The miscellaneous soldiers of the Holy Legion were defeated.

Defeated, they retreated like a tide, and the knights of the guards, who were rushing into a mass, could no longer form a formation.

Pan Long, who could only support himself, immediately seized the opportunity and rushed out of more than a dozen steps in one breath like an arrow from the string, completely breaking out of the encirclement.

His heart finally relaxed, knowing that the enemy would never have a chance to besiege him again.

Only then did he have time to look back, and he saw the village chief with a spear, his white hair fluttering in the wind, and looking at him with an awe-inspiring expression.

Seeing Pan Long looking back at him, the village chief smiled and raised his right hand clenched into a fist to him, his thumb raised high.

Pan Long also smiled and gave a thumbs up.

Their hearts are full of pride.

With just a dozen villagers, facing two or three hundred regular troops, including the elite of the Holy Legion, and even one of the four great generals of the empire, the "Holy One" Celes himself.

With such a huge disparity, the final result was that they won.

Of course, we should be proud to win such a victory!

Anyone who has such an achievement is worthy of pride, worthy of showing off to others after drinking, and even worthy of passing on the heroism of their ancestors to future generations.

The battle of the villagers is almost over here.

But Pan Long's battle is not yet there.

The rout of the miscellaneous soldiers only bought him a precious respite, and the space to divide and destroy those fanatical knights.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that cannot be missed.

The sword flashed, and another guard knight stabbed a sword in his throat.

These knights of the guards were all well-armed, and their armor was thick and heavy. The Sword of Slaughter does not have the characteristics of cutting iron and piercing armor, so there is no way to take this armor, so there are not many parts that can be attacked.

Fortunately, their neck guards were not thick enough, and the masks on their faces were not thick enough, and Pan Long was still able to pierce them with a sword.

Therefore, the points of his attacks were concentrated in the throat and the center of the eyebrows, and the guards knights who died under him were all swords in these two positions.

The Guards were well-trained, and after being killed a few in succession, the rest reacted, and they all protected their faces and throats with their weapons or simply with their hands, so that Pan Long could not find a gap to attack.

If it weren't for the chaotic army breaking up their formation, Pan Long might have been surrounded and killed just now.

But now, the situation on both sides has reversed.

Pan Long's feet did not stop, relying on his speed to be faster than these heavily armed knights, and he opened a certain distance from them, resolutely not allowing them to have a chance to close in.

As he ran, he kept attacking. The sword flashed, stabbing the guards again and again. Although most of them were blocked by heavy armor and could not achieve much effect, it at least effectively prevented them from reorganizing their formation, and from time to time they found an opportunity to stab or even stab one to death.

According to his estimates, by the time the rebels had completely run away in a few minutes, he would have already killed the last of the knights.

In fact, even now, there are less than ten guard knights who can still stand up.

With such a formation, the threat to Pan Long is no longer great.

Just as he was considering whether to change his style of play and defeat these last few enemies with a hard bridge, he suddenly felt a warning in his heart.

Without even thinking about it, he immediately pulled back and took five or six steps back in one breath.

A few cold rays of light whistled past where he had been standing, almost hitting him.

But it wasn't over yet, and immediately after, a frost mark snaked on the ground, and it seemed that an invisible frost snake was rushing towards him.

(Ice Archery!Soul Eater!)

Pan Long had seen these spells in the game at the beginning, and he recognized them at a glance.

Without saying a word, he grabbed one of the routs who had fled by his side with one hand and threw it at the snaking frost mark.

The rout screamed and flew in front of the frost mark, and in the air, which originally looked like nothing, black smoke suddenly rose up, revealing a big snake thicker than the arm of a strong man, and bit him, and before he could react, his body wrapped up fiercely and tightened hard.

Then, the black smoke burst out, the serpent vanished, and there was only a distorted corpse on the ground, covered in frost.

Pan Long saw that his scalp was numb, and the ice archery technique was just that, the Soul Eater Snake was a skill that only the Demon God Warlock could only have at the advanced level of the evil warlock, and he couldn't imagine that Thles actually had such a master by his side!

Fortunately, the sorcerers' brains are not very useful, otherwise, if this guy had taken advantage of his own siege just now, he would have been a soul eater......

Oh, that's fine, at that time, a group of people around me, the Soul Eater snake could only bite the guard knight when it swam over.

Thinking of this, Pan Long couldn't help but be a little amused.

I can't imagine that being surrounded has this benefit!

But laughing aside, those three sorcerers still have to find a way to solve it.

It's just two who use ice archery, especially the one who can cast the Soul Eater Snake, you must kill him!

Warlocks are walking calamities that destroy wherever they go. The greater the power, the more destructive it will be.

If a sorcerer is left unchallenged to wreak havoc, it only takes a few days to turn a bustling town into a dead city infested with living corpses and ghosts.

It's even more terrifying than any T-virus or something!

After looking left and right for a while, Pan Long thought of a good solution.

He took several steps to the side, walked past the side of a heavily armored rout, grabbed the man's arm with his left hand, twisted it hard, shook his weapon out of his hand, and slammed the hilt of his sword into his face with his right hand, knocking him unconscious.

That's a good shield.

Double-layer metal, embedded shock absorption, and a certain anti-magic effect.

It's just a little heavier......

Holding this "shield", Pan Long rushed towards the two carriages.

Ice arrows condensed and formed in the air, whistling and stabbing at them, but they were all blocked by him with his "shield". The rout woke up in pain, screamed and screamed in a language that Pan Long couldn't understand.

Of course, Pan Long will not refute, everyone has to sacrifice themselves as a living shield, and it is reasonable to scold two sentences.

...... What's more, he doesn't know what the other party is scolding, does he want to scold in the northern dialect?

So he chose not to say a word, and he didn't hear it.

Of course, he will not sympathize, from top to bottom of the Holy Legion, there is not even a single good person, everyone should be killed!

In the pursuit of several guard knights behind, he rushed dozens of steps in one breath among the running routs, during which he used his "living shield" to block several waves of sorcerers' spells, and Pan Long finally rushed to the front of the two carriages.

By this time, the heavily armored routs that had become "dead shields" were useless.

He smashed the corpse at the carriage with two warlocks, and pounced himself directly on the one with only one warlock.

People are in the air, and ice arrows are shooting at them.

There was no way to dodge this time, he gritted his teeth, waved his left arm to block, and at the same time as he fell into the carriage, he swung his sword.

The sorcerer, who also had nowhere to escape, screamed and fell, his body twitched slightly, but the cold poison in his body could no longer be contained, and it escaped, freezing the surrounding area into a block of red and green ice.

Pan Long, on the other hand, had already rushed out from the other side of the carriage, not only dodging the weapons thrown from behind, but also going around to the back of the other carriage.

This time, he didn't rush in, but took a deep breath, put away the sword of slaughter, tied his feet to the horse, and put his hands in the most standard posture when practicing.

About two seconds later, with a roar of rage, a thunderous sound exploded, and the carriage split in half, and the two sorcerers inside who were casting spells widened their eyes and flew out with blood.

Two palm prints, deep into their chests.

Pan Long first used the method of listening to the wind to determine the position of the enemy, and then directly blasted out the mountain with the most powerful iron palm, which really worked in one fell swoop.

Two sorcerers flew away with two palms, and he didn't even bother to glance at the two trapeze, drew his sword again, and slew at the last few of the guards.

The two crispy mages, who were hit by the iron palm of the Pan family in the chest, are really ghosts if they survive!

The warlock was also dead, and there were not a few knights left, and the soldiers were scattered again, and all that was left of this battle was simple killing.

Pan Long showed no mercy to his subordinates, and swung the sword of slaughter, each sword carrying a trace of blood.

He didn't have the slightest mercy, he shot extremely ruthlessly, and when he passed with a sword, his opponent was only dead and not injured.

The guys of the Holy Legion, how can they not be killed!

His ferocious slaughter made the routs of the Holy Legion panic more and more, and they fled more scattered.

The Holy Legion was originally a garbage heap of all kinds of scum, and if it weren't for the fact that Thleus was restrained by the benefits of burning and looting and the ruthless ferocity of the hot hands, they would have been scattered in every minute. At this moment, Cyleus was dead, and the knights of the guards were also defeated, and even the sorcerers were killed, and of course they scattered and fled, and not even one of them dared to look back.

Even if these rabble were not flustered, they would have no enemy in front of him. Not to mention that they are already flustered, they are simply chopping melons and vegetables. For a while, the screams continued one after another, and I don't know how many Pan Long killed.

killed so many people in one go, but Pan Long was not the slightest nervous. Although he was a law-abiding citizen in his previous life, he is a Northland man who is known for his fierceness in this life. For more than ten years, he has been exposed to it and practiced it, all of which are the set of Northland people who are full of martial virtues.

Is there an enemy in front of you? Yes. Then kill them all!

Is it the enemy that is being killed? Yes. No matter how much you kill, it's just enough to be seeded, powerful, and have face!

The people of the Northland do not kill innocents indiscriminately, but they are also not merciful, on the battlefield, they are as cold as the cold wind of the moon, and they have always been afraid of the enemy.

Even those people from the north who believe in Buddhism, they usually eat fasting and chant Buddha, and they don't even kill a rabbit, but if anyone thinks that they are weak and easy to bully, it is wrong - take Pan Long's uncle Pan Meng as an example, the weapon he used in battle was a pair of thick iron rods two feet long, and the head of the stick was slightly enlarged, which looked like two long-handled hammers.

That weapon may not kill a river of blood, but it can still kill the enemy.

Pan Long has seen this clan uncle more than once chanting "Amitabha, good and good", while wielding an iron rod to beat the robbers like a mosaic, he also once asked if this is not in line with the Buddhist doctrine of compassion, and Pan Meng replied very calmly: "I left them all corpses, I think it is very compassionate." ”

The compassion of the Northlanders is roughly like this.

Strictly speaking, Pan Long is actually relatively soft-hearted among the Northlanders. For example, he killed and watched the rest of the rout run away, and he had no intention of chasing and killing.

The last few of the knights had already been killed by him, and they were all lying around him at the moment, a pool of blood.

Standing in this pool of blood, Pan Long looked at the last dozens of figures who fled in a hurry, and suddenly felt a little excited.

In today's fierce battle, this fight, he really killed enough, and he was tired of killing.

"I only understand today why the ancients had a saying that 'the hands of the killers are soft'. He sighed deeply and said, "I did kill so hard that my hands were weak......