When the makeshift legion of soldiers from all over Osunon had been assembled, Adjutant Rama brought Tyrion his warhorse: the graceful Marhandell, dressed in glittering silver armor, one of the gifts from the Queen of Eternity to Tyrion, the most perfect of Arian horses, who accompanied his master to crush the skulls of countless enemies.

Tyrion definitely flipped on his horse, grabbed Malhandiel's reins, and looked back at the legions gathered behind him as far as the eye could see, the crowds of men, the swords and halberds, the silver armor of Azul glittering in the occasional explosion of lightning, he could smell the metallic smell of the polished weapons, the leather and steel armor, and the fishy smell of the horses.

To tell the truth, he was deeply immersed in this feeling of silence before the great war.

The team was ready to go, everything was in order, like a sophisticated war machine about to be activated, and every tense and silent face in the field of vision was a cogs that made up something far larger than themselves.

He longed to be part of this group of warriors and to be part of the collective.

Even though Tyrion knew he was facing an even more terrifying beast of war, he was fearless and excited.

Facing death has always been a challenging and blood-pumping experience.

And Tyrion always rejoiced in it.

"Let's go."

He held the Yang Yan Sword, calmly ordered, and rushed to the front line with tens of thousands of High Elf warriors.

Before Tyrion and the others arrived in the outer city, a heat wave rushed in their faces, and the smoke of gunpowder filled the air, and the air trembled like a huge beehive, and the city was shaken.

The Dark Elves' Reaper Crossbow and Ushabit's giant bow and arrow fell in the city without stopping, and the fine sand that rolled up the small stones seemed to fill the seven holes of the people, and many soldiers who were new to the battlefield turned around because they could not withstand the impact too strongly, and then trembled in the center of the impact even more violently.

Tyrion felt like he was being pushed by a storm of fine dust, as if his life was tied to this force, and the burden of his fate had been entrusted to him.

The situation at the front was even more difficult than Tygo had expected, with the wounded Nagaris sitting under the walls, the ground scarletized with blood gushing from their armor, and more and more wounded were carried down from the city as the war dragged on, scrawled there.

In the crowd, Tyrion saw Aris, the prince of Nagaris, and the Shadow King repelled a wave of attacks, his delicate armor covered in blood, but not a drop of his own.

"As you can see, it's bad." Aris, who had a tired face, gasped and said straight to the point, "Malekis has brought twenty black dragon knights here, and he is now watching this place from the hill outside the city, and it seems that he will not give up until he has achieved his goal. ”

"He's not going to get away with it." Tyrion smiled coldly, then shifted to say, "Open the gates." ”

"What are you going to do?" Aris was shocked, "The dark elves are attacking the gates now, and once they are opened, they will never be closed again. ”

"Of course I do." Tyrion laughed brightly, though his smile didn't make his hair stand on end.

"Malekis also knows, so I want to surprise His Majesty the noble prince, believe me, son of Yin Osriel."

Aris looked at Tyrion suspiciously, and hesitated, "But I can't gamble with you with the whole city of Droder. ”

"Rest assured, the Eternal Queen is right behind us, and she will be over soon. The city will never fall to the dark elves. ”

After receiving Tygo's assurance, Aris finally made up his mind and ordered the guards to open the east gate.

The moment the heavy gates were opened, Tyrion took advantage of the fact that the dark elves and Nehekhara undead outside had not yet reacted, and directly launched a huge charge with thousands of Silverhelm Knights.

To the sound of horses neighing, the knights in bright armor drove their restless mounts and followed Tyrion out of the gates.

The flaming Sun Sword in Tyrion's hand is his most striking symbol. With a single sword, he sliced the filthy battle banner made of human skin from the hand of one of the tomb guards, then grabbed the broken flagpole with his left hand, stabbing it like a spear into the chest of another dark elf.

With a great deal of slaughter, the High Elves broke the innermost encirclement of the East Gate, and Tyrion quickly looked around at the battlefield.

The blood-red sunset illuminates this chaotic battlefield. The Plains of Droder, a barren, empty, and dreary wasteland, a previously rarely mentioned wilderness, was now the center of great war. The screams of the dying and the clamor of the blades echoed in a symphony of hell that echoed in his ears.

In a matter of moments, Tyrion knew everything about the battlefield.

This kind of unusual observation is an innate talent of Taige, and it is not difficult to command a real war, it is like looking down on a chessboard from above. He saw that the Dark Elf army was storming the walls, and the Azul army was still at a disadvantage. If you want to turn the tide on the battlefield in a short period of time, you must act boldly.

So he looked beyond the tens of millions of people and aimed at the real enemy: Malekis and Moras, who were watching the battle from afar on the hills. And he soon realized that the two men were also staring at him with full attention.

The Witch King's grim gaze was flashing with extremely mixed emotions.

Malekis and his own blood junior are destined rivals, and have fought several times, all of which ended in the failure of the plan, the worst of which was on the Finor Plains, where his men were killed by Tyrion and Tygris, and even he had to flee into the Chaos Demon Realm to save his life.

It stands to reason that Marekis should hate the Tai brothers to the core, but in fact, in addition to holding grudges, he also quite recognizes the abilities of the two brothers, especially Brother Tai, he feels that they are like-minded people.

If it weren't for the natural opposites, he and Tyrion might have become friends.

Tyrion also seemed to be vaguely aware of the Witch King's attitude towards him, but he just scoffed at it and ignored it.

Comparatively. He had never understood the way Morath looked at him, with interest, admiration, or simply as the reincarnation of an ancient spirit.

The thought of Tyrion annoys him most of all is that someone thinks of him as the reincarnation of Ainao.

He gathered a group of elite knights and charged in the direction of the Witch King.

This is not a reckless move, but an attempt to completely disrupt the dark elves' military formation.

Tai Ge clearly understood that his cavalry was seriously undernumbered, and he was also surrounded by the infantry of the dark elves who were screaming for battle.

And those dark elves fought with machine-like discipline and ruthless courage, and the mother was undoubtedly awe-inspiring.

If you want to win more with less, you must live with death.

Tyrion raised his sword above his head, motioned for his knights to assemble, turned, and charged at the enemy again. This team shines on the battlefield like the legendary assembled heroes.

Tyrion rode his horse through the vanguard of the front, where fierce fighting was raging. Marhandel carried his master steadily from battlefield to battle, walking on the ground in a pool of mud and blood. The Sun Sword burned brightly in Tyrion's hands, cracking away at the enemies that stood in his way.

Neither the tomb nor the dark elves fell under the Excalibur without distinction.

Tyrion used the Excalibur worn by his famous ancestor to kill everything within reach. His Excalibur was a glorious burning banner that guided the elven cavalry that followed him to slaughter all the fleeing foes.

Breaking through the enemy formation more and more, Yu Qiang was met with resistance, and at this moment, there were only more than a thousand Silverhelm Knights left who could still follow Tyrion to charge.

"For Elarili, for the Eternal Queen!"

In the midst of the bloody battle, Tyrion shouted. The mere mention of his lady's name rejuvenated him and reaffirmed his determination to fight and win. The exhausted High Elf warriors around him responded: they fought more and more bravely, crushing any enemies that stood in their way, and approached the high hills.

The proud High Elf knights marched in groups, trotting their horses forward in order to launch a thunderous charge afterward, and so on several times, easily tearing through the blockade of the Joy Sect's vanguards.

On the other side, in the ranks of the more elite Dark Elves, Loxia was calmly giving instructions, organizing the team to prepare for the onslaught head-on.