Brando raised his sword to block, and a gust of wind exploded from the point of contact between the Elven sword and Ashen Fang, causing his hair to fly backwards. He squinted his eyes and used the force to slide backwards. He felt like half of his body was about to be torn apart.
Although he hadn't been hit by a single sword due to his EXP, his HP had already dropped by more than 30 points on his retina. Brando knew that this was because his internal organs were damaged, and he was unable to completely disperse the force. This was also because his vitality was close to 7 OZ, so it was much tougher than normal people. If it was someone else, they would have died from the shock of the sword.
But what made him feel bitter was that Ebdon seemed to know this as well. His sword followed closely behind and did not give him a chance to breathe. There were a few times when Brando thought that Ebdon did not care about his army at all. Although his army was on the verge of collapsing, the rows of skeleton soldiers in the valley were also on the verge of collapsing.
Could it be that in this fellow's eyes, he alone was stronger than an entire army?
Brando did not know that his ridiculous thought was the closest to reality. Even though the 'White Knight' Ebdon was a hero of Aouine when he was alive, but after he awakened as an undead, everything he did before his death was just a note. In Vaunte, the undead were an existence that twisted the laws of nature. In many of the teachings of the Holy Church, they were considered a blasphemy to the living because they were just another type of power, another type of thought that was controlling a body that was supposed to rot and return to the earth.
It was a person, not a human. To the undead, its memories were just fragments of memories. There was a saying that the undead were not without fear because their greatest fear came from their memories when they were alive. Some undead would even fall into their memories and never be able to extricate themselves.
To them, this was something that was even more difficult to resist than dying. Almost all of the undead avoided remembering because when they did, they would inevitably fall into fear.
But perhaps the White Knight Ebdon was a special individual among them. This Knight would often be immersed in memories of the past. It remembered the Knight's battle on the Golden Flower Plateau, as if it was watching everything from another person's point of view. The killing in its memory made it calmer and more ruthless.
Therefore, at this moment, the White Knight, a high-ranking general of Madara, was thinking about how to kill the potential enemies of the Dark Kingdom in the cradle.
Obviously, in its opinion, the threat of a potential and excellent commander was far greater than that of the motley crew.
It was even willing to give up the victory of this battle to kill this young man.
However, Brando's performance far exceeded the Undead Knight's expectations. He was well aware of Erouine's school of swordsmanship. Brando was obviously learning the most basic type of swordsmanship in the army, perhaps with some superficial knowledge of the court's swordsmanship mixed in. But overall, he could only be considered an amateur. But it was this amateur level that caused him to return empty-handed time and time again.
In the end, the Undead Knight could only choose to use its absolute strength to slowly grind its opponent to death. This method of fighting was a little shameless. For Ebdon, who was a noble Knight in both life and death, it was a little hard to accept. But for the sake of the three Black Scepters and the oath under the Black Code, it coldly chose to give up its honor.
Ebdon knew that many people would make the same choice as it. Madara had to make this choice.
"Martha above, Madara will always be under your protection." The flames in the Undead Knight's eyes were as cold as ice, and the longsword in his hand was already swinging down mercilessly.
But as soon as he made his move, Brando had already dodged to the side as if he expected this. The Undead Knight's Pale Fang could only brush past the young man's body every time. Occasionally, when he guessed correctly, the young man would cleverly use his shallow swordsmanship to deflect the force.
All of this was unbelievable to Ebdon.
It's the same again! The Soulfire in Ebdon's eye sockets flickered. From the start, it had already switched to three different swordsmanship. At first, it used the Erouine Swordsmanship that it was most familiar with. Then, it switched to the Erouine Royal Swordsmanship, but Brando guessed all of them correctly. At first, it thought Brando was very familiar with the swordsmanship of its own country, so it subconsciously switched to Madara's Dark Cross Swordsmanship. But it didn't expect that not only did Brando not feel uncomfortable, but his guesses were even more accurate …
If the Undead had emotions, the White Knight Ebdon would probably be cursing right now.
But what it didn't know was that Brando's familiarity with the Erouine Royal Swordsmanship was limited to the level 30 in the original game. In his long experience, he had seen hundreds of high-level and common swordsmanship. But if there was one swordsmanship that he was most familiar with —
It must be the Church's Knight Swordsmanship and Madara's Dark Cross Swordsmanship.
There was no other reason other than practice makes perfect.
The Knight Swordsmanship was the swordsmanship that Brando used the longest in his previous life, and the Dark Cross Swordsmanship was the swordsmanship that he saw the most. Brando had fought with Madara in the game for seventy to eighty years, so his understanding of the Royal Swordsmanship was as natural as drinking water.
But that didn't mean that Brando was having an easy time.
Because under Ebdon's absolute suppression, he couldn't even find a chance to counterattack. No matter how old the swordsmanship was, it couldn't withstand the agility of 16 OZ. Sometimes, Brando couldn't even catch Ebdon's hand movements and could only guess based on his experience.
And Brando soon felt that his stamina was approaching the danger line. If a person's stamina dropped below half, their strength and reflexes would start to weaken. If it dropped below one-third, it would be hard for a person to maintain their form.
However, it had only been three minutes since the start of the battle.
Brando was sweating profusely. Facing Ebdon's relentless attacks, he gradually lost the ability to think. At first, he could still find the time to observe the situation on the battlefield, but as his stamina slowly decreased, he had to use close to his full strength every time he dodged Ebdon's sword.
The exchange of swords became more frequent.
It was like a vicious cycle. The more he exchanged swords with Ebdon, the more he felt powerless. But the more powerless he was, the harder it was for him to dodge Ebdon's sword.
Brendel gritted his teeth and persevered. This kind of perseverance had almost nothing to do with death. Compared to squeezing out the potential from his sore bones time and time again, escaping from death time after time, the exhaustion that gushed out from the depths of his soul made him feel like he was about to fall asleep forever in the next moment. It made him want to give up completely.
But this time, he suddenly thought of Freya and the little Roman. He thought of the cavalrymen who fought with him. The feeling of blood boiling from his chest made him persevere. He knew that this was a kind of responsibility. It made him responsible for everything he did and said.
There was a moment when he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the first thing he saw was a field of snow. Brando finally woke up. His scalp was numb. He rolled on the ground in a posture that had nothing to do with elegance.
But at this moment, Ebdon's power finally exploded.
With a thrust of the sword, the power of the lowest silver moved forth a silver flame that spread over the hills and fields before it; it was like a silver moon. It moved forward, noiselessly, and the rocks crumbled, and the fir trees fell back, one by one.
From the valley to the top, the sword had actually carved out a cone-shaped barren hillside that was close to a hundred and fifty feet in diameter.
The cold wind blew, and the valley was silent.
There was a moment of silence.
Everyone was shocked. Although they had heard of the second level of power — the power of the Silver Tier, they had never seen it with their own eyes. At this moment, they witnessed a miracle that almost no human could achieve. Everyone couldn't help but revere the power that came from the bottom of their hearts.
This kind of revere wasn't fear or despair. It was purely the worship of a small mortal towards a great power.
Even Retto, Mano, and the others froze. They couldn't believe that Brando was fighting with such a monster.
But they wasted time and didn't help the young man in time.
Brando didn't say anything.
However, these mercenaries felt a deep sense of shame in their hearts. At this moment, they could feel the heavy sense of responsibility from the young man. It turned out that the seemingly relaxed young man had been seriously fulfilling his promise to each of them.
If it was said that they worshipped Brando blindly in the past, then this was the first time they felt a sense of belonging.
But where was Brando? They couldn't help but worry. Would he be able to survive such an attack?
The White Knight, Ebdon, withdrew his sword and let out a clear cry.
"Brando!"
Freya was riding her horse to the place where Brendel and Ebdon were fighting, but she was a step too late when she saw the fight between the youth and Ebdon.
It was as if everything had ended.
The sword in Freya's hand fell to the ground with a clang. She couldn't believe what she saw. The young man who brought her out of Bucce, the young man who showed her the world outside the well, that shameless bastard.
This is as far as I can go?
But she felt someone patting her shoulder. The future Goddess of War couldn't help but turn around in a daze. She saw The Shire.
The young wizard stared at the bottom of the hill without moving his eyes.
"Miss Freya, as long as I'm still here, it means that the Lord is still alive."
"Wh … What?" The ponytailed girl was stunned. She couldn't understand the meaning behind The Shire's words.
But at least she understood a part of it.
Because she immediately saw a familiar figure crawling out from under a pile of rocks.
Brando felt as if his whole body was about to fall apart. His clothes were completely torn, his forehead was covered in blood, and there were countless wounds on his body.
However, he still endured the pain and chuckled with incomparable pride.
"Old man, I didn't expect you to miss this at the end."
… …
(PS. Good evening everyone. That's all. Good night!) (To be continued, if you want to know what will happen next, please go to www.qidian.com, there are more chapters. Support the author, support legal reading!)
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