The angle of the shooter was very tricky. Even though he had caught the tiny sound of breaking through the air mixed with the noise, Menachel also reacted in time. However, the target was too large. Even though Menachel had tried his best to twist his body, the two tailless arrows still easily pierced his lower abdomen, where he had just taken off his armor.
Feeling the sting, Menachel immediately rolled over and urgently avoided the second round of arrows. At this time, there were circles of knights around him. Some of them were wearing uniform knight armor, some were civilian clothes, and some were wearing a variety of armor of the rebels, but the flashing cold metal showed the hostility of this group of people.
Perhaps it was because the noise caused by Menachel's counterattack against three people just now was too loud. At this time, when he looked up, there were already dozens of people around him. He could still hear the gradually weakening shouting in his ears, but no reinforcements appeared.
Pulling out the arrow that had sunk into his abdomen, the blood immediately dyed the lining red. A tingling sensation that was even more unbearable than the pain came from the wound, and the irritating feeling made Menachel's eyes red.
Was there something wrong with the arrow, or was it the purple flame? He thought so at this time, but the enemy would not give him a chance to think. It was not a one-on-one competition of chivalry. Those neatly dressed "iron thorns" stabbed forward, and the weapons in their hands were either stabbed or chopped directly at Menachel's vital points.
Unlike the last time when a knight group was defeated by a surprise attack at night, he don't know if they learned the lesson from the last time. After entering the city, those rebels set fires everywhere. The sky-high flames dispelled the night, and even at night, they were not limited by vision.
The first enemy had already pounced on him, and Menachel's pupils stretched rapidly at this time, making people almost think that it was a vertical pupil. The dark black and red in the pupils replaced the ruby red luster.
Killing intent, or inhuman aura, spread from around Menachel. The burning magic power roamed freely on his body surface. The almost materialized magic power spontaneously surged to his arms. A thunderous roar was heard, and the knight who rushed out first was knocked back at a faster speed, and several knights behind him were plowed out of a gap.
The swelling feeling from his arm made Menachel almost think that he had lost his limbs, but soon another wave of magic power moistened this discomfort.
The horrible and violent blow just now made the originally chaotic scene quiet immediately, but in just a moment, the vacant part was filled again.
Several arrows took this opportunity to shoot at Menachel's lower abdomen and face respectively, and with the knights gradually surrounding him, all the space for Menachel to dodge was blocked.
But the hidden arrows did not hurt Menachel. To be precise, they had already charred and disintegrated when they touched the magic layer on the surface of Menachel's body.
Menachel turned his head alertly and saw the hidden watchtower behind him. He turned his sword and chopped off several knights who were blocking his side. The red magic steam on his body was stained with blood because of the blood.
The Idea of rushing to the city gate quickly was gone, so he had to kill them all.
Menachel's eyes showed the most primitive hysteria of creatures. He did not consider the feasibility of doing so and gave up taking off his armor. He let the flames on the armor continue to spread and blacken. Menachel changed his previous sword back to clear the field. At this time, with the blessing of magic power from nowhere, he held the sword tightly with both hands. He raised his hand and slashed one person with almost no hindrance.
He didn't have time to retract the sword blade. Several steel spears stabbed at him again. Menachel simply gave up defense and let the spears pierce several bloody holes in his body. The pain was fleeting, and a smile twisted by pain appeared on Menachel's face. He swung his sword again, and with just one sword, he killed all the knights in the cage in front of him.
The body split Into two parts fell slowly and regularly. The too dense spear blades stuck in Menachel's muscles effectively restricted his sword skills and blocked Menachel's movements.
He gritted his teeth and cut off all the spears outside his body, but the spear tip still stuck in his body made him feel more painful.
Fortunately, there was no bleeding again. Granulation tissue surged at Menachel's wound, filling the wound.
Later, he would have to cut open the body and take out the spear blades. Menachel thought – if he could survive, he would do this.
He swung his sword again and again, and his body was repeatedly injured. His back and front were densely covered with tiny scars. The almost maddening heat and pain did not defeat Menachel. He seemed to have returned to the difficult time when he absorbed dragon blood. His body was torn apart again and again, but was forcibly glued together.
Menachel's magic power seemed infinite. The faint but ever-present blood-colored light was reflected in this small space. He didn't know how many enemies he had killed. He just swung his sword again and again, raised his hand, dropped it, raised his hand again, and swung his sword again.
The spurting blood spread on Menachel's armor, which was about to be taken off. The blood spots on the scabbed armor were like countless waves of enemies around him.
Finally, another knight passed over the bodies of his companions and stabbed the seemingly shaky Menechel with hope.
Menechel swung his arm, and the exaggeratedly large red heavy sword was swung out along with his somewhat weak arm as if it was an extension of his arm. The sharp blade cut through the spear shaft and cut the attacker in two.
At this time, the armor hanging on both sides of Menechel snapped together as if alive. He slightly adjusted the snap and put on the armor again.
He habitually put away the sword and swung it again, but this time the greatsword that never missed a target, hit the target. Menechel only then noticed that the knights around him, who were stimulated by the blood and whose blood was boiling, had become a pool of hot blood and minced meat scattered on the ground.
All killed.
Menechel was a little overwhelmed. He moved his feet, but found that there was no place for him to stand among the pile of corpses with upper and lower bodies.
The magic glow that had been emanating from his body was extinguished at this moment. Menachel used his sword to support his body so that he would not lie with the corpses.
"I should have left one person behind."
Menachel could not help but whisper, his voice a little hoarse perhaps because of exhaustion. He took off his head armor and wanted to throw it aside, but he disliked the surrounding environment and had to hold it for the time being. He looked down at the intact armor on his body and could not help but curl his lips slightly.
This feeling of fighting one against a thousand seemed pretty good – if possible, he could try it again next time. However,
In the short time that Menachel lowered his head, an arrow came swiftly and caught the moment when Menachel was about to raise his head.
His body did not have time to react, and the arrow – directly grazed Menachel's scalp and flew behind him.
Plop.
One person fell down in response, and Menachel took back the sword with some regret. The attacker was killed by the arrow, and Menachel did not have the habit of whipping the corpse.
He looked up at the stage and found that it was the knight Chamo who had disappeared for a while. He saw him casually throw a knight and show a flattering smile to Menachel.
No wonder… there has been no attack by flying objects for a while. At this time, he noticed that the city gate that had just been opened had been quietly closed.
"This fence-sitter."
Menachel did not look at Chamo, but Chamo said: "The commander is still in the central city."
Menachel's expression became serious, and he gave up the idea of demolishing the tower to kill Chamo. He only heard the other party continue to say: "Someone just fled to the central city. I was afraid of hurting you by mistake, so I didn't stop him."
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