"Protect Lord Witwood!" Seeing the crow mercenaries pounce on Edward with scarlet eyes, the centurion smashed the shield with his sword, and the Turin soldiers immediately raised their shields in front of them, and pushed forward with their spears raised, blocking Edward in the back row.

The fierce crow mercenaries roared loudly and prayed loudly to the gods they believed in, their rude and arrogant faces were filled with the slaughter and greed of the northern barbarians, and there was no longer any so-called formation, they held their shields in front of them and raised their battle axes in their hands, and the fanatical shouts almost rushed towards them.

Just when they saw this group of guys charging, the hired archers immediately raised their longbows, and the black arrows only left a few black afterimages in mid-air, and then the two black crow mercenaries who rushed to the front screamed and fell to the ground, and several guys who reacted quickly quickly raised their shields, but they were also pierced by sharp arrows in their palms.

But at such a close distance, the longbowmen didn't have time to shoot a few arrows, the centurion raised his saber high, and the Turin soldiers with spears raised their spears and charged at the approaching crow mercenaries, and in a cry of battle, shields and cold blades kept colliding with each other.

Although the centurion tried his best to maintain order and queue, but the too dense formation could not be used, after stabbing the spear in his hand into the opponent's chain mail, the Turin soldiers threw down the wooden poles in their hands, drew their short swords and fought with the enemy, desperately pushing the enemy in front of them forward, the sturdy short sword and the battle axe continued to fight together.

"Looks like you have a chance, Miss Shirrell. Edward, who had always been standing behind, shook a sword flower lightly, and said to the purple-haired woman beside him with a somewhat teasing tone. Shirrell tilted his head to glance at him, and with the two-handed sword in one hand, he rushed into the battle from the side.

"Die, damn mercenary!" a Turin soldier from the Garrison Legion stabbed the spear in his hand fiercely, and the sharp tip of the spear pierced directly into the chain mail of the crow mercenary in front of him. Before he could get much more proud, the mercenary man, who had just howled miserably, had an incomparably distorted smile on his face, roared with blood in his mouth, and slashed the battle axe into the shoulder of the Turin soldier.

"Ahh

In the blink of an eye, a sharp gray blade stabbed out from behind him and directly tore the damn guy's neck, and the gurgling blood kept gushing up from the trachea, and the Turin soldier, who was still in shock, stood stupidly in place and stared blankly, and was grabbed by the back collar with one hand and fell directly to the ground.

"Don't die here, don't die at the hands of this scum!" Edward glared at him, and with a twist of the sword in his right hand, even the chain mail on the mercenary in front of him was torn in half by the blade, and then he stomped on this guy's neck - if this guy was alive and pretended to be dead, it would be worth the loss.

Edward, who had just put down a guy, raised his sword and blocked the battle axe that was slashing from his side - the Knights of the Sacred Tree cloak on his body was so obvious that almost everyone's attention was on the body of this "little white-faced lord", completely caught in a chaotic front, almost all the crow mercenaries rushed towards Edward like crazy, and their greedy eyes were like seeing a walking cash box.

"Let's go and protect Lord Witwood, shrink the formation!" the part-time centurion shouted, but he was dragged by a few guys around him, and he could only swing his sword desperately, and even his helmet was removed from the ground by the guy who didn't know it. A deep bony wound remained on his forehead.

"You worms, don't kill that little white face - if he dies, what will we get in exchange for money?!" Looking at the almost crazy appearance of the mercenaries on the side, the crow leader Sass scolded: "If anyone dares to kill him, I will also let that guy taste the taste of being killed!"

"You'd better take care of yourself first!" Shairel suddenly appeared behind him, the big sword in his hand slashed down with a whistling sound, and Sas, who shouted to dodge, quickly lifted his battle axe, and Shyrrell, who missed the sword, immediately swung the cold blade from the bottom up again, and the sparks of the steel blade hit flew in all directions.

"Shrell, you will die for me!" The mercenary leader of the North Sea bared his teeth and roared, and forcibly caught the big sword in Syrel's hand: "I will never die in such a place, never!"

"But that's your death, Sass. Shirrell's expression was still the same as the empty appearance, but his voice became cold, and he stepped on the earth and swung the blade of the sword in his hand at the guy in front of him: "You are a ferocious and inhuman monster, and living will only bring pain and sorrow to others!"

"Listen to another mercenary tell people about good and evil, are you a three-year-old or are you stupid and hopeless?!" Although he was beaten by Shirell and didn't even have room to fight back, Saas, who kept dodging, was even more disdainful: "Do you think this little white face you are loyal to is a good thing, savior?"

"As long as you're a man, the first thing they think when they see you is the same as mine. Only a fool like you would think about the nobility and justice of life and all that nonsense, and only a fool like you would believe that there is a savior in this world - when that little white-faced savior of yours asks you to undress, will you still kneel down and kiss his feet?!"

"Poof-!" The heavy steel sword pierced directly through the abdominal cavity of the big northern man, and the blade full of blood troughs hung with blood and torn flesh stretched out from his back, like a puddle of mud Sass was hung on the sword, thick blood kept flowing out of his mouth, and his trembling eyes were still staring greedily at Shirrell's face and neck.

"I, I really regret it, if I hadn't thought too much about it at the beginning, I would have just pressed you to the ground......" Bubbles kept bubbling in his throat, but Sass was still smiling: "It's different now, hehe...... cough cough"

"yes, you should regret it. Shrell, who was still expressionless, exerted his hands with force, and Sas, who was hanging from the sword, was removed from the sword. The purple-haired woman slowly squatted down and gently closed her eyes for him: "But there is no such thing as 'should' in this world. ”

"The leader of Sass is dead!" Seeing the hideous head carried by the blood-stained Shrell, the crow mercenaries who had just gone crazy almost immediately collapsed, crouched down one by one, and gave up resistance.

Panting, Shairel put the greatsword behind his back, his chest tightly wrapped in leather armor kept rising and falling, looking at the group of mercenaries who were trembling and peeking at him, and then pointed to Edward, who was also looking at him with a little smile: "Everyone get down on your knees, throw your weapons on the ground and pay allegiance to Lord Edward Witwood!"

The crow mercenaries, who had just planned to tie up Edward as a "meat ticket", immediately obediently threw away the tomahawks and shields in their hands, and all of them, whether they were injured or almost intact, turned their backs to Sath's corpse, and knelt in front of Edward without resistance, looking loyal.

But this is the rule of survival for the mercenaries - only to be loyal to the surviving winners, because it is impossible for the dead to pay them, and without a strong enough leader, they are rootless duckweed, and there is no second way to choose but to become robbers.

For the same group, allegiance to Edward was no different from Sas's allegiance - not to mention that the new master also had a title of nobility, much stronger than the original patriarch.