the way. Along the way, Fetro saw men who tried to resist being nailed to stakes and burned alive, and women of good looks being straddled by the knights, like tamed wild horses.

Fetro knew that burning a few of them would help the Middle-earthers figure out the situation and stop causing trouble for the knightly army on a long journey, but he still didn't like the guys who were making fun of their trousers - the Middle-earth were lowly and dirty, and to do that with them was to do that was to do it himself.

However, the Knights of the Fairman City-State is the direct army of the little giant Elliot, and he, Fetro, is just a small scout in the army, and even if he can't get used to it, he won't be bored.

Fatro headed south, and in the evening something was wrong. He made his way deep into the heart of Middle-earth, leaving villages and towns empty of all the traces of people fleeing in a hurry.

Obviously, the news of the landing of the army in Middle-earth has been leaked. Perhaps, it had something to do with the strange earthquake at noon on the 18th, Fellman thought.

Then, he followed the clues left by the people as they fled, and after a whole night, he finally came to the city.

Fetro vaguely remembered that the capital of the local province in the intelligence was a day's and night's journey south of Fog City, but the city in front of him didn't look like that city, because the inconspicuous Misty Town in the intelligence was not much smaller than here.

He looked back at the south, and the avenue he had taken when he came ran through the entire wheat field, and the tender green wheat seedlings were as dense as a huge velvet carpet, which was impossible to see anywhere in the Knight Continent.

But what puzzled Fetro even more was that the straight road under his feet turned out to be a whole flat rock.

"Middle Earth Seed......" he snorted coldly, and a wave of hatred suddenly rose in his heart. It probably occurred to the thought that the brave knights could not even eat bread, and that the lowly Middle-earth people still had the leisure time to build such an unreasonable rocky avenue.

Wait, for a few days at most, the whole city will be prostrate and trembling under the knight's sword.

Fetro sneered as he turned his horse's head around and heard someone on the wall behind him shouting, "He's running away!"

He grinned as if he had heard a joke and looked back at the walls.

After a fierce and concentrated burst of gunfire, Fetro, along with his horse, collapsed in a pool of blood.

The experienced messenger of the Silver Star Mercenary Regiment, who was once reduced to a beggar but finally took up arms to fight against fate, the brave fourth-level knight Fetro, died alone under the walls of Santan City. To death, there was a contemptuous smile on his lips.

......

"Fall, fall!" shouted the young magic apprentice excitedly at the battlements of the wall.

For several days, the city of Santan, which had received tens of thousands of refugees, was like a crowded island, facing the panic that it could be swept away by the knight's waves at any time.

And the lone knight who appeared outside the city was like a harbinger of calamity, indicating that the knight army was about to come to the city. For a full ten minutes, the magic apprentices guarding the city wall all held their breath and stared at the strange and terrifying figure.

Before Dean Laurent ordered a volley, no one knew if the magic spear in his hand could threaten the knight. And because of this, when the knight fell in a pool of blood with his warhorse, shouts of excitement rang out from the city walls.

"Don't relax!" Dean Laurent's voice sounded again, and he walked to the battlement of the city wall himself, looked at it for a while, and then took a step back, and ordered in a loud voice: "One more salvo!

The sound of a salvo of more than six hundred magic guns was deafening, and when Laurent stood at the battlement again, he finally concluded that the knight was dead. Not only was his body mangated, but even the concrete road was smashed to pieces by magic guns.

"Gentlemen!" said Dean Laurent, who had never addressed his students like that, so when he shouted like this, the children from the Santan Academy of Magic all looked at him with a serious look on their faces, and although they were still nervous, they all had a hint of pride.

Yes, the dean's title meant that he had already regarded these children as adults, even though most of them were only fourteen or fifteen years old.

"The enemy will be there at any time!" Laurent pointed to the north, "maybe we will all die in this war! Maybe none of us will see the sun tomorrow......"

At this time, nearly 10,000 people had gathered up and down the city wall, almost all of whom were students or graduates of the Santan School of Magic.

The gray-haired mage Laurent, in their minds, represented the supreme authority of this civilian magic academy. Therefore, when such a pessimistic opinion came out of his mouth, everyone was grimly silent.

Even the sound of the wind passing over the walls of the city seemed so sad.

"But this is our homeland! The enemy's iron hooves trample on the land cultivated by the sweat of your parents and brothers! The enemy's sword slaughters your siblings who were raised by the Boer River like you!" Dean Laurent's voice was excited, and then slowly calmed down: "More than ten years ago, I met Lord Duke for the first time, and he said that he wanted the Santan School of Magic to accept civilian children...... I don't understand him, the whole magic academy, no one can understand, but the Duke only said one sentence: why can't the children of commoners be educated?

Laurent looked around the crowd, looked at the grateful faces, and then said: "The Duke is a southerner, a native of the province of Tris, but he gave up the richest fief in the whole south and came here, so that the children of the three northern provinces have the opportunity to enter the classroom, so that all the farmers in the three northern provinces have land, so that the farmers who have been poor for generations no longer have to starve and freeze...... Today, we will use our own blood and our lives to tell the Duke that everything he has done is worth it! We, the children of the north, deserve his kindness!"

The crowd, both adults and children, almost all held their magic guns high with tears in their eyes, silently responding to Dean Laurent's oath.

"Today we only want to die!The name of the Santan Academy of Magic will be celebrated for eternity!" Dean Laurent threw his fist hard, and the crowd erupted in an earth-shattering roar.