A rain of whistling arrows swept through the clear sky and fell into the muddy meadows, the wailing and screaming Turin soldiers and the menacing wolf warriors fought together, slamming their helmets into each other's eyes with the last of their strength, falling flags falling into water-filled puddles, and their severed hands still clutching at the broken flagpoles as if they were still shaking, shouting the roar of attack.

The roar of the wave and the sound of fighting on the battlefield seemed to cover the haze of the entire sky, and Asriel on the cliff stared at the army of the Blue Wolf Clan who was still roaring in the mountains and tsunami, launching one charge after another, looking at the battlefield that was almost a meat grinder, but his heart did not fluctuate.

The blue wolf warrior still knelt behind him, but this time he was covered in blood, and he was still panting for breath with scaly wounds all over his body, but he still didn't dare to look directly at the black-haired boy, and knelt on one knee as if waiting for punishment.

Asriel didn't even look at him more, just staring at the battlefield in the distance, which was still almost stuck—looking at the Blood Cross battle banner that had torn apart the charge of the Blood Wolf Cavalry again and again, as if he could see the guy wielding the strange knight's sword under that banner.

The resistance of the entire left flank of the Turin Legion was completely beyond his expectations - not only were these people not completely defeated, but like an enraged lion, they launched a counter-charge towards the blue wolf warriors who rushed down the hillside almost without fear of death, tearing the already overwhelming charge to pieces!

How could this be, hadn't they already suffered more than half of the casualties - even a legion commander had been killed, all positions had become a mudflat, their own troops were twice as large as theirs, and there was not even a single Turin legion that had come to support them, what did they rely on to hold on until now?!

It's simply impossible, impossible!

Asriel is gritting his teeth almost insanely now—if time could go back to that night a month ago. Even if he fights with all his forces, he must kill Edward Witwood. Whatever is it that turns these scum-like Turin dogs into a bunch of crazy people who aren't afraid to die, it's definitely this guy's doing!

The Turin dogs, who were supposed to tremble in fear, throw down their weapons and kneel on the ground to die, now dared to shout arrogantly in front of the noble blue wolf warriors, and beat their shields with their weapons to provoke - who gave them the courage. Who gave them such arrogant courage?!

Edward Witwood, this guy is the real madman.

Kill him, you have to kill him, or there will be no end to it—what was once a fleeting thought now gives Asriel a real sense of fear.

This is a gamble, the stake is the lives of both sides - if the Duke of Hantu City takes the lead in defeating the army of the Blue Wolf Clan, then it will be his own death, and what he has to do is to crush the Turin Legion on the left flank as soon as possible, and then flank them from the right, the Duke of Hantu City who is attacked on both sides will definitely not be able to stop the almost endless offensive of the Blue Wolf Clan. The victory is still your own.

But now he is entangled by Edward, the madman, with a group of remnants of the defeated elite around him, and he has never been able to join the main force of the Blue Wolf Clan behind him - Asriel is extremely disgusted with giving his life and death to others, especially at this time.

"Give it to us one more time, one last time!" the wounded blue wolf warrior carried his long-handled battle axe, gritted his teeth and bowed his head in pain, "I promise to cut down that Turin flag for you, and stick its head on it!"

When he saw the black-haired boy riding on the blood wolf, the blue wolf warrior already understood—Asriel was only at the height of his anger. will be ready to go into battle in person.

After serving the little master for so many years, he had come to know a little about Asriel's habits—though the Great Wolf Chief seemed so calm. In fact, he was arrogant to the extreme, and unless it really reached the point where there was nothing he could do, he would not really do it himself, because for a tribal leader, this in itself would be extremely stupid.

"Even if you are given a hundred times, a thousand chances, you will not be able to kill him. Asriel shook his head rather calmly. With a lowered gaze, he looked at the Dominic scimitar with a silver light in his hand: "The only person who can kill him is me!"

On the battlefield down the hillside, the entire left flank army had done its best - the whole line was pulled for miles in the face of twice the army of the Blue Wolf Clan, and the hoplites with shields and spears and spears formed the first line of shield wall. The light infantry behind them rushed forward on all sides.

The only remaining mobile force in Edward's hands was the hoplite cavalry of more than two hundred squires and a small number of knights, waving the Blood Cross banner and ramming back and forth on the flat beach, crushing the wolf warriors before they could charge, scattering the entire line - which is why the Turineites have been able to hold out until now.

The soldiers on both sides of the narrow front were almost all crowded together, and there was not much chance to charge, and the warriors of the Blue Wolf Clan and the soldiers of the left flank legion who rushed to the front were close to each other, fighting back and forth in a straight line drawn with blood, the spears piercing into the gaps that could not even be retracted, and the heavy tomahawks did not even have time to be raised.

So, as long as you cut down that flag and completely annihilate his last mobile force, the battle will be won!

Asriel smirked - because the battlefield was too rough and narrow, he never used his Blood Wolf Cavalry, and these precious mobile forces should not be used here, but on the more important battlefield.

But now is the time to use it—Asriel gritted his teeth with a hideous expression, and this is not the first time.

"Warriors of the Blue Wolf Clan, warriors of the Vast Land!" Asriel, holding his long knife aloft, roared, looking at the equally hideous eyes, "Tell me, what do you want?"

"Blood Debt and Blood Repayment-!!!"

"Then charge with me and slay the damned scum of Turin, leaving not a single one behind!" the Great Chief of the Blue Wolf roared, and the first one rushed out, the roaring blood wolf rushing towards the battlefield below the hillside like an arrow, one by one, just like the gray meteors, leaving only the unintelligible afterimage on the hillside.

The sparse arrows didn't bring much damage to these blood wolf cavalrymen at all, only a few unlucky ghosts who rushed to the front screamed and fell down, but they didn't delay their speed at all, and rushed down the hillside with a fierce shout, the sharp scimitars and throwing spears seemed to be flashing bloodthirsty!

The blue wolf warriors, who had been at a stalemate because of the battle, became extremely fanatical after hearing the bloodthirsty roar of the blood wolf cavalry - because when the blood wolf cavalry was dispatched, it was when their great chief Asriel was dispatched!

The incomparably thin front, which had been dragged down, suddenly took on an unparalleled burden, and even if the hoplites with strong shields pressed the strength of their whole bodies, they couldn't stop the footsteps of those barbarian warriors who were charging wildly, and every step was drenched in blood, and there were countless stumps and broken arms!

"Attack, attack, kill them all, kill all the Turin dogs!" Asriel brandished his long knife, "For the sake of the land, blood debt and blood will be paid-!"

"Blood Debt and Blood Repayment-!!!"

The Blood Wolf Cavalry roared, screaming and rushing towards the direction of the Blood Cross Battle Banner, and the fierce momentum was unstoppable.

"Blood debt, blood payment—!" the black-haired boy roared, a smug smile appeared in the corner of his eye—he seemed to be a little impatient to see Edward's desperate expression, to see the painful and broken look when he faced a force that he could not resist at all.

But what he saw was another group of cavalry rushing in from outside the battlefield—hundreds, brandishing flaming eagle banners, galloping from the north side of the Eagle's Fall Mountain.

"For the Black Eagle Clan, for the Levantine Sacred Mountain—!" Iska, wielding his long knife, also roared.

"Long live Edward Witwood-!" (To be continued.) )