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"Hold on, hold on a little longer, reinforcements will be arriving!", a squad leader of the Bright Moon Thieves roared with a long sword, his voice hoarse, and his vocal cords were severely damaged in just a few days. But he had to shout, he had to give his subordinates and himself the courage to continue to resist.

There is no right or wrong between countries. From the side of the Turman Empire, the behavior of the Bright Moon Thieves was very bad, they plundered caravans, killed people and sold goods, and were full of evil. But on the side of the Republic, they are heroes.

They collect wealth for their country and the warlords they support within the enemy's borders, and sacrifice their precious lives for the strength of their power.

Life is indeed precious, everyone only has one time, once lost, there is no "after". But they don't care about danger, they don't care about personal gains and losses, and use their lives to strengthen their country.

They slaughter the enemy's people and plunder the enemy's riches!

If they are not heroes, then who are they?

There is no right or wrong between countries!

The wolf smoke in the distance reached the sky, like a rough man trying to the blue noble girl.

The fort is about sixty kilometers away, and if the cavalry charges with all their might, it can be reached in an hour at most, as long as it can hold out for an hour .......

The squad leader's heart gradually sank, an hour seemed to be a short time, but for this member of the Bright Moon Thieves Troupe, who only had more than forty people injured, it seemed extraordinarily long. It's even impossible to do, there are hundreds of people around, and no one knows how many, but the black press is all shaking human heads. They don't dare to count, and they don't want to count, because they have to persevere.

They want to return to their hometown, to be by their ancestors' side forever, not to be eaten by scavengers in this empty and strange wasteland, to be crushed to pieces by a caravan passing through here one day in the future.

With a muffled bang, a member of the outermost Bright Moon Thieves was knocked into the air, his collapsed chest rising and falling slightly, and blood spilling from his features. The impact made him on the verge of death in an instant, but even in the face of death, he still used all his strength and threw the long sword in his hand. I don't know if I can cause damage to the comer, but in a short moment he fell to the ground, bounced twice, and lost his vitality forever.

Alexander galloped on horseback, alongside Rossi. The giant sword in his hand was horizontal, and he opened the long sword that flew over, and spat out, these scum of the republic are really difficult.

The horses began to slow down, and the wagons could not allow the horses to penetrate the defensive camp of the Bright Moon Thieves, which was also the biggest difference between the regular army and the turtles. Those civilian escorts and mercenaries will only act according to instinct and defend in groups, but will not refer to the terrain or the conditions that are powerful to their own side, which is far inferior to the soldiers of these professions.

Seeing that the speed of the war horse was getting slower and slower, Rosie decisively jumped off the horse, "Arrange for two people to bring the war horse back, and the rest of the people will rush with me." ”

He casually threw away the knight's greatsword, although this thing was hugely powerful, but once he lost his mount, the greatsword was a burden. The hundred-pound giant sword is the same as the small door panel, and it is difficult to swing it without the inertia of the war horse, and at most two slashes can make people lose their strength.

He drew his sword from the scabbard behind him, clenched it tightly in both hands, and ran forward. At the same time, a faint light bloomed from under his feet, radiating rapidly towards the surroundings. Above the heads of everyone who was swept by the glimmer of light, a ball of light the size of an egg floated. This ball of light can only be seen by those who have cultivated the Holy Power, some of which are white, and some of which are red.

White represents the absence of hostility, while red represents the appearance of hostility.

Regardless of whether the person in front of him recognized it or not, whether it was a nobleman or a commoner, as long as there was a red light on his head, Rossi would not hesitate to kill him.

Thirty or so people are like entering a no-man's land, and their brave combat effectiveness is like that of a madman, and the killing of the enemy and me makes some people who plan to take advantage of them get out of the way. These madmen don't ask friend or foe at all, and will wave their weapons whenever they get close.

Because of Rossi's accession, the battlefield suddenly fell into silence and roared again, and they were only frightened by the wolf smoke before. But it was still an hour's walk away from the solid stone fort where Wolf Smoke was, which was enough for them to kill the forty or so people in front of them.

The Moonlight Thieves' defensive position was like an island, and the surrounding enemies were pouring up like a tidal wave.

The silent Templars were mechanically efficient at killing anyone who stood in their way, and once a member of the Bright Moon Thieves was killed, the last knight would cut off their heads, twist their hair into a braid, and tie it around their waists. Seven or eight heads were already hanging from the waists of the last few men, and the longing for life and anger against the enemy remained on the heads of these dead and round-eyed people.

The forces in the empire are far away from this group of madmen, and at the same time they are fighting hard.

Seeing that the Bright Moon Thieves were about to be destroyed, several gangs actually fought among themselves.

The word "pig teammates" exists for them, and these people don't even move forward in order to snatch the head, but backwards, regardless of whether the people on the ground are from the Bright Moon Thieves or not, they all cut off their heads and hang them on their bodies.

Barbarism, cruelty, that's war.

The leader of the Bright Moon Thieves slowly pulled out the long sword at his waist and exhaled lightly. He turned to look at the border not far away and smashed his fist in the chest. It is his homeland, the family he loves, the cause he is fighting for, and his pursuit of his dreams and future. However, he will never go back, his head will become a prop for the enemy to boast of his martial arts, his body will feed the animals of this enemy land, and his blood will be shed here.

From the first day he came here, he knew that this would happen, and he had fantasized that he could make it and retire, but fantasies were only fantasies after all. He didn't regret killing an imperial viscount, he just regretted that he didn't do it cleanly. If he is given another chance, he will definitely do it more thoroughly, more cleanly, and not let the news leak out.

One last glance at his homeland, he jerked back, sword in high aloft, and roared to meet an enemy. There was curiosity in his eyes, this young man with golden brown hair looked very young, but his eyes were unusually indifferent, and there was no fluctuation. There is no fear, and there is no joy.

An interesting person, alas, is the enemy.

The swords intersected, and he felt a strong force coming from the swords. His pupils shrank, his left hand swept from his waist, drew a dagger, and smirked into the young man's waist and abdomen. Blood flowed down the dagger to his wounds, and the warm, sticky sensation intoxicated him.

But the other party didn't seem to feel it, he actually stretched out his hand and grabbed the long sword he used to block, and slowly aimed his long sword straight at his .......

Don't you want to die?

He was eager to ask the young man.

At this time, forty kilometers away, one hundred and fifty well-armed troops were galloping on horseback, and it was discernible from their dark blue uniforms that they were all army forces in the Republic. Each of them carried a spear behind him, two palm-sized pockets hanging from his waist, and a leather pocket in the saddle. The leader had a grim expression, staring into the distance, constantly waving his whip and whipping the warhorse.

Compared to these expensive war horses, Brian, who was clearly in danger, was even more important.

Brian is the name of the leader of the Bright Moon Thieves, and he belongs to the First Brigade of the Golden Legion under the command of Billus, one of the great warlords of the Republic, and is a very good soldier. It was precisely because of his excellence that he was sent by Bilus to raid and gather intelligence within the Turman Empire.

Billeus once joked that if Brian could return to the Republic safely, he would appoint Brian as the captain of the First Brigade, a position equivalent to the head of the regiment on Earth, and he had already stepped on the threshold of the top.

Since the Golden Legion received Brian's call for help three days ago, the three brigades of the Golden Legion pressed directly to the border, attracting the Crows on the Solid Rock Fortress side. At the same time, three squads of 300 men were sent to the territory of Tullman to rescue Brian. However, it was a pity that on the way, they happened to encounter the patrol battalion of the Crow Legion, and half of them stayed there to exchange fire with the patrol camp of the Crow Legion, and half of them were split to pick up Brian.

The leader of the squad kept speeding up the march, hoping to catch up, hoping that Brian could hold on!

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I also worked hard, 2 hours, 2 chapters sent