The cold wind tore the knights' cheeks, the blood under their feet was cold to the bone, but the flames burned more vigorously, and the howling goshawk spread its bloody wings again and again, wanting to rush to its peak.

A shout that resounded through the sky, a roar that shook his heart—brandishing the same weapon, wearing similar armor, shouting the same slogan, both sides tried their best to stab the deadly blade at the Turin man who was exactly like himself on the other side, and Jiang Jianfeng stabbed him in the heart.

The air reverberated with the tugling of bowstrings, the whistling of arrows and javelins, the hunting of battle flags, and the clashing of weapons...... And the final fight.

As for the sound of prayer and shouting, it is no longer heard.

A hundred-man team rushed forward to escort the royal knights who were guarding the little prince - the elites of the two first banners of the Iron Wall Legion and the Guards Legion served as wings from both sides, blocking the enemy who rushed head-on.

"Stop them! stop them!" The officers standing at the end of the stairs finally discovered the purpose of their opponents - they knew very well that they were inferior, and it was impossible to break through the layers of defenses head-on in such terrain, so their real purpose was to tear through the defensive line and then rush into the palace with a small number of elites!

From the very beginning, Anson had no intention of fighting Berion in such a narrow place - because it would be self-defeating, and the real way would be to capture the thief first, rush into the palace and kill Berion, and then the palace guards and the Knights of the Sacred Tree would have to surrender to him.

"Rush over, rush over!" the chief centurion of the Guards Legion himself held high the Legion's banner and took over Greene Tern's place, the fluttering banner turning into a spear in his hand, fighting one enemy after another - it was a fight that risked his life, and had no intention of surviving from the beginning!

The entire army of Hantu City is like a goshawk soaring in the sky. Spreading their wings to stop the enemies on the left and right, the royal knights and elites in the center escorted the little prince Anson to break through the stairs and rush straight to the gate of the palace.

There was no hesitation, because that was the tactic that Green Turney had prepared in the first place - rather to prepare second-hand in case Berion did not appear in the triumphant team.

The calm but bloody chief lieutenant may not be some kind of knight who is good at breaking through and adventurous, but he is good at being prepared for anything. Dealing with all situations and being able to break the balance in any situation is his true talent!

He may not be the best knight, but he is the most deserving chief lieutenant under the command of the little prince, and the true commander of the entire army of Hantu City.

And the 10,000 veterans of the entire Hantu City Legion also carried out their commander's orders without hesitation - even if they knew that the final outcome was likely to be death, they were willing, because this was what they chose. And they understood it from the beginning.

Their mission is to hold off the enemy, send Anson Marcherus through the gates of the palace, buy time for the little prince, and slaughter that Berion!

The slightly unexpected palace guards and the sergeants of the Knights looked at the fighting methods of these soldiers of the Hantu City Legion who were almost killed in shock, so obviously their physical strength and energy had reached their limits, why could they still rush up again and again without hesitation, and fight them desperately like that?

At this point, they even have a little respect for these "rebels" - even if they don't know why they are doing it. But their deeds deserve the respect of any Turinite, and nothing proves the nobility of a knight's spirit more than fearless sacrifice.

And the way they salute. It's to fight with the same unhesitating cry - for the warriors, that's the most appropriate respect for them.

"God bless Turin—!" The chief centurion of the Guards Legion carried the battle flag of the Legion and led the veterans around him to once again rush towards the enemy in front of him, who seemed to be an impregnable wall. They were once extremely proud of the legion, but for the first time they felt why the Knights of the Sacred Tree were the first legion of the kingdom, and each of these soldiers was as strong and proud as knights.

Tired of bones. It only stirred up their will to fight, and the blood under their feet only made their steps heavier and more unshakable—no matter how many brothers fell, the steps under their feet were still neat and firm, and the spears they pierced were still full of fighting spirit and strength.

The brethren behind him were still rushing forward, but the chief centurion could only feel the power of despair. The brother next to him tried his best to block a spear that pierced his heart, and cried out in heart-rending sorrow: "The brothers are about to be killed!"

"Then plug them with corpses, and block them with your spears!" The chief centurion also roared in a chapped voice, "Guards, attack, open the way for His Highness Anson-!"

The unwilling soldiers fell one after another, and there were fewer and fewer living people standing, and the arrows and javelins falling from the sky took away one after another exhausted warriors, and the resolute knight sergeants did not stop for a moment, slowly recapturing the gap occupied by the Hantu City legions that had just rushed over.

And I don't know when, and even for a moment the chief centurion thought that he had heard it wrong, but when he saw the excited expressions of the soldiers beside him, he knew that he had heard it correctly.

It was the bugle call of the Turin Legion.

"The Battle Flag Legion is coming, the Battle Flag Legion is coming-!" The Chief Centurion had an excited expression on his face, and at the same time a little unwilling: "Brothers, rush, don't let the Chief Flag Officer see the joke!"

"Offense - !!!!"

The roaring Repinius had never been so eager and full of fighting spirit as he was now, and the moment he saw the gates of the royal palace, the moment he saw that most of the city of Turin was under his feet, a dream of his childhood seemed to be quietly sprouting, as if it was not far from realizing that dream.

Just walk into the throne hall, walk into that palace, and you will understand everything!

But what stands in the way of dreams is responsibility and hesitation...... In fact, when he rushed up the hill of Marcherus, Liberinus had already sensed that the army of Hantu City was about to lose its hold - they were fighting little by little from the direction where the enemy's main forces were gathered, and the casualties and attrition must have been much greater than that of the Banner Army.

In just a moment, Repinius made a decision and pressed the shoulder of the "knight" next to him: "Ludwig Ahart!"

The assassin of the Blood Banner Brotherhood did not speak, but just glanced back at him, and the corners of Rebinus's mouth trembled slightly: "I know that you are Lord Edward's bodyguard, but I will give you an order now - to protect His Royal Highness Prince Anson." ”

"If he dies, all the fruits of Lord Edward's struggle will be reduced to nothingness, and will all become meaningless—so no matter what, His Royal Highness must live, do you understand?!"

"I thought you would have preferred to go. The corners of the Brotherhood Assassin's mouth curled slightly, and he turned back to the chief centurion and bowed slightly, "No matter what, the mission will definitely be completed in the future." ”

"Even if you die, make sure that His Highness Anson is safe!"

"Understood. It was only after saying this that by the time Repinius raised his head again, Ludwig's figure had disappeared without a trace.

But Repinius sighed as often as he did - lost, melancholy, or pain, only he knew, raised his sword, and Repinus took the Blood Cross Banner from the standard-bearer's hand: "Banner Legion, attack--cover His Highness Anson Marcherus !!!"

At the foot of the stairs of the Markellus hills, the last of the Colon legions finally arrived at the battlefield, and the fluttering blood crosses and the defenders in the square in front of the stairs began the final battle. (To be continued.) )