Rawlint was stunned.
The surrounding people also held their breaths.
The sword he saw seemed to no longer be a sword. It reflected his family, his ideals, and the great country he saw in his dreams.
In the midst of his chaotic thoughts, he firmly grasped the hilt of the sword.
At that moment, his body suddenly trembled, his eyes widening as he abruptly raised his head, "Sir, this sword …"
Brando nodded to him.
At that moment, the hesitation in Rawlint's heart seemed to disappear, and his face seemed to be filled with a sacred and solemn color.
The three Dragon Knight had already rushed in front of him, and the latter had already stepped in front of Brando to block him. The Dragon Knight did not recognize Rawlint, but even if they recognized him, he was holding a weapon in his hand.
It looked like a very ordinary longsword.
The three of them pointed their halberds at Rawlint, but the latter only blocked their path with a single slash, and actually counterattacked without defending. The Dragon Knight was shocked, thinking that this guy was crazy. The halberds in their hands clearly held the advantage in such a desperate battle.
But in the next moment, they stabbed empty air.
Rawlint's figure was still in the same place, and the halberds had already pierced through his body, but they did not feel like they had stabbed a physical body. An illusion? The Dragon Knight did not expect to experience such high level swordsmanship from an unknown opponent, but suddenly, one of them let out a blood-curdling scream.
A terrifying wound appeared on the chest of that Dragon Knight, blood gushing out. Under his frightened and disbelieving gaze, the longsword in the hands of Rawlint's illusion pierced through his heart.
This was —
"Nine Luminaries Sword Art."
Little Montoro was almost scared out of his wits. Ever since Count Trentheim became famous, his swordsmanship was gradually known by everyone, and the most legendary swordsmanship among them was none other than the long-lost inheritance of the Wind Elves.
Nine Luminaries Sword Art.
As expected, Roland's phantoms split into three. Although his swordsmanship wasn't as agile and talented as Petit-finis, nor was it as calm and composed as Phoenix Huo, his style was abnormally unyielding. It was like a gust of wind passing through, only attacking and not defending.
This style combined with the [Nine Luminaries Sword Art] actually displayed an unexpected battle prowess. Although the Dragon Knight was powerful, after unexpectedly losing one of their members, the remaining two were no match for such a legendary swordsmanship. Not to mention, the ordinary steel sword in Rolint's hand was like a godly weapon that could cut through iron like mud. After a few exchanges of blows, the halberds in their hands were reduced to short halberds.
In the next moment, Roland used the wounds on his abdomen and thigh to cleanly kill the two of them.
"Rolant, your swordsmanship …" Little Montolo shouted in disbelief, "Heavens, what have you experienced in the past few months?"
Rolint himself seemed to have woken up from a dream. His body was bathed in blood, and he was so excited that he couldn't control himself.
"Milord, this sword?"
"It's called faith," Brando replied, "In front of true faith, there's nothing in this world that can't be broken."
Rolint lowered his head, deep in thought.
Brando didn't even look at the Dragon Knight that was coming from other directions, and said to little Montolo, "Clint ', why did you come to Tónigel?"
"Of course it's for the Count, for Erouine!"
Little Montolo answered without hesitation.
Brando nodded, and took out another longsword. When the longsword passed through his hand, it was similarly sharp. He handed the sword to the little boy and said:
"This is your Erouine, go fight for it."
"But."
Little Montolo looked in the direction of the square. Although everything that happened here today confused him, he still hesitated.
Brando turned around, his back facing the Dragon Knight, and faced little Montolo.
He said to the little boy sternly: "I'm very grateful for your loyalty and trust, Clint ', but go fight for yourself. A Knight should be loyal to his own ideal-"
Little Montolo's eyes widened.
He looked at the young man in front of him in disbelief. At that moment, he finally remembered why he found this wizard familiar.
Because his portrait, his statue, was in every corner of Castle Abies.
"You … …"
Brendel smiled faintly.
"Be careful!" Little Montolo suddenly saw the Dragon Knight launching an attack behind Brando. He subconsciously took the longsword and blocked the enemy.
But at that moment.
It was as if the sky and earth of the square had dimmed. In the darkness, the only thing people could see was a straight silver line extending forward, dividing the world into two.
When little Montolo came back to his senses, his enemies had all fallen to the ground. All of their wounds were on their throats.
"This is … …"
"Flash Strike Sword Art."
The young man finally reacted and screamed, "Damn it, why do you know Flash Strike Sword Art!?"
"In this world, there are many people who have mastered this kind of skill and knowledge," Brando turned around again and looked up at him calmly, "It's not only the Bugas who are worthy of pride. Although the Silver Folk are favored by the heavens, it's a pity that your actions have tarnished such glory."
This sentence finally made the young man feel a chill that went deep into his bones.
He looked back at Sir Roseburn and roared, "Who the hell is he, and how does he know all this?"
But the young man suddenly stopped talking because he saw the originally proud All for One believer, Sir Roseburn, had a pale face and his gums were chattering.
He finally understood why he did not get a response from the other party before.
"Damn it, do you have to be so afraid, he's just a mortal," the young man could not help but rage. He turned back and looked at Brando coldly, "I admit that you've turned the tables, human, but this is where your ignorance lies. You know who we are and still dare to show up. I admire your courage, and I'll let you see why the Bugas are called Silver Folk Wizards!"
"Kill him!" The young man roared.
Suddenly, seven or eight Wizards in gray robes rose from the buildings around the square. But looking at these colleagues, the young man was not happy at all. He did not intend to use these backup forces, which meant that their methods of bewitching people were completely ineffective.
But the effect of killing the Count was the same, it would just be a little embarrassing.
When little Montolo saw these Wizards, he could not help but scream, "Gray Wizards! Count, go quickly, they are the elite Wizards of the Saasaldians! "
But next to him, Rawlint could not help but grin. He had seen the mentor of these seven or eight Gray Wizards. And that man was now imprisoned in the Druid's tree prison in the Loop of Trade Winds, and he was almost half crazy.
Brando looked at the young man calmly, as if he did not see the threat in the sky. He opened his mouth and replied, word by word.
"This is what I want to say to you, Saasaldian. The account between me and you has just begun to be settled —"
"Arrogant!"
The young man felt that this guy was simply unreasonable. He tore off the mask on his face and threw it to the ground. Although his appearance was changed to be exactly the same as Brando's with illusion, people could see that this man's eyes had a layer of silver irises.
That was the most distinctive feature of the Silver Folk, which could not be concealed even with magic, just like their blood.
There was a burst of exclamations in the square.
And it was at this time that the Gray Wizards in the air finally launched their attack.
Chants intertwined in the air above the square, and silver lightning flashed. The square was filled with screams, and the people panicked once again.
But Brando only glanced at this scene indifferently.
He turned his hand and inserted Halran Gaia into the ground of the square, and another longsword appeared in his hand. When the young man saw that sword, he felt the hair all over his body stand on end.
It was a thin sword less than three feet long, with a thin blade that seemed to flicker with a pale blue light. Its guard was an ice sculpture of a fairy spreading its wings and about to fly. Its spread wings wrapped around the hilt of the holy sword.
The sword's hammer was a gem called Frost Storm.
The young man had only heard of the sword's name in legends.
It was the Soul of the Shallow Sea, the azure holy sword, the Frost Chant — Cinna. He had once asked his mentor the meaning of the sword's name, but the white-haired old man looked at him as if he was an idiot and told him:
"When you face this sword, you will understand the meaning of its name."
The young man felt that he was really an idiot at this moment.
He raised his head and screamed at his colleagues in the air, "Get out of the way!"
But it was too late. Brando swung the holy sword upwards, and snowflakes were falling from the sky above Castle Abies. When the sword pointed to the sky, the snowstorm suddenly reversed, and even the snow on the ground was lifted up, forming an inverted glacier.
And the ice and snow in the sky seemed to be controlled by an invisible hand. The north wind screamed, and it was like the melodious song of the legendary Ice Queen.
When the blue light swept across the entire sky, the Gray Mages did not even have time to react. They realized that the Lines of Law that they were controlling had also been frozen. Their magical light shields were frozen into solid powder in the extreme cold, and the powder fell to the ground.
Their faces still maintained the last moment of surprise, and then their bodies exploded, turning into dry snow powder and scattered on the ground.
Brando put down the sword.
The snowstorm stopped in an instant.
The dark clouds in the sky parted, and a ray of sunlight fell on the square.
At that moment, the whole square was silent. Everyone, including Rowant and Little Montolo, looked at this scene in a daze.
… …
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