The sudden outbreak of killing stunned the remaining cavalry in the team, but what surprised them even more was the strong combat power displayed by the other party. They even forgot the fact that there were only two people on the other side.

But Glick, who was at the head of the team, wouldn't let this terrible stunned continue. "What are you doing! Get them moving! Kill them for me!" he shouted angrily, turning his horse's head and rushing towards the carriage behind him, "There are only two of them! Hell!

The cavalrymen who were selected to be in charge of the escort mission were not a rabble after all, and they quickly came to their senses at the roar of Glick, showing the fighting qualities of a professional soldier. A charge of more than a dozen horsemen broke away from the carriage and killed the black knights who were heading straight for the carriage, while the remaining cavalry rushed up to the mound, not daring to let a sharpshooter go.

"Contempt...... This is a *** naked contempt!" muttered the archer, who was sitting on horseback, and raised his hand to shoot two feathered arrows at a rapid pace.

Greek had already arrived at the carriage and pushed Sovereign, who was leaning against the door, to the floor. "Put away your useless minds!Don't rejoice too soon!!—All the guys who come to save you will end up as cold corpses!" he slammed the door shut.

Before he could raise his head, the terrifying "whistle" sounded again, and it sounded as if it was getting closer, and the cold sense of crisis made Glick's scalp explode. Almost instantaneously instinctively, he suddenly shrank and flipped straight off the horse's back as quickly as he could.

The whistling feather arrow almost grazed his scalp, and with a "bang" it was nailed to the car door that had just closed, leaving only the tail feathers that were still trembling to themselves, still telling about the thrill just now.

As he fell to the ground, Glick's eyes darkened, and the sharp pain coming from his back almost made him faint. But immediately there was another sound of falling to the ground, and he suddenly rejoiced that his life was great—it was the coachman of the carriage, and the unfortunate fellow had been shot through the neck by another feathered arrow, and after a few twitches on the ground, his eyes widened and he did not move.

Gorrik swallowed hard, lay on the ground and ducked under the carriage, looking around with a pair of wide, frightened eyes. He wasn't going to stand up, at least not until the battle was over.

On the rolling hills, the archer was constantly suppressing the cavalry trying to get close to him with an unbelievably fast rate of fire and dexterous movements, and you would be hard-pressed to see such a calm archer, his feathered arrows in his hands were not deadly, but the tactical intent was very clear to force the opponent to change the direction of the attack, or the speed of the attack.

To add insult to injury, this skilled archer was not a dull, cold-blooded killer. The slang and black words of Tiannan Haibei, even insulting and mocking, gushed out of his mouth unscrupulously endlessly, and even reminded the other party from time to time of the direction of the next arrow. But it cannot be denied that the number of cavalry chasing after him is gradually decreasing, and the irritability that envelops them is gradually replaced by the despair that breeds.

On the other side, more than a dozen Western cavalry and black knights wrestled together, although the word "winch" is not accurate, but it is true, as if the comparison of combat power between the two sides has far exceeded the difference in numbers.

The black figure did not go straight as it did to kill the four of Chala, but as soon as it made contact, it gave up the idea of hitting hard, and staggered past the side of the cavalry charge. Next, one person with more than ten horsemen kicked off the craziest battle circle in this narrow hilly area.

The cavalry of the Western Realm had never been afraid of anyone in equestrianism, but they met their opponent today, the black figure galloping at the forefront, like the wind that grows between the plains and the mountains, unusually cold and unpredictable. Every time he could catch up immediately, he could always suddenly change direction at the most critical moment, avoiding the pursuit of death. And after that, he can also use the non-stop pulling formation to kill the lone rider with his backhand.

Such a sense of powerlessness does not come from elusive luck on the battlefield, but the strength shown by both sides in high-speed operation, and what is even more terrifying is that there is only one person on the other side, yes, only one person who looks very "ridiculous"!

Gradually, a sense of foreboding arose in the heart of Glick, who was lying under the carriage, that what should have been an extremely easy battle had become so difficult. He looked at Chara, who was lying on the ground not far away, his life and death were unknown, and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead vigorously. Then he pressed the helmet in his arms to his head, and climbed from the side of the carriage to the coachman's seat, with only one thought in his heart, the farther away this place of life and death, the better!

The sudden neighing of horses in the middle of the battlefield attracted everyone's attention, and the whip wielded in Gorrik's hand whirred in the air, and the carriage that had imprisoned Sovereign was immediately pushed to maximum speed and rushed out along the winding road.

At the same time, the archer, who had noticed the unusual movement in the field, quickly glanced at his companion, immediately turned his horse's head, and rushed straight down the mountain beam, trying to bite the pace of the carriage tightly. This finally gave the cavalry chasing him hope of killing, and together they urged their horses to block the archers' path.

The short distance passed in a flash, and a smile flashed on the archer's feminine face, and his figure swept towards the cavalry that was rushing diagonally in front of him. "Do you think I can only shoot arrows?...... his voice floated softly, and the longbow in his hand was inserted into the bow pouch behind the saddle, and a cold chill suddenly rose and dissipated the moment the two sides staggered, followed by a wisp of blood on the blade of the sword, and a corpse that was lifted into the air by the strong momentum.

And his companion, the black figure, urged the war horse to draw a graceful arc between the hills, and with the pursuers behind him, he joined the archers on the main road, and followed closely the carriage not far ahead.

From above, on this road that stretches between the hills, three groups of people and horses gallop and stage a strangulation that changes the identities of the pursuer and the pursued. The morning mist and dew were crushed and shattered by the rumbling of horses' hooves, and the verdant hills were dyed with a twisted layer of slaughter, and the contest was simple and straightforward - whoever stops, who dies!

"For the sake of the Lord God, what about our reinforcements?!" the archer pressed his body down on his horse, and the howling wind made him have to shout loudly to his companion, "with our speed, it is impossible to catch up with this carriage!

The black knight tilted his head slightly. "Plans, my plans only end up in Nightingale City. ”

The archer was stunned, but soon burst out laughing, but the gallop on his horseback made him choke hard. "Ahem...... Well, with your style of doing things, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a green-skinned orc underneath the cloak!" Seeing the other man shrug his shoulders noncommittally, the archer continued, "Then please tell me what we are going to do next......"

At this moment, on the hill in front of the carriage to the left, the rising sun cast a magnificent reflection on a cluster of metal raised overhead, and the light moved rapidly, killing straight down the hillside, firmly attracting the attention of everyone on the main road.

It was a man as mighty as an iron tower, with tendons and knotted muscles on his exposed bronzed skin. The most frightening thing was the one-handed swinging giant sword, the rough body of the sword carried in the sun, falling casually, swinging again, even from a long distance, it seemed that the sound of killing could be heard on the blade.

Not far behind him, two old men led a dozen riders to follow closely, one of them with a long sword in his hand, while the other, dressed in a dark brown robe, held a withered old staff.

It's a very strange looking team, as their members seem to have extremely contradictory temperaments. Some are very young, and even have stubborn childishness on their faces, some seem to be fierce and vicious, with the smell of blood wafting on their bodies that cannot be concealed, and some even reveal a sense of depth and mystery as if they were religious beliefs.

But in any case, Gorrik knew very well at this time that this team that suddenly appeared was definitely not an ally who came to help him. Thinking of this, Gorrik suddenly gritted his teeth and whipped the whip on the horse's back, and the speed of the carriage increased again. "Either my allies or my enemies! stop me if you have the ability!" he thought to himself.

Seeing the archers of that team and the black knights, especially the archers lying on horseback, he even straightened his waist, and his bright eyes radiated an eager light, staring at the tower-like figure.

And Tandra's eyes were only the carriage that was getting closer and faster to him, and nothing else. Gripping the reins and slamming the horse's belly, Tandra's steed broke away from the group and charged straight towards the beast-like carriage.

The other party's behavior seemed to Glick as if he had witnessed the funniest farce, but he didn't mind playing with this deadly idiot. "Come, stop me, let me see you turn into a ridiculous puddle of flesh!" he shouted as he stared at the galloping figure.

Tandra was silent, her tightly pursed lips carved resolute lines on her face, and the horse under her crotch was pushed to the limit of speed. He spent countless days and nights in the abyss of remorse for this moment, and he wanted to get back what he had lost—a promise forged with blood for his brother!

The speed of the wind turned him into a shadow of light that swept through the morning, and in the shocked gaze of all, at the moment when contempt and determination intersected, a roar that drowned out all sounds. "Stop!" Tandra's eyes widened in anger, and the giant sword in his hand brought up a strong black light, and smashed down!

"Boom !!......"

The trembling body, the mournful roar of the warhorse, the muffled sound of metal and flesh colliding together...... All the sounds were mixed together, and in an instant they were torn apart so much, as if they were stretched for a long time in a slower time. The next moment, the two horses pulling the cart were shattered by the giant sword, and the crimson blood and flesh foam flew in the air like fireworks, and Grek flew out of his seat, his eyes overflowed with shock and fear that could not be concealed, and the whole carriage was pulled by inertia and sank violently, and slammed to the ground, setting off a wave of broken grass and dirt.

The tower-like figure did not stop there, and the war horse under his crotch carried its master forward, all the way forward! Tandra, who was covered in blood, shook the giant sword in his hand beside him, and the blood that spilled out drew a red bewitching color in the air, and in his eyes, everyone saw something breathtaking--that was the courage to move forward, no life, no death, no pair!