The roar that shook the sky was about to separate the soldiers of the two armies in the fierce battle. After the roar, both the Romans and the Celts opened their mouths in surprise. Watch as the indescribable embodiment of terror enters the battlefield - the Minotaur, the one-eyed minotaur who has torn apart the living and the enemy, stares at its last remaining eyeball, and raises a huge plate axe as it charges at the Celtic army.

"Gun-musket!quick!All muskets and crossbows are concentrated on it!!Shoot that monster!!" The Celtic soldiers on the front line immediately realized that this monster was different from the other minotaurs. It is even more violent than any other minotaur. And speed and agility are unmatched. It's a near-perfect fighter – or rather, a near-perfect battlefield smasher.

In fact, without the angry shouts of the Celtic officers, their musketeers and crossbowmen had already taken aim at the Minotaur. Even the Romans, who were supposed to be its allies, couldn't resist attacking it under the pressure of the troll, or simply fleeing. In fact, when facing the Minotaur, the latter idea would almost have the absolute upper hand.

These are those who are on the same front as the Minotaur. Then it is not difficult to understand how great the pressure of the Celtic soldiers who are fighting against this troll is under. If it was an ordinary, traditional feudal corps, after encountering this situation, I am afraid that it would have been scattered, and it would have fled in embarrassment under its roar and exaggerated attack power that could take more than a dozen lives with a single slash.

However, the morale of the Celtic soldiers was still relatively high—not least because their commander, the Queen of Britain, had a double family name, in which the virtue had increased to sixteen. All the more so because these soldiers have undergone rigorous professional training. The surname of discipline has penetrated into their bones.

It didn't take long for the Minotaur to feel that something was wrong—all the musketeers and crossbowmen within fifty meters of him were aiming at it at almost the same time. And pulled the trigger!

In an instant, the projectiles and crossbow bolts crackled towards the Minotaur like popping beans. The Celtic soldiers believed that even a rhinoceros with an old scalp in front of them would not be able to survive this round of shooting!

But it was miscalculated—if the Minotaur alone, which was thicker than the average minotaur, with countless scars and a thick skin covered with scabs, it was indeed impossible to stop such an attack. But if it has three layers of armor on its body that is even more exaggerated than the ironclad paladier, it will be a different matter - the older the rivers and lakes, the less courageous it is. This is not something to be said casually. The Minotaur roamed the battlefield for decades. It's long past the age of the stunned boy. As the scars on the body continue to grow. Gradually, it became less trusting of the Minotaur's proud physical defenses.

If this was said ten years ago, the minotaurs would have laughed at its timidity, and if it had been five years ago, the minotaurs would have secretly despised it. But now, when the Minotaur was as prestigious as the Minotaur in the Minotaur clan, it draped itself in a thick two-layer scale armor and a layer of chainmail lined with it. Dressed like an ironclad monster. The minotaurs will only think it's a bully and a drag.

Three-Stacked Heavy Armor - Although Heavy Scale Armor does not have as much defense as plate armor. But win by numbers. It's very difficult to break it with projectiles and crossbow arrows. Even if he barely shot through the opponent's armor, he could only regretfully be blocked by the opponent's steel-like skin. Completely incapable of causing effective damage.

After feeling the other party's shot, but it only seemed to tickle and did no harm, the Minotaur smiled hideously and began the slaughter at an even faster speed. It wielded a battle axe and slashed the Celtic soldiers' spears, along with their armor, to shreds along with their bodies. The other hand was not idle, but clenched into a fist and swung like a war hammer, smashing the real Celtic soldiers into meat sauce.

No matter how strong the armor is, it can't stop the troll's attacks, and no amount of sharp moves can break through the troll's defenses. Like a meat grinder, the Minotaur ran rampant in the Celtic army. Countless killings. And the Celtic army was completely unable to stop the monster. The gap in the formation it creates is getting bigger and bigger. It's getting worse. As a result, the Roman soldiers frantically poured in and fought hard. The situation on the battlefield changed once again! This monster single-handedly changed the situation of the battle!!

In this way, soon, the exaggerated actions of the Minotaur aroused the interest of Artoria, the Queen of Britain, who had been paying attention to the battlefield, as if he had seen some very good toy. Artoria immediately became excited. The interest in killing, the interest in slaughter, and the interest in fighting were aroused at once by this minotaur! The resentment and anger that had accumulated after years of idleness finally had a cathartic goal at this moment.

Her eyes widened to the limit, and her pupils narrowed like pinpoint tips. The corners of his mouth turned up unnaturally, revealing an exaggerated, hideous smile. The body was shaking uncontrollably as if it had taken too many drugs. The pieces of armor with the curse rubbed against each other with a screeching sound.

Artoria has found a target worth killing. The terrifying Queen of Britain has an interest in killing at this moment.

"Heh, hehe, heheha

Artoria said such an exaggerated remark as she flipped on her horse. Like a wild beast, he turned his head viciously, glared at the knights of the guards who wanted to catch up, and roared: "It's okay for Bengong to be alone! Don't come with you! Otherwise, Bengong will kill you first!"

The knights of the guards looked at each other, not knowing why. But no one dared to catch up anymore.

And so, Artoria laughed wildly, laughed with great joy, and rushed into battle. Roaring at her soldiers to split their way for her to pass, even to the point of wanting to kill them in order to clear the way. The thought of wanting to kill that monster occupied almost her entire brain, and her whole temperament completely changed. One could even feel a chill of black mist emanating from Artoria - if the minotaur was terrifying with its exaggerated appearance, roar, and savage fighting style, then Artoria could feel visceral fear with her momentum alone.

Closer, closer!Artoria galloped all the way—until at last she abandoned her horse and went into battle on foot, pushing away the soldiers who stood in her way with brute force not inferior to that of the Minotaurs. It wasn't until nearly five meters away from the Minotaur, where several hundred-man teams on the front line joined forces to attack, but were beaten by one of its monsters and couldn't raise their heads, that she could hear the Minotaur's roar clearly.

"This is it!"

Suddenly, the Minotaur felt his heart pound. A "Danger!" signal slammed into its brain, causing its body to subconsciously take a step back, raise the tomahawk in its hand and make a parry-off gesture - this was the first time in its nearly an hour of furious combat!

- It was a fatal blow from Artoria! Courage and a violent slash with the speed and strength of his whole body - five meters away, the armored Queen of Britain jumped in a single lunge! And with such momentum he struck at the head of the Minotaur, threatening to cut his head in half!

"That's amazing!" the Minotaur struck his tomahawk with a sudden force. That kind of strength is not even comparable to the horror of a huge African wild elephant it once duel. Its arms were slightly numb, and its body took a step back uncontrollably, staggering before it stood firm!

Artoria, who landed firmly on the ground, took advantage of the situation to pursue, and the big sword in his hand swung wildly like a stormy wave, and continued to attack the Minotaur--the trolls blocked, blocked, blocked-and retreated! For a while, in this head-on, hard-fought duel, it was Artoria who had the upper hand!

The shocked brains of the surrounding Celts went blank, and then erupted into deafening cheers!"King Arthur!" The cries rose higher and higher, almost like a celebration! On the other hand, the Romans, whose morale had almost dropped to freezing point after seeing the Minotaur patriarch, whom they regarded as trump cards, was suppressed.

Backwards, defenses, retreats, defenses, retreats, defenses—in such a situation, the Minotaur erupted—being pressed and beaten by a human—a woman—a madman, but a woman—to be pressed and beaten by her—to be the head of the Minotaur race, the most powerful warrior race in the world—to be pressed and beaten by a human woman!!!

"Ahh!!!!!!h Just want to chop this woman who disgraced it to pieces!

(To be continued)