The Amber Sword

The distance between the heavens and the earth has become narrow and wide in Brando's field of view, with the forehand spear hand lowering its centre of gravity and the shining helmet sinking in turn, like a spear rising from a sea of helmets. He overheard Beth's voice as sharp as a sea monster ‘shooting ——' a feather arrow crossing their head and turning into a black dot falling far away.

The Northern Coalition queues appear to be a wave of blue and white, with a series of explosions. Continuous explosions flashed, the sound of a tsunami connected, and sharp airflow seemed to instantly cross the distance of dozens of meters, impinging on his armor with an incomplete metal ring, Tink Bell.

With a bright light, Brando couldn't help but squint his eyes. The lightweight infantry on his front had begun to enter the final assault, and their front was completely in an arc, crossing the shallow beach of the mountain stream, disintegrating crystals exploding under their feet, raising a cluster of water columns, constantly having young faces falling in the fog, while his companions continued to advance across his body. Around 50 metres from the left and right sides, amidst the dense forest at the northern foot of Mount Vireco, the Finn and Constantine infantry appeared hidden beneath the tree crown, but a flash of explosion blew in the woods - almost all the arrows were projected onto the two hills by the archers, not to worry about accidental injuries - and the deafening noise of the explosion almost turned the ground upside down, with the black pine branches torn apart by the waves, lifting and falling on one side with the flags of the two Northern Allies.

A few flashes of light also suddenly erupted in the distance of the battlefield.

Brando immediately understands what it is, a magic attack! The Northern Allied wizard joined the battle, and at several points the flames instantly crossed thousands of meters, turning his eyes into a skull-sized fireball, but the light blue water curtain on one side spread over the aristocratic private squares, and the fireball hit the water curtain, turning into countless red flaming seedlings scattered.

But the blast caused a disturbance among Count Odin's militiamen, and the formation began to loosen up in chaos. Brando had a bad cry and was trying to inspire morale, but a clear and calm voice rang first.

“Don't back off, I'm here! I'm with you, fighting alongside you!” Her Royal Highness's voice was firm and accommodating, but the young girl held onto her blade handle and pale hands revealed her true mood.

“Your Highness!” Brando suddenly turned around and saw Princess Griffin not far from herself.

Princess Griffin glanced at him and her silver eyes filled with anxiety. But she turned back and shouted solemnly: "I am the princess of Eruin! I'll be here today and let our blood flow together!” The majesty of the royal family is still extremely infectious among ordinary people, and seeing Her Royal Highness standing behind herself, the disturbances of the aristocratic militias miraculously subsided.

Freya also stepped forward to join the first platoon, pulling out her sword and standing alongside the noble militias. The young girl from Bucci Country, although not inspiring by words and deeds, how could men leave their position and leave her alone in the face of the army as long as she had not taken a step back from holding the Lion Heart Sword in her hands?

Following her, a handful of cadets from the Royal Knights College who remained in the central position led by example, stood at the forefront of the queue. No one spoke, but they seemed to have an indescribable spirit, and at that moment Brando's heart was pounding and his blood was boiling.

He laid down the sword of the earth, placed it in front of his chest and looked forward with his head raised. The blue and white waves of the first line are passing through the smoke belt created by the explosion, and the Northern Allies' light infantry has crossed the beach, close by.

Viscount von Doughnin passed through the explosion in agony, spitting out the sand in his mouth. He raised his head and glanced through the colour of the fireworks, strangely seeing Count Odin's aristocratic militia just recovering from the commotion. “The other side also has a brilliant officer...” This thought flashed in his head.

The two armies crashed into each other.

The noble militiamen stretched out their spears in full, and before the trident in the hands of the heavy light infantry in the front reached them, they had been stabbed. The sharp spear apex pierced the sloping armor of the light infantry, and they buried a row of them on the ground. In the distance, the Burai collapsed like a row of wheat.

The aristocratic militia took a step back, but the second platoon of Bure infantry had stabbed in through Spear Forest with the trident in their hand. However, all of these triumphs hit the shield in vain, and the aristocratic militia in the rear row threw spears through the gap between the shields and accurately stabbed the leaking fish to the ground.

But the light infantry in the rear platoon proceeded, crossing the corpses of their companions. The aristocratic militia had to continue to retreat, although the front-line officers screamed ‘retreat', as shocks in all directions were not consistent! Back off! 'But a continuous cross section continues to appear on the front of the first row.

Brando was shouting badly, but found that Bullet Light Infantry across the street didn't use these sections well, and they kept pushing blindly, and then he responded with a slap in the head, commanding nothing but an aristocratic private army. The other side is nothing more than a second-line regiment of light human infantry that can't be counted as first-class.

He's relieved, he's a little too nervous. After all, this is the year of the sword, and the battlefield is not surrounded by those famous and noisy soldiers of future generations. He calmed down a bit, raised his head and saw a stacked helmet, a shield tip, a spear tip and a flag in the ocean, with a dragon ranger swimming out of formation in the distance.

“It's that guy...”

Brando is aware that the other side is waiting for opportunities, waiting for the cross section to expand further to the opportunities that Rangers can seize.

He looked subconsciously towards the northern foothills of Mount Machenko and Mount Villeco, while Von Doughnin was doing the same. The young Viscount, riding on the back of the pedestrian dragon, watched the fronts of the Finn and Constantine columns appear on the edge of the woods - just ahead of them, on the left and right flanks of the three arrays of aristocratic militias.

“Huh, moving faster than expected.” Viscount von Doughnin was slightly overwhelmed, and he knew exactly what the Finns and Constantine were like, but he didn't expect the other side to go through the explosion with his scalp hard at a critical moment.

God help Sifah.

But Brando's mind flashed when he saw the same scene, and he thought, "Beth, you did a good job. ”

The array of aristocratic militias slowly retreated one step behind Mount Alk, while the previously retreating Gray Fin Naga Guard and Royal Knights College cadets soon appeared on their wings at the southern foot of Mount Alk-

Viscount von Doughnin instantly understood what Brando wanted. Focus the dominant forces on the left and right flanks, lure in and defeat the Northern Allies' protrusions in Machenko and Mount Villeco, bringing the bule infantry's main force together to complete the encirclement, "Flag Language,” Viscount von Doughning immediately ordered: "Hold Viscount Finn and Baron Constantine and tell them the victory is on the horizon, no worries, despite the full force. ”

He paused, "Transmitting my order to Count Vitokin, preferably asking him to give the same order again. ”

The ordered cavalry immediately left backwards.

The battle has gradually become white-hot...

Due to repeated shocks, the formation of aristocratic militias has begun to tilt to one side slowly, as if a huge piece of butter had begun to melt and a corner had lagged behind. Viscount von Doughnin grasped the change with acumen, pointing the spear to the flanks of the aristocratic militia and shouting: "Focus on the left-wing square, defeat their main line first, victory is ours! ”

Brando heard Count Odin howling behind himself: "Watch out for that Ranger and don't expose his flanks to them!” For the first time, he felt that the crisis was approaching and that the other side was a famous general in history, and if he was merely in command of the army, he might not really be his opponent.

“Mr. Brando," Griffy trembled slightly because of the excessive force of her sword-shaking hands, as the white face of the princess became red. She immediately looked around, surrounded by enemies, as if in a sea of oceans, endless: “The left wing can't hold on! ”

Brando nodded at her only.

“Nimmasis,” he turned back and shouted.

“Yes!”

“Command is over to you. ”

Nimaisie turned around, her black hair flickered, and Brando saw the strange colour in her eyes. But the knight didn't ask much, just nodded.

“Mr. Brando, you...?” Her Royal Highness said slightly: “What are you going to do? ”

Brando was turning the horse's head, and the princess's surprise led all the junior sergeants and even the knights to turn around, surprised to see their commander off the line, one man racing to the left.

What's he gonna do?

The left-wing squares of noble militia, under the pressure of the coalition forces, are awkwardly retreating, and a section becomes loose and gradually squeezed into a small triangle. And as long as Von Doughning's dragon cavalry goes around the flank, the collapse seems to be just a matter of time.

It's irretrievable.

Commander, are you out of your mind?

The same is true of Viscount von Doughnin, who, although he did not see Brando, has not yet abandoned the left wing to converge the central formation. The reaction was too slow, and he couldn't help laughing, perhaps too arrogant.

No matter how intelligent the command may be, a qualified army is also required to carry it out. Those royal cadets have no idea what a real war is like.

He has seen the flanks of the aristocratic militia, and even the panicked face of the hillbilly infantry. That panicked face is exactly the same as the one on the beast face of Quetonin, and it's just an instinctive reaction to life before it faces despair.

The Rangers leveled the spear and started accelerating.

The ground grew slightly chestnut, and every time the dragon's giant claws came into contact with the ground, the pebbles on the beach seemed to be infused with magic rolling over, dancing - the dry dust rose to form smoke. But a brilliant mounting gun cut the smoke out - Viscount von Doughnin buried low and stabbed the long gun in his hand towards each other's formation with a beastly howl.

The huge impact force penetrated the oval shield directly, but the Rangers continued to accelerate, with the dragon crashing through the shield with its weight advantage. The squares of aristocratic militias suddenly collapsed and began to retreat.

It was not until this moment that Viscount von Doughnin realized that he had held victory in his hands. Next, Odin's left-wing defeat will sweep across the princess's position, and the buried light infantry and his rangers will split the battlefield, just as they did to those stupid lions on the battlefield in the East.

But this is exactly the time.

He heard a distant call.

It was called as if it had come from the reckless jungle, from the endless wilderness. At that moment the young Viscount seemed to have hallucinations, seeing the earth dark, beneath the silver moon. Giant wolf in Mercedes.

A long trumpet was sounded, then the mountain forest shook, and the wolf howled as if it had penetrated the reckless forest between moments, penetrating time and distance, from far to near, over the entire battlefield.

“Wolf?”

A shadow overshadowed the sun above Viscount von Doughnin, who raised his head and saw the colossal giant jump, the black fur gleaming in the sun, and the blood-red eyeballs with a cold killing intent. It was after noon, but the young Viscount felt no warmth and just cold.

He subconsciously raised the spear, and it pierced that giant black wolf's fur, revealing the thick bone plate underneath —— no, that was rock. The spear tip drew a spark on the rock, not an illusion, but a real existence.

Viscount von Dougnin clearly noticed that the black wolf had turned away from his attack in the middle of the sky, passing with him and landing not far from the dragon.

“Such a powerful force…” Viscount von Doughnin felt his hands tremble slightly because of excessive force. And he looked up and saw the shadows of the foothills of the Alks, hundreds of pairs of scarlet eyes appearing, the wolves running between the woodlands, apparently rushing in their direction.

“It's a wolf! ”

“So many wolves!” Behind him, Bure's infantry also found their new enemy in the first place. In fact, all over the battlefield, you see a black wolf tide pouring in from one side of the battlefield, and the edge of the forest opens a black light door, and those giant beasts are leaping from one end to the other.

“What a mess it is,” Viscount von Doughnin finally reacted and couldn't help but scold. But he didn't have time to think more, as the cavalry was speeding up the attack. He looked back at the black wolf he was fighting, who had been dumped far behind by the dragon, and it seemed unintentional to chase them, but turned around and rushed to the infantry behind him.

And countless black wolves are doing the same thing all over the battlefield. As if it were a well-run and disciplined army. No, in fact, the real army is not in a position to do so effectively.

Viscount von Doughnin's heart was tight, and suddenly he realized that these wolves might not be as simple as monsters in the mountains and woods —— was it Druid? No, Druid doesn't control monsters.

Bure's infantrymen suddenly shouted.

The Viscount raised his head immediately, and at that moment he could not believe what he saw. The black wolf tide is separating from the left and the right, as if to give way to a road that, in the middle of the road, passes through the wolf herd one by one.

That's Brando.

Brando was looking up at him, too.

A dark crystal on the forehead is slowly emerging, flashing with a different light.

Brando put his main position here, believing not in Odin's militia, but in himself. With one man, the enemy, it's not impossible.

And now he's telling the Viscount the truth.

Me, the left wing.

The sky was slightly lit, and countless fine spiders, sparkling with blue light, were rising from the forest, turning their eyes to form a huge array of light behind Brando. All the Bure infantry couldn't help but look at the scene slightly, and a day ago their Feilong cavalry experienced the power of these little things, but now —— it's their turn.

Brandoeon stood on the horse's back with only one finger forward with his sword.

A golden red light rain leaned down in the direction of his sword, and the front-line terrain dragon rangers were pierced one by the other, hundreds of knights, almost turning their eyes into flying ash. But to his slight disappointment, Viscount von Doughnin was cautious, and at the moment when the windy spider floated, he turned around with a few guards and ran away from the blow.

After all, the attack by the Windy Spider was somewhat delayed. When Brando went looking for each other again, the other had already mixed into Bullet's Light Infantry Battalion and even left his mount behind - which made him too greedy to insist that the guy was afraid to die, and he didn't know how Freya killed each other.

But that was not unexpected. After all, the guy who didn't dare to fight him at the time in Ambesseur had little courage to think about it. You know, it's a lot of people in the aristocracy who have to fight their opponents to defend their honor, even to die.

Brando shook his head and did not continue to order the Windy Spider to attack the Boulevard Infantry. He knew that the battle was far from over and that the elements could stay a little bit. And these enemies in front of us, there are no more threats.

In front of him, a coalition of black wolves and leopards, the 'army', is colliding hard with the lightweight infantry of the Bure. But hundreds of silver, black wolves and leopards at the top of the black iron will resist thousands of armies in this direction.

Brando is waiting for a chance.

And the commanders of Bule are waiting for Finn and Constantine to complete their siege.

Brando couldn't bear to look up.

In his field of view are the mountains of Machenko and Villeco, surrounded by intense explosions.

Viscount Finn was staring at Count Vitokin's servant in front of him in this deafening explosion, and he yelled and tried to overwhelm the terrible explosion: “What are you talking about? ”

“You say the Count asked me to attack? Full force? ”

The waiter nodded.

“Yes, my lord, Lord von Doughning has truly reported to the Count your risking your lives to put forward the battle in the first place, and the Count has praised the tenacity of the Finn Column, but both adults hope that you will invest further in the front line of reinforcement, and the victory is on the horizon. ”

Both were screaming loudly, as if it was the only way to hear each other's words. The whole hill was trembling, as if the next moment was going to blow up in the sky.

But Viscount Finn's face revealed an incredibly strange spectacle. When did he put his forward into battle? Didn't his vanguard fall in the first blow? The ‘spells’ of the other party were terrible, and he had never seen such constant ‘spells’.

“Lord Viscount? ”

“This…”

Viscount Finn didn't know what to say for a moment. How to say it?

……

(PS: 5000 word chapters! Tickets! Ooh, all kinds of tickets!) (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote on recommendations, monthly tickets (qidian.com), and your support is my biggest motivation.)