MTL - The Amber Sword-v6 Chapter 852 Final Battle II

"Birus' third line of defense was breached!"

"Sir Laval's battalion asks for support!"

"The enemy flying unit appeared in the Sphinx —"

"They're at twelve o'clock!"

Veronica froze.

The female commander gestured to the heavy crossbowman from Atadi not far away, and the officer saluted her, and rushed over the city rampage with the heavily armored crossbowman.

The purple arcs light up the sky from time to time, fleeting, but enough to illuminate the entire huge battlefield.

The bright spots flickered one after another, reflecting the pale blue network behind-that is a light curtain about a dozen kilometers wide-behind it, a giant that had completely risen from the ground suspended in mid-air, the surface was glittering with metal Gloss, like a hexahedral prism that is thousands of meters long.

And that's the Tower of Heaven.

Against the backdrop of this giant tower, the crisscrossed mountains of Alkash region are just like pocket sandboxes, and the human defense system is more like the dust distributed in a line.

As for the human soldiers who rely on these fortresses to resist, they are almost invisible.

No matter how small they are, when they are enough to cover the whole valley, they still dye the whole land-the undulating hillside is the red position of the Cruzs, and the other side is the purple ocean pushing forward. The two are intertwined with each other.

Veronica was staring at the heavy crossbowman moving up the walled walkway.

At this distance, more than sixty crossbowmen are as small as a creeping black line. The maggots roared down in the sky, and the crossbowman had to stop to erect the tower shield, and from time to time someone fell off the wall.

Here, death is nothing more than ordinary.

Veronica's heart was a little calm, as if life and death could no longer make her heart wave, this mechanical apathy enveloped everyone on the battlefield. She frowned, and put her hand on the lower abdomen. The scaly armor was covered with red roses, and there was an opening ripped by six-inch long fangs.

Just a moment, another lilac arc of light across the sky-

The crisscross mountains and the intricate valleys hidden beneath it, the whole world is reflected in purple.

But a moment later, the world returned to darkness, and the rampant battlefield disappeared in an instant.

The empire elements on the Minaret of All-Knowing are brewing to counterattack, the chanting echoes in the night sky, and a bright golden flame ring appears above the clouds.

Fire and rain appeared in the sky, the golden red flames with long tail marks, like the molten steel pouring from the clouds, the scattered sparks fell deep in the valley of Alkash. Before the flames landed, a dense ocean of crystal clusters appeared.

They are advancing in the sea of ​​fire.

Is trampled on death.

Although the crystal clusters have not yet broken into the last few lines of defense.

But it is not far off.

In Warnd's history, defense has never been isolated in wars that have been fought around city barriers and fortresses, even for legendary fortresses built by gods such as the 'Tower of Heaven'.

It's just that with the downfall of the era above the clouds, the defense systems built by those great beings have disappeared this morning. The glorious history has become buried in the past under the dust, and today it is only scarred.

Although it is said that the wind elves and the Cruzians have rebuilt this system.

But how can mortal's poor craftsmanship be compared with the miracles created by the gods and people, Babel once had a reputation of never falling, but now, no one dares to boast of Haikou.

Defenders all understand the fact that this fortress can be used as a spiritual support for them, but it doesn't have much hole cards.

Veronica stood in place, looking occasionally west, and that direction was the position of the elves. At this moment, the arrow was falling like rain.

The strong dominance of the Golden Elf shooter on the battlefield effectively curbed the momentum of the crystal cluster army. A huge siege-level crystal cluster immediately appeared in the ocean of crystal clusters, and the floating purple began to advance again. The elves were forced to retreat, and a little gap was etched in the complete line of defense.

From the Four Realms, the Wind Elves brought the most elite guards from the Hurricane Legion and the Elves' Court. The former was the old enemy of the Red Army for six centuries, and the latter was the commander's guard handed down from the time of the Sage— —Their predecessors were twenty-four wind knights.

But Lord Islingville, Lord of Lorraine, the commander of the Wind Elves, knew better that the power available to him was not abundant.

He had to mobilize half of the most important Elven shooter to support human allies, otherwise the remnants of the Cruzs' young and black corps, which were hardly saved from East Metz, may have died of blood in this war.

This is a consideration on the battlefield, but more importantly the elves value their commitment.

Although the two have been enemies several times in the past few centuries, the vow inscribed on the slate a thousand years ago also exists. Perhaps the elves decided to choose such a place to die on this day, and they will Believe in the people behind you without hesitation.

Even if the other person is Cruz.

The battle has reached the most intense stage. The stormy waves are not enough to describe the offensive of the crystal clusters. The fortresses of humans still standing at the forefront have fallen one by one, and the ordering knight is reading out loud that those troops have not fallen yet. Name-but the list is getting shorter.

"Sir Marks called for help with his Highland Infantry Battalion, Sir Spruen is still there, Wade Quasi-Swordmaster and his battalion are retreating ..."

Sheets of parchment were thrown into the aisle.

In the end, he had the last one on his skinny hand.

At this moment the third line of defense has been declared broken.

But there was also a final reef among the raging waves.

"Sir Wallar is still there!"

"Sir Wallar they retreated into the Fortress of Golden Eagle."

When he read the third time, the knight looked up in surprise, and trembled, "Sir Laval ... Sir Laval they are still there."

Many people are stuck.

In Valachi, there is a place called Sheti, through which a brown river flows.

On that fertile ground, a group of people have fought against the mountain people for generations. They are descendants of the Cruz, but they are not tolerated in the mainstream society of the empire. The Shetites like to ridicule the imperial family, because they are descendants of the soldiers, and for decades, every Shetite hated the Empire for their betrayal.

The empire accommodated the mountain people but forgot the Sheti people.

Count Laval is an authentic Shetti man. He is stubborn and old-fashioned, and is not tolerated by high society. What is even more irritating is that he is a so-called dissident. To put it simply, he is Kang The stalwart of Queen Stance.

Such a person is naturally not flattering there, not to mention the fact that after the fall of Constance, if the empire did not fall, people like him would have deprived them of their aristocratic status--maybe they had to go on a gallows.

The Duke of Ludwig once mocked this man for being uninteresting, and the nobles who lost in the East Metz were even more angry, and more than once publicly declared that these farmers from Sheti were a group of savages.

But the Sheti people were brave and warlike, and the history of this region was rich in the best shooters and light infantry of the entire empire.

In the middle of the battlefield--

The crystal cluster climbed up the outer city wall, and the Shedi people retreated into the city. When the crystal cluster broke the city, the She people stayed in the inner city. After the inner city walls changed hands, the She people retreated into the minaret.

They had little left, but the minaret still stood.

It is like a fang pierced into the purple ocean.

The Duke Ludwig approached the battlements subconsciously, "What are you still doing, to rescue them-!" He bulged green, as if an angry lion, roared at his knights.

One hand interrupted him, and Mangrove looked at the ordering knight.

The knight's voice was a little stiff: "Sir Laval and his soldiers asked for support ..."

"What kind of support do they need?"

"My lord, see for yourself ..."

A tiny figure climbed to the top of the minaret, and a flag rose on top of the tower.

"Sir Laval!" Someone exclaimed.

But more people stared silently at the flag.

It was a brown flag, the shape of a piece of land on the flag, that was the land guarded by the Shetites for generations, their homeland, the fertile field surrounded by the brown river.

The brown and white-bellied eagle owl represents the fearless spirit of the Sheti people, while the ears of rice contain the deepest hope of this land.

It was a purple wave.

It is also a banner of loneliness.

Many people shed tears and felt remorse for what they did.

These farmers from Sheti proved their loyalty and courage to the empire, but the empire can no longer make up for its narrowness and prejudice, and perhaps this is the root cause of everything falling apart.

At this moment, Mangrove suddenly thought of the small frontier country in the south of the empire, the fearless monarch, and the sword he had taken away.

The Duke Ludwig leaned weakly against the wall, silent.

"They, asking for the use of the Golden Flame Angel ..." the Knight of the Order whispered.

"Target," Mangrove asked softly.

The Cavaliers opened their mouths, but in fact everyone already had the answer.

It's like a king needs both a scepter and a sword to maintain his majesty, and the Angel of Gold Flame is the sword that Babel symbolizes justice and majesty. The golden beams of light converge along the hexagonal prism from the bottom to the top. They may have traveled for several kilometers, but in fact, they have been brought together to a point in just one instant.

The sky seemed to have been lit, and the clouds were burning.

A fiery beam of light from top to bottom penetrated into the dark mountains, and then dispersed into tens of millions of beams, plowing through the ocean of crystal clusters. With just one hit, the thousands of crystal clusters were wiped out.

The entire offensive of the Purple Ocean was stagnant.

But at the very center of the beam of light, the towering minaret remains only the charred remains.

The flag turned into a bit of ashes, drifting in the breeze before dawn.

Some noble ladies covered their faces and lost their voices, crying and reverberating above the city walls, but they couldn't bear the horrific killing.

The Golden Flame Angel should not be used at this time, but it is known that only the bravest people deserve sharp swords-the Sheti people proved their bravery. Mangrove patted the old man's shoulder as he walked down the city, meaning to tell the Duke Ludwig:

Many people will die here, but the living must fight.

At the Sphinx of the Sphinx, a battle that had no suspense was announced, and humans had no hope of winning.

The young officer from Atadi stood on the wall and gave a knight salute to the commander of his legion. The other person's eyes carried that kind of respect from the heart. Then he jumped and fell down the cliff.

Countless roundworms are climbing up the city.

Veronica looked at the scene blankly.

"It's time to retreat," Mephist told her.

"I can't even remember his name, but I know that the child is a knight of the Folding Knights," she said quietly to Gray Sword: "They are the best young men in the empire."

"I know them," Mephisto knew these enemies of his own. "It's worth admiring."

"Bring my horse, I'm going to meet Istorville."

Then she turned and left.

Mayfest grabbed her arm and shook her head: "Why, you know that there is no result, and the elves have troubles, and you still have injuries."

"We may all die here, and this injury is nothing," Veronica replied softly. "Do you want me to give up? We can still retire now, but we will always retreat."

...

Yalota stared blankly at the mess left after the dispute ...

The desk case fell to the ground, the parchment and map tube rolled to the ground, and the elf guards stood awkwardly at the door. The King of Lorraindale, wearing a black fleece and thin face, shook his head, and he bent down to pick up the military map from the ground. His skinny palms were as pale as a vampire.

Depth can be used to describe the face of the elf lord. The sunken eyes seem to be filled with a bright flame, but his lips are extremely thin, as if indifferent, and extremely opinionative.

Istorville smiled bitterly again, shaking off the dust on the parchment. The fury of the female legion chief left a deep impression on everyone present, but he just didn't expect that after all these years she was still a girl with a little girl.

"Why don't you promise her?"

Yaluta couldn't help but ask, although he was a little scared of the person in front of him, and his emotions were out of shape.

"Why do you agree?" Istorville looked at the young prince and asked back.

"Isn't this self-help ... it's all this time?"

"Why is it self-help?" Istorville asked, "depending on Madara?"

"But Lord Sage said ..."

The King of Lorrainedale raised his hand and motioned him to stop saying: "His prince, compared to the sages who live in history, I know better than St. Osor what they need-well, this question is for you It's too complicated. Maybe you should spend more time learning how to be an 'elf' king-chu. "

The guards outside the door looked at each other, thinking that the adult was talking nonsense again, this time involving the adult after the wind, and he did not have much respect for His Royal Highness. Fortunately, perhaps they have long been used to such a scene, and carefully winked at each other, the elf girls retreated calmly.

Maybe someone else could pretend that they didn't hear this, but Yaluta didn't.

He felt insulted.

He was just the son of a hunter, and these days have been enough of anger, the elves did not look at him and his sister at all, and some people even laughed at them as soil buns.

He removed the crown from his head and couldn't help but say aloud, "I know, you haven't looked at us at all, but I didn't expect anything. If it were not for the commission of Mr. Brando and Lord Sage, I would not want to Come here ... take this crown, if you want it, it doesn't belong to me. "

Then, he threw the crown on his hand to the other.

Istorville stopped suddenly, didn't reach out to pick it up, and let the crown ‘咚’ fall to the ground.

A purple arc outside the hole window was crossing the sky, and the whole dark room was bright.

Yalta was startled. He looked at the crumbling crown, only to remember that it was a symbol of the elf kingship. He couldn't help but feel a little scared, whispering, "I ... I didn't mean it ..."

The King of Lorraindell glanced at him, bent down, and picked up the crown with both hands. "Don't let me hear that again." He said coldly.

"Then why don't you keep us!" Yaluta felt a sting in his nose, and tears almost moved in his eyes. He was really aggrieved and terrified: "Since you don't want to, let us go , My sister and I weren't even elves! "

"Because you don't understand its weight." Istorville gently swept away the dust from the crown.

Then he raised the crown with both hands and placed it on top of the boy's head.

Yaluta was still crying, seeing the other person came over and froze in fright, but he saw Istorville's movements for a moment, but he froze.

"you--"

"I do understand Saint-Osor better now than the adults after the wind."

"But I have to admit that she knows better than me who is better for this throne--"

Istorville looked very serious: "The Wind Elves have long lacked a culture of tolerance and are therefore not tolerated by the mainstream of civilization. Perhaps a human king is the opportunity to change everything. Isolation is only a helpless choice, especially today In fact, we all know that no one can face this enemy alone. "

"That being the case ... why don't you agree?" Yaluta wiped her tears and asked, sniffing her nose, "You clearly know that Madara is not the black hand behind Baishan, ... I'm sorry, I overheard your conversation."

Istorville didn't take it seriously, correcting Aruta seriously: "It's us, not you."

The elven lord looked out of the window, his thin face, the light reflecting in the depths of his pupils—the dark clouds dipped out of the window, and the empty knights of the Cruzs and Faenzans in the sky also joined in the killing. The light lit up almost the entire cloud.

"It was the same situation a thousand years ago," he murmured.

Looking back again: "Her Highness, do you know what makes the Wind Elves stand?"

Yaluta shook his head blankly.

"It's because of pride." But Istoville's tone was even more proud.

"proud?"

"For those people in this world who think they are above others, the wind elves will never accept their mercy."

He reached for the crown of Yaluta: "It didn't happen in the past, so it doesn't happen today."

Yalta froze.

He felt as if he understood something, but he was not sure.

...