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With the sonorous sound of metal armor colliding, Viscount Fieldland, wrapped in a gray and black shawl, strode on the stone pavement of this dark and filthy alley on the outskirts of the inner city, his face so gloomy that he could almost wring out water.

After being struck hard by Margarita's woman during the day, at night he was dragged by their dear majesty by an order from the three maids on the bed, and in the name of his own guards, he led a group of soldiers to the ghost place where the corpses and feces of beggars were piled up, and searched for the source of the explosion.

What a hellish day!

Filland exclaimed inwardly.

And the pedestrians on the road saw the guards who swept the surrounding taverns and women's branches like waves, and the expressions on their faces were really ghostly, and they ran fast one by one.

The city guards, led by Filland, entered the tavern and shop in small groups one by one, and cooperated very well.

Because this is Virjema, these old fritters of the Nilfgaard barracks like nothing like this kind of 'three no' sweeping shows - no restrictions, no rules, no reason.

Every time they come to do so, they can add a lot of money in their pockets that is enough to squander for a month or two.

As for how many similar or different family ruins are behind the money - who cares but the dead?

Although Filland was born in a noble family, he also obtained his current title through military exploits, and he knows the doorway.

Because these bugs have to give him forty percent, or the next quartermaster will let them know how long they can live on without a weekly pay.

This kind of rule, from top to bottom, has almost formed a complete industrial chain in the Nilfgaard army.

Now, Viscount Fieldland, who had been forcibly dragged out of bed and from the gentle township, could only rely on the meager remuneration he could get after this clean-up as a consolation.

While thinking, Viscount Filland sighed silently in his heart as he rubbed the golden ring on his middle finger that exuded a dull luster.

'It's hard work to make money. ’

He even had to collect his own money. ’

As he sighed to himself, another group of soldiers rushed into a less noisy, but brightly lit tavern.

Filland didn't even bother to look at it, and even sneered in his heart.

These idiots are really hungry.

As soon as the thought flashed through his mind, a thunderous explosion suddenly sounded in his ears.

"Boom ———"

Fellland was stunned, and instinctively looked back, and saw a tall, chestnut-haired man dressed as a wandering knight holding the neck of a heavily armed soldier with one hand, and lifting it up like a chicken, and lifting it in the air.

At his feet, the wood chips and stones scattered in the form of a shock wave spread, and the soldiers who had just rushed in also twisted their bodies and fell to the ground, looking at the appearance of struggling and struggling, they should not be able to die.

It's just that the cry of pain is a little creepy.

Filland turned his head and instinctively shrank behind the guard, but then remembered that he had dozens of soldiers with him, all of whom were professionals, and immediately straightened his waist with his head held high, and his slightly shrill voice was yin and yang.

"I'll just say that Your Majesty is still too merciful to this group of people in Temeria! For these people, a massacre should be used to make them understand why the majesty of Nilfgaard is inviolable. ”

As he spoke, Filland proudly drew out the thin sword at his waist, and nodded at the man in front of him with the sharp tip of the sword with contempt,

"Untouchables, you're the damn troublemaker, aren't you? Do you know how much time you've wasted Lord Fieldland? Well? You unreasonable stupidity. ”

Filland chattered a few words and turned his head to shout at the soldiers beside him,

"What are you looking at? Hurry up and grab him and present him to Your Majesty! Can't you ask me to do it myself? Hurry up! ”

As he was shouting, Filland suddenly noticed that something was not quite right.

When I looked down, I saw that the mental protection brooch on my chest was flickering with a faint light.

The surrounding soldiers stood in place.

If you look closely, you can vaguely see their legs trembling, and some of them can't even stand steadily.

Filland's heart bulged.

Well?

Before he could turn a corner in his mind, the mental protection brooch that was not of good quality suddenly cracked a thin slit, and Fieldland's brain was shocked, as if a magic mine was stuffed into his brain and exploded instantly, directly connecting the trembling spirit and body.

Both the bladder and the sphincter seem to be a little out of their control.

The man who had just looked ordinary in his eyes was as majestic as His Majesty sitting on the throne, holding a scepter and a crown on his head, and his eyes were all submissive.

It's chilling.

Filland's legs shook, even more unbearable than the big-headed soldiers around him, and he almost sat on the ground.

I can barely stand because the muscles in my legs have stiffened.

However, Borch, who was standing in the middle of the clearing, didn't even bother to look at him - this kind of waste, which had almost no elemental fluctuations on his body, could be pinched to death at any time, and there was no need for dialogue.

"Come out."

Borch looked into the air and shouted seemingly inexplicably.

"Bang Bang Bang ......"

Before you see him, you hear his voice first. With a loud burst of applause, I saw that the empty space suddenly opened the curtain like a curtain, revealing several hidden figures inside.

At the head was a man with short blond hair, a long-sleeved leather trench coat, and gloves.

Beside him, in addition to two guards who were as strong as bears, heavily armoured, and wielding large swords, stood a balding male warlock in a robe.

However, whether it was a guard or a warlock, standing in front of this man with a resolute face, he had to be reduced to a foil, and his aura alone was steadily overwhelmed.

Moreover, even in such a violent range of dragon power, this man always looked calm and light, without the slightest wavering.

The voice was hoarse and low.

"I'm sorry to show you a not-so-rosy side of Nilfgaard. First of all, I would like to introduce myself, my name is Marseille Frys. Or you can call me Prince Furis. ”

Borch stared, a pair of golden vertical pupils appeared in his eyes, and silently looked at the few people around him.

"Level 22 Legendary Warrior, Level 20 Legendary Berserker, Level 18 High Warlock."

"Not bad."

The straight smile on Prince Furis's face was slightly retracted, and his eagle-like eyes looked directly at Borch.

Borch's voice slowly spread through the room, low and calm, as if narrating the simplest of facts.

"The second you dare to offend this adult, you will already die without a place to bury."

Prince Furis's pupils shrank suddenly.

The legendary warrior beside him immediately drew his great sword and stood in front of him as a guardian.

Borchi's strong body, which was already more than 1.9 meters tall, swelled again, and while the muscles expanded and tightened, the original human appearance gradually faded, revealing a golden dragon scale, a pair of fleshy wings bulging out from his back, and his face was elongated and deformed into a half-long snout.

"Sure enough, is it a dragon?"

Seeing this scene, Prince Flis whispered.

But he wasn't so nervous.

Although he had never seen it, even the rumored extremely powerful dragon must have its limits.

What's more, this time he brought three professionals who were close to the legendary level, so he didn't believe that he would die......

"Boom ———"

Before Prince Furis could react, the warrior standing in front of him suddenly seemed to have received some unbearable impact, and the whole person disappeared from the spot like a cannonball, dragging a long spreading ravine on the hard stone floor, which looked like he had been gnawed by a dog from a distance.

A deafening roar exploded in his ears.

Even his back-combed back hair was torn into the shape of a wind by the hurricane.

Bolch, who had taken the form of a half-dragon, threw away the warrior he was dragging in his hand, and smashed it into the ground with a layer of dirt, and the slightly older houses in the alleys and streets collapsed in this tremor, kicking up large clouds of smoke and dust.

The berserker in heavy armor immediately drew his big axe and roared and jumped in his direction, a full ten meters, the double-bladed axe was held high above his head, and his huge and strong body more than two meters tall and a heavy armor weighed nearly a ton, and swooped down from mid-air around the air wave of air.

Behind him, the warlock waved his staff and whispered several syllables, and the berserker and himself flashed at the same time, and the sonorous sound of Qingyue's armor rang in his ears.

Borch was unhurried in the face of his flaming axe, seemingly clinging to the edge of the blade, but in fact he turned sideways to avoid the blow.

At the moment of passing by, the five fingers of the dragon's claws were brought together, and the fingertip armor was like five sharp knives, effortlessly piercing through the outer armor spell like piercing through cardboard.

However, in the short moment that the armor charm delayed, the irascible berserker immediately realized the difference between friend and foe, and moved extremely quickly with the metal long axe handle to cross the railing, and the crimson axe blade wrapped in blood was dragged down at super speed in the molsus-like liquid air that was almost visible to the naked eye.

Even the sonic boom couldn't catch up with the movements of the two.

However, in the midst of this super-high-speed interlacing, the berserker vaguely saw Borch's face grinning mockingly.

Before he could react, he felt that the big axe in his hand was suddenly pulled by an unimaginable force, and even his figure couldn't stop staggering.

Then, Borch grabbed the handle of the axe, dragged the big axe from the berserker's hand as easily as if he were snatching a child's toy, and kicked him in the chest.

The heavy armor of a special alloy three fingers thick suddenly dented under this foot, and the berserker's mouth spurted out a mouthful of blood, and his entire body was kicked into the ground.

After the huge impact force hit the stone pavement floor, the surrounding flat slabs also bulged high, and the plots in all directions cracked as if they were expanding, with a rumbling sound.

Borch's movements did not stop at all, his feet twisted, turned, and the big axe, which had not even had time to fade in the red at high speed, swept the wind and waves in the direction behind him under the combined action of his waist strength and arm strength, and the blade of the axe that blew through the air seemed to cut a long white wave boat on the sea.

Behind him, the warrior who had just jumped up from the ground and swung his sword at Borch's back looked dazed.

The tomahawk slashed horizontally and landed at his waist, with a piercing metal tear like a cat's claw across the blackboard, and the blade of the axe tore through the middle of his armor, cutting through the thick blood of the slash, and even the longsword was broken with a single blow.

Borch carried a large axe with a dull blade, and its huge size compared to a long axe looked like a normal adult carrying a kitchen knife.

Prince Flis stood in place, still with the same solemn face, but the bulging Adam's apple on his neck was sliding up and down uncontrollably.

Very subtle expression of their nervousness.

"First, sir. I think we ......."

Borchili ignored it, and raised his axe high as if he were holding a kitchen knife, the golden scales on his body faintly glowing.

"We still have !! to talk about"

"Borch."

The action of the axe came to an abrupt halt.

The blade of the axe rested just three inches above Flis's forehead.

Prince Flis's neck stiffened, his face was straight, and his eyes looked at the blunt sharpened axe blade that stopped in front of his head.

Boom.

The big axe was casually thrown to the ground, and Prince Furis's pair of eyes almost fell to the ground with it.

"Sir."

Borch bowed slightly in the direction of the tavern.

Han Baiyi walked out of the quiet tavern with the griffin's hind leg bone, looked at the ground as if it had been ravaged by a prehistoric brachiosaurus, and then looked at the berserkers and warriors who vomited less than three liters of blood, and waved his hand indifferently.

"Be kind, don't suffer."

"Yes, sir."

Seeing Han Baiyi return to the tavern to continue to nibble on meat, Borch straightened up with a kind expression, and his body shrank back into a human state, looking at Prince Furis and his bodyguards.

"Sorry, I didn't ask clearly."

"What's the matter with you?"