The old river channel before the eagle fell was a riverbed that had dried up a long time ago. It is said that tribes once thrived here, and simple dikes were built and ditches were dug – but that was thousands of years ago, and the water that once fed the soil was long gone, leaving only overgrown riverbeds and slopes on both sides, and the ditches that once irrigated the fields are long gone.

It's only been a month, but the once dry river has a little more water—but the "water" is red, and there are countless severed arms and stumps floating on it, and stiff and cold bones.

On the battlefield just two kilometers wide, the Hantu City Legion has been fighting with the Blue Wolf Clan repeatedly, and the tug-of-war like a sea of corpses and blood has been staged for twenty consecutive days - every inch of land, every weed, and every dirt slope has experienced countless battles, countless corpses and bones have fallen, broken and rusted swords and spears have fallen on the battlefield like a jungle, and the swallowtail flag, which has been scorched by the flames and only a few wreckage, is still fluttering gently in the breeze.

Turinese people, Hantu people...... When countless bones are piled up, no one can tell the difference—this is not a battlefield, but a hell, a hell that can turn all living life into a pool of flesh and blood.

Trolls, blood wolves, ordinary soldiers and tribal warriors, knights of the nobility of Turin...... There is no difference on this battlefield, every life is as fragile as an ant, and after stepping into this meat grinder, the only ending is death, the difference is only before and after time.

The little prince Anson, riding a white horse, looked at the battlefield in the distance with the smell of blood passing by his face. Look at the corpses of the Turin soldiers who were already cold and stiff. But he didn't feel the slightest bit of anger. On the contrary, he was surprisingly calm, and there was not even a slight emotional fluctuation in his eyes.

Because in the last twenty days, he had seen so much—trampled to death by trolls, turned into meat sauce by falling stone cannons, burned alive to charcoal...... There are too many, so much that it seems to have seen enough of the amount of this life.

The royal knights holding the flaming goshawk battle banner were clustered on both sides, while Green and Edward, who were the chief lieutenant and flag officer, were beside the little prince, but Edward, who had a calm face, was not as embarrassed as Anson. There was a strange light in his deep eyes.

It's hard to imagine that such a thing as a formal declaration of war could be done by a very cunning guy like Asriel - this guy is so smart that he will definitely not choose to go head-to-face with the Turin Legion. Therefore, his goal is definitely not a "fair and just" "knightly" decisive battle, but another plan.

"Is there a second explanation?" Greene Turn, as if he had seen through Edward's thoughts, a smile on the corner of his mouth: "But the more this is the case, the more necessary it is for us to meet them, don't we, otherwise how will we know what he wants to do?"

"It's the first time I've heard such provocative words from your mouth. Edward couldn't help but reply to him, but saw a helpless expression on Green Turn's face.

Obviously, the chief lieutenant had no intention of meeting with this so-called blue wolf chief from the beginning. The reason for this is simply Anson - even after so many blows, the proud little prince still can't refuse the enemy's request to meet. After all, he had the blood of the proud knights of the Markaeus family in his veins.

But in Greene Thern's eyes, it's self-inflicted. The enemy never found a chance to make the Turin Legion give up their defenses and fight them to the death, so that they would no longer have to face the threat of layers of defensive lines and ballistas under the Eagle Fall Mountain, and what better way to make the Turin Legion lose their minds and attack brazenly than by killing the Duke of Hantu City—but Anson had already insisted on doing so, and the Chief Adjutant could only do all the protection work no matter how frightened he was.

If he didn't even have the courage to face the enemy, even the little prince himself couldn't bear the result, as if he was really afraid of the enemy - even though he knew that there was likely to be a trap, he resolutely stepped out.

The group slowly walked to the dirt slope in the middle of the old river - the surrounding area had long been piled up with all kinds of corpses, and the strong smell of corpses and blood made the little prince's face pale, but he was still firm without the slightest change, and proudly puffed up his chest, like a knight waiting for the arrival of the enemy.

Soon, the wolf warriors holding the wolf totem arrived, and Edward's eyebrows twitched suddenly—Asriel was actually alone, not even a single guard, and he himself carried the banner and rode the blood wolf to the dirt slope.

Not only Edward, but even Anson was a little stunned, staring at Asrael, who was still walking with a smile on his face: "What the hell do you mean?!"

"It's nothing, I just trust you. The young blue wolf chief couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth, but his right hand held the hilt of his saber: "Turin is the land of knights, and I believe that with your chivalry, you will never harm anyone who comes to talk to your leader, even if it is an enemy, am I right?"

This brute is a miscellaneous...... Green Thorn's face was feverish - when he saw that there was only one person on the other side, he really planned to order the knights of the royal family around him to kill him, after all, such an opportunity was really a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

But when he saw the other party holding the handle of the knife in his right hand, the corners of Edward's mouth couldn't help but curl up slightly—perhaps it was really because it was too similar, he always had the illusion of facing himself every time he saw Asriel, and he could even see the other party's actions clearly.

He didn't believe in any "chivalry", he believed that these royal knights would never stop him, and that even if he was alone, he could kill himself from the enemy's encirclement - maybe he was expecting this kind of thing to happen.

"I'm sorry to meet you here, Lord Anson Marcherus, Duke of Hantu City. While everyone here was still stunned, Asriel had already begun to "introduce himself" by himself, and sat on the blood wolf and saluted the little prince quite standardly: "In Lower Asrael, the great chief of the blue wolf clan and the king of the 300,000 warriors of the Hantu Territory, of course, like your father, the king who rules the whole of Turin is still incomparable. ”

"It's good that you understand!" Anson just snorted coldly - although he had already heard Edward talk about it, but when he really saw that this so-called Great Chief of the Blue Wolf was actually a teenager about the same age as himself, he still couldn't help but feel an impulse to be unconvinced: "Say, what do you really want to get." ”

"Quite simply, the independence and freedom of the whole Hamland. Asriel opened his arms as a matter of course, and looked at Anson calmly: "We don't want war with the Kingdom of Turin, but you do occupy our land. ”

"This can't be, the Flaming Goshawk has ruled this land for three hundred years, and this is not your land—this is the realm of the kingdom. ”

"Even if you rule for a thousand years, it won't change the fact that this is the Hantu, and the Hantu should belong to the Hantu people!" Asriel did not back down at all: "No matter how many people you move to this land and build more castles, it will not change this fact, and the Hantu will always be the hometown of the Hantu people!"

"I advise you to be sensible—for the sake of your people. Anson's expression was terrifyingly cold: "Leave the Iron Cliff Mountain, never think of going west, and be your king of the land honestly, and the wrath of Turin will not fall on your head." ”

"I also advise you to be realistic, for the sake of the hundreds of thousands of people of Turin in Hantu City—if you return the land that belongs to the Hantu people, you will not feel how terrible the hatred and anger accumulated by the Hantu people over the past three hundred years is!" (To be continued.) )