Chapter 1304 Salute to the Warriors

"Pick up your sword and continue to fight for Sigmar and the Emperor!"

Derrick was hit in the face by a fist. He trembled and retreated. The low dragon roar was not only a blow to the morale of the greenskins, but also a screening of the weak.

Those who lack courage are not worthy of standing on the same battlefield with the dragon lord.

Boss Mok, whose left hand had been cut off by the greenskins, grabbed Derrick's collar with one hand, and his angry and cold eyes were full of contempt.

"Do you think the elves' appearance means we will win?! They have less than a thousand people, and they may have the strength to fight ten with one, but they will eventually fall into the quagmire of minced meat!"

The notched sword was thrown in front of Derrick, and Mok roared to the people around him: "Son of Rick, come closer to me... We need to guide a path for the elf cavalry and find the green-skinned warlord."

Silent silence, with the lucky guy who picked up a lot of treasures at the beginning and was ready to return to Uberrick to enjoy the treatment of a grandfather, he found the grenades that should have been used for throwing, and the flammable explosives purchased at a high price from the merchants accompanying the army.

The courage to face death reappeared after the explosives were ignited. Mok led the soldiers who trusted him, stopped the defensive posture, and rushed forward with the last strength to the most chaotic battlefield.

The sound of gunpowder explosions and the screams of machetes tearing flesh intertwined together. The confrontation between courage and barbarity never stopped. After losing an arm, Mork had lost most of his fighting power, but before he died, he still stabbed his sword into the chest of the greenskin who killed him.

Gun smoke filled the air, and flames rose everywhere. The white smoke that was supposed to serve as a warning gradually drifted into the sky as Mork's team moved...

Imric naturally noticed the rise of the white smoke, and the direction indicated was the location of the Big Belly King. Although he had already found the warlord through the mark left by Issarion, the courage of the imperial people still made the Phoenix King admire him.

"Salute to the warriors... Their sacrifice will not be in vain, Carol! Curtis!"

The monarch's order made the two Flame Knights who followed closely behind slowly raise the battle flag.

To express the great contribution to the unification of the Elven Empire, the new flaming phoenix flag was woven by the Eternal Queen herself. Countless skilled craftsmen and magicians spent a lot of effort, and then it was baptized by the burning of the platinum phoenix holy fire, and finally it was exchanged for an extremely cold symbol.

Everyone who gazes at the flaming phoenix flag will be scrutinized by Asuryan in their hearts, gradually lost in the cold will, and repent of the sadness of living in this world.

The other flag is a brand new volcanic dragon, and the rage that is unique to the dragon is on par with the cold.

The flag was raised, and the lance no longer hesitated. The tip of the artifact passed down from generation to generation in the family flashed with fire, and the dragon lord came again.

The flame knight followed closely behind, and the face under the golden dragon armor was full of fanaticism. Only those who guarded the monarch at all times knew the heart that symbolized the duality of the elves.

Killing and mercy have always been one.

Standing in front of the Phoenix King were a group of green-skinned orcs who must have taken drugs. They were obviously larger than their fellows in the Badlands, and their red eyes fully showed their desire for battle.

Seeing the cavalry entering the field, the green-skinned boys were even more excited. They not only wanted to kill the good-looking bean sprout, but also stepped on his body and spit on the warhorse. That was cool.

"waaaagh!"

There was no need to communicate. The long-lasting battle had made the greenskins so angry that they forgot who had set off a wave of greenskin grief in the world.

The stupid orcs naturally made it difficult for Imrick to feel a little difficult. He was not a gentleman on the battlefield, and he still cared about his appearance when fighting.

Mortelius had no intention of dodging the oncoming orcs. He directly hit the leading orc with a dragon-shaped horse armor wrapped in iselama silver, breaking his bones and tendons.

Following closely behind was a large-scale sweep of the Star Lance.

The Star Lance, transformed into a dragon lance, is more than four meters longer than usual. If an ordinary dragon prince lifts it, he can only rely on the assistance of the dragon saddle to perform stabbing movements. The dragon lance is too heavy and difficult to control.

But the Phoenix King is not an ordinary dragon prince. With a large-scale sweep of the Star Lance, the sharp spear tip easily cuts through the greenskin's crude armor, exposing the mushroom meat to the hot blade, and it is as easy to cut through as butter.

The orcs hit by the lance handle did not necessarily have a better fate than the guys behind them. The flaming lance, coupled with unreasonable brute force, presented a dual experience of meat sauce and cutting.

A sweep, only made the Flame Knight behind him drop his jaw, and the speed of swinging the war hammer in his hand was half a beat slower.

Although it is known that after the Holy Fire Trial, Imrick must have increased in strength, but he can't be like a... monster.

The Phoenix King was somewhat eager to fight, but no matter what the Flame Knight thought, his best way of fighting was to rush in alone, kill the strongest enemy, and then kill like a rat... madly.

Sensing his master's fighting spirit, Mortelius let out a low hum and ran at full speed towards the source of the white smoke, ignoring all the greenskins blocking the way.

Because the horse that had served Imrick for a long time knew that its master was eager for a fight.

The Phoenix King rode into the greenskins without paying any attention to the tactical arrangements he had previously explained to the guards, such as joint advancement, gradual strangulation, air-ground coordination, and magic cover...

No matter how well it looked on paper, as long as he rode Mortelius into the field, he would never be as calm as when he was on Old Mi's back.

Carrol, who was holding the flaming phoenix flag, pierced the green-skinned eye socket with the Royal-given Flagmaster's Sword, not even noticing the Asuryan curse rising from the boy's head.

He squinted at the passage that Imrik rushed out of and was quickly filled by the greenskins. He casually asked Curtis: "What should we do now? We can't keep up with the speed of his charge. Every time we tell him in advance, we will bring him with us." The Flame Knight charged, but he killed all the strongest ones by himself, and we were responsible for picking up the deserters."

"Just get used to it. The green skin shouldn't pose much of a threat to him... Creon will protect this daredevil." The steady Curtis dug the volcanic dragon flag into the goblin's chest and felt the flag after pulling it out. The flames on it became even more intense.

He waved the flag, and the low voice of a dragon emerged with the wind: "Now... let these two flags see blood. I am not used to holding a treasure that looks like it was just taken out of a girl's arms. , It’s like being a guard of honor every time I travel with you.”

"Suddenly I'm a little envious of Masnow... I get to kill Chaos Barbarians every day." Carol complained, taking one last look at the missing Phoenix King, and honestly waved the battle flag to guide the guards in the direction of attack. (End of chapter)