The Elven commander took off his golden helmet and shook his head, letting his beautiful silver hair flow down like a waterfall. He then let out a long sigh. His pale silver eyes stared coldly at the mess on the battlefield. The lizardmen's corpses were scattered among the ruins, and their blood flowed like a small stream. The air was filled with a pungent smell. This smell was enough to make most normal people nauseous, but to the elven warriors who were bathed in blood, it was the smell of victory that floated in the air.
No, it was far from victory.
Hewjil ran away, and his men wanted to chase after him, but Nalaethar stopped them. The Elven commander sheathed his gold-plated sword into its scabbard and ordered his men to gather and prepare for the next step of the operation. His orders were decisive and precise, without the slightest hesitation.
At the same time, he saw the Nightsong Tiger leading another group of Elves over from the other side of the battlefield.
It was not the first time the Nightsong Tiger had seen Nalaethar, but he could not help but be taken aback. Nalaethar exuded an aura of beauty after the bloody battle. He was already a little too feminine to begin with, but the bloodstains on his golden armor made for a jarring contrast. Coupled with the Silver Elves' traditional long silver hair and cold expression on his face, he gave off a demonic allure.
"Commander," the Nightsong Tiger was taken aback, but he quickly reacted: "The battle here is over."
"Yes." Nalaethar nodded.
He turned around. The gray flag in the direction of the ceremonial hall was still fluttering high, but no one knew the extent of the battle there.
"But it is far from victory." Nalaethar replied: "We will follow the original plan and return the way we came. I hope that your Lord will fulfill his promise and not play with his life."
"Wait," the Nightsong Tiger interrupted: "My Lord's original order was not like this."
Nalaethar looked down at him.
"You saw that monster yourself. Even if we were at our peak, we would still need to fight three against one to not be at a disadvantage. Do you really believe that your Lord can hold it off for more than half an hour? " The Silver Elf Commander asked coldly, "Mr. Captain, the way I judge a battle is to win. On the battlefield against the Dark Dragon, there is no room for mercy. "
"But …"
"I don't have time to discuss this with you. I'm just reporting our actions to our allies as usual." "In other words, Lady Amandina or your lord. In my opinion, the latter is far more important than the former. Which side do you choose?" The Elven commander replied.
The Nightsong Tiger fell silent and looked at Amandina's direction.
Nalaethar shook his head. "Alright, human. Let me explain. Metisha sacrificed her life for this reason. It may seem strange to you, but in our history, forgiving ourselves is giving up hope for tomorrow. I hope you can understand this." He lowered his head and whispered: "I've already asked for Miss Amandina's permission in private."
With that, he stood up and waved his hand.
"Phoenix Guards, prepare to depart!"
…
Just as Nalaethar and the Nightsong Tiger expected, the first battle under Amandina's command did not go well. Since there was no place to defend, the Lizardmen quickly broke through the first wall. There were no obvious obstacles, and the mercenaries were exposed to the enemy's crossbowmen. Even if they retaliated from afar, it was difficult to form a large group.
But at this moment, the Mercenaries of Lopes' tenacious fighting spirit was undeniable. Under the attacks of the three mercenaries at the outermost perimeter and the enemies that outnumbered them by thirty, they lost their positions three times in a row. The Lizardmen's attacks were so dense that Amandina's two orders for reinforcements were blocked halfway. The last remaining mercenary detonated the only Exploding Crystal he had, causing the largest number of Lizardmen casualties since the start of the battle.
About fifteen lizardmen collapsed on the stairs between the first and second outer walls.
But after that, the battle became bloody. The Mercenaries of Lopes and the Lizardmen engaged in a cruel tug-of-war. Almost every stronghold that could be defended was fought over by both sides. After a 22: 4 exchange, the Lizardmen finally broke through the outer wall and began to attack the central platform outside the altar hall.
It had been nineteen minutes since the start of the battle, and ten minutes since the first contact from the rear.
The mercenaries began to shrink back, but this was not a long-term plan. The space left for them to shrink back gradually became narrower. Amandina was behind them.
An arrow brushed past her fair face as it flew past.
Blood quickly seeped out from her cut skin, but she did not feel it at all. She held the flagpole with both hands and stood firmly at the edge of the platform. She was calculating the time and the changes in the battle. She was waiting for an opportunity. But every mercenary's death on the battlefield made her heart sink. Brendel had never had any casualties when he was leading them, but it had only been ten minutes since he handed them over to her, and the number of casualties had already reached this point.
This was especially so when the little elven girl named Tia rushed over to block the fatal arrow for her. This noble daughter who had never personally experienced any war almost felt the tears in her eyes bursting out uncontrollably. But she bit her lips tightly and endured it. She used one hand to place the pale Elven girl on the ground. Her body was still warm, as if she had just fallen asleep.
Amandina felt someone pass her a handkerchief.
She turned her head in surprise and saw Felaern looking at her calmly. She was the elder sister of the dead girl.
"You're injured, Miss Amandina."
"No, it's fine …" Amandina took a deep breath and choked out: "I'm sorry …"
Felaern's pink lips moved. She wanted to say something, but she held back. Brando did not say anything, and she could not speak so easily either.
"Please give the flagpole to me, Miss Amandina. It's not safe here." She hesitated for a moment and said.
Amandina shook her head.
"No, this is my position." This was her promise to Brando. She told herself that she had to keep it.
The Lizardmen had already broken through the fourth line of defense, and the mercenaries retreated once more. Both sides were close to the slope formed by the collapse of the platform. From the distance, it was less than fifty meters. Felaern saw that the Lizardmen's crossbowmen had already raised their crossbows and aimed at the sky. Their accuracy was not high, but after repeated attempts, they were able to pinpoint the position under the flag.
She frowned and stood in front of Amandina, one hand holding onto the thin Elven sword at her waist. Like her sister, she did not have any spells left, but even so, she still had to complete her mission.
"Felaern."
"Yes?"
"Thank you …" Amandina coughed and said softly.
She smiled faintly, but her eyes fell back to the ground. Her expression quickly became serious again. The lizardmen tightened their crossbows, and a series of creaking noises could be heard from their group. But when they raised their crossbows again, she was not sure if she could block all the bolts. She gritted her teeth and unconsciously gripped the hilt of her sword.
She raised her crossbow.
Amandina and Felaern both felt their breath catch in their throat. Even if they were prepared to face death, they would still feel a sense of despair when they were about to face it head-on. But it seemed that the scene they imagined did not happen, because a small shining crystal suddenly flew out from behind them. It drew a beautiful arc in the air and fell into the group of Lizardmen below.
It was like a blood-red flower blooming in a dark green ocean. With a loud bang, the lizardman's severed limbs and internal organs flew in all directions. Then, it rained down like a rain of blood. Everyone was stunned, including the Lizardmen, the mercenaries, and even Amandina and Felaern. The only Disintegration Crystal they had left was the one in Amandina's hand, but she clearly gave it to the three mercenaries to use!
Amandina subconsciously turned her head.
She immediately heard a clang, and a longsword was thrown up from the ruins behind her. She immediately saw the Roman crawling up on all fours. She lay down on the platform as if she was about to die. She gasped for air as she looked at Amandina with a smug smile: "Phew, I almost got lost … Phew, phew, phew … It wasn't easy to find this place! An … Phew, Amandina, I've learned swordsmanship, I can protect you … Phew … Aiya, I'm so tired … "
"Wait," Amandina was stunned for a moment before asking: "Roman, why are you here? No … That's not it, I mean, didn't you give the Disintegration Crystal to Brando? "
Amandina looked wronged when she heard this. She pressed down on her bag and whispered: "That … Amandina, I only hid a little bit."
"How much, wait …" Amandina suddenly understood. No wonder she felt that the explosion that night was not right! She immediately grabbed the Roman's shoulder: "Damn it, didn't you say that you used those last night? Is it those? "
"Definitely, definitely not that many. Roman guarantees that Roman only has nine … No, eight."
Roman's expression changed, and he immediately shook his head like a rattle-drum, while rolling his eyes and replying.
… (To be continued, if you want to know what will happen next, please go to www.qidian.com to read more chapters. Support the author, support the original reading!)
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