Amber Sword

Isn’t this the tactic of the Wind Elf Guard? Sir Franz lifted his head, leaving only a blank in his mind.

This was also his last thought in life.

In mid-air, spears fell like rain. One of them, with unmatched power, pierced through his heart in an instant before he could react. Until his death, the Captain of the Kingdom White Lion Legion’s First Swordsmen Group still maintained an expression of utmost surprise.

Shock.

Unwillingness.

And disbelief.

The Kingdom White Lion Legion, leaving behind a field of corpses, was retreating, but not in rout—it was forming a circle. The lower-level officers took over Sir Franz’s command. Although morale had greatly diminished, they still needed to fulfill the legion’s final mission.

The White Lion Legion will not cease until death.

Caglis was also greatly troubled by this scene. The Kingdom’s White Lion Legion might not be the strongest army, but it was definitely the most troublesome. Their honor ensured they would never retreat. However, they had only one chance and could not allow themselves to be entangled.

More than three Swordsmen Groups of the White Lion Legion were completing the encirclement against them. A second of delay would mean the difference between Hell and Heaven.

As soon as he and his Guard Knights touched down, they made the same decision in unison—to advance forward. They had to tear through the enemy’s ground to open a path for the Officer Cadets behind them.

The young men from Tonyger were all but desperate, but they were facing equally fearless opponents. Powerful swordsmanship could only stir up a wave of blood among the crowd. However, the pace of advance was still not enough, far from enough.

Caglis drew out the Lion Blade, his eyes almost bloodshot, and roared: "Push through them! Even if you have to crash, break through a path of blood for me. Listen up! You can only go forward, no retreat!"

"Roar!" Everyone was flushed with anger.

The White Lion Guard completely abandoned all defense, almost savagely moving only forward among the sea of people. Although the Kingdom White Lion Legion’s attacks could hardly injure them, those relentless soldiers held onto their arms and legs one by one, dragging them so they couldn’t advance an inch.

Caglis alone was holding off attacks from dozens of people. After just a moment of fighting, he felt he was pushing his limits. He gasped heavily, his breath condensing into mist under the helmet’s visor. The White Lion Guard also began to suffer casualties, with someone eventually being pinned by soldiers of the Kingdom White Lion Legion, who lifted their visor and stabbed them to death on the ground.

But the price was not without cost.

The position of the Kingdom White Lion Legion’s First Swordsmen Group finally began to waver.

Camer suddenly heard cheers from beside him. Looking around, he saw the cavalry’s formation spreading to the flanks, forming a thinner and wider impact formation.

This was about to start the charge, he suddenly thought. Indeed, the knights on both wings were accelerating, leading the way with raised banners.

Camer recognized those knights, the Silver Elf Female Knight, the red-haired ’Demon’—to the mountain people, those with red hair had demon bloodlines, Camer was no exception. Moreover, Qian’s combat style was indeed lackluster; mercenaries were notoriously fierce in battle.

Then there were the three knights of the Earl of Yan Castle. Camer couldn’t help but linger a little longer on the female knight. Following them were Breson of Brags, Senior Loka, and the cold-faced Miu Ke.

Under their lead, the cavalry formed a crescent shape; they were gradually accelerating, moving from a trot to a full gallop on their steeds.

The ground shook, rolling like thunder.

Camer heard someone shouting beside him: "Accelerate! Accelerate!"

"We’re already within the optimal shooting range!"

"If you don’t want to die, don’t stop!"

"Cavalry, accelerate, maintain formation!"

Before Camer could react, he felt someone bump into him. He turned back, seeing a black shadow brushing past him. He looked up, seeing only a black cloak fluttering in the wind.

And the high-raised, pitch-black, broad Sword Blade.

The Earth Sword Halangea.

It was ’Commander.’

This was how these Officer Cadets referred to that person. Camer couldn’t help but widen his eyes—was he also going to join the charge? In their impression, Brand should have been a commander who orchestrates strategies, not a knight charging at the front.