Rocot: Reborn

Roccod gritted his teeth and stared at the black-robed man in front of him. He knew that he had to break the barrier in front of him, otherwise the whole army would be in dire straits. The black-robed man's cold laughter sounded again, "Do you think reinforcements can change anything? Ignorance!"

Rocot did not respond, his eyes flashing with a cold light. He quickly adjusted his posture, concentrated all his strength on the tip of the sword, and stabbed the barrier fiercely. The harsh sound of metal collision sounded again, sparks flew, but the barrier was still intact.

Seeing this, Lianna hurriedly commanded her troops to continue attacking the black robes' reinforcements. She knew that she had to buy time for Rocot. "Brothers, don't retreat! Kill!" Her voice was like a loud bell, inspiring the morale of the soldiers.

When the man in black saw this scene, a trace of disdain flashed in his eyes, "It's in vain." He smiled coldly and clasped his hands together again. The thick fog surged and the barrier became more solid.

Rocot felt anxious and thought about countermeasures. He knew that a frontal attack would not work and he had to find the weakness of the barrier. Suddenly, he had a flash of inspiration and remembered a forbidden technique he had learned in his previous life. Although it was dangerous, there was no way out now.

He quickly raised the sword in his hand, silently chanted a spell, and the sword glowed dark red. Roccod closed his eyes and suddenly thrust the sword into the ground. The ground cracked instantly, and powerful energy surged out and attacked the barrier. The barrier shook violently, and the cracks gradually widened.

The black-robed man's expression changed. He obviously didn't expect that Rokod had such a trump card. "You actually mastered this kind of power..." Before he finished speaking, the barrier suddenly collapsed, and Rokod suddenly jumped up, pointing his sword directly at the black-robed man.

The black-robed man snorted coldly, flipped his palm, and a black light emerged from his palm, colliding with the blade of Rokod's sword. The two powerful forces collided violently in the air, and the surrounding air seemed to solidify, filled with murderous intent.

"Lockold, your stubbornness will only accelerate your destruction!" The black-robed man roared, and the black light in his hand became stronger and stronger, trying to repel Lockold. However, Lockold did not retreat at all, and his eyes were full of determination, "Today, either you die or I die!"

Just as the two men were in a stalemate, the sound of horns in the distance became more urgent. The reinforcements finally arrived at the battlefield. A warrior in silver armor quickly rushed to the center of the battlefield, pointing the spear in his hand directly at the man in black robes. "Lord Rocot, we are coming!"

The black-robed man's face suddenly changed, and he clearly realized that the situation was not favorable. He suddenly pulled back and tried to retreat. "Lockold, remember this, today's shame will be avenged one day!"

Rocot shouted, "Don't let him get away!" He quickly chased the man in black robes, but he had disappeared in the thick fog. Rocot stood in the center of the battlefield, staring at the direction where the man in black robes disappeared, and secretly vowed in his heart that he must put an end to this hatred.

The arrival of the reinforcements quickly reversed the situation on the battlefield. The soldiers' morale was greatly boosted, and they began to counterattack the remaining troops of the black-robed men. Roccod turned around and looked at Lianna not far away. The two smiled at each other, and everything was said without words.

However, Roccod still felt uneasy in his heart, he knew that this was just the beginning and the real decisive battle was still to come.

The situation has become intense, and every move is crucial. Outside the plain where the two armies are fighting, reinforcements are arriving in an endless stream, and their morale is high. Rocot is in command, wearing a golden crown, a star armor, and holding a sharp sword that symbolizes royal power.

The wind on the battlefield swept across every inch of land, bringing battle reports from the front. A herald came hurriedly, saluted and reported, "Your Majesty, our Third Army has completed its formation, requesting the next action order!"

Rocot's eyes were as sharp as torches as he looked through the trenches at the enemy's position in the distance. He opened his thin lips slightly, and his voice was filled with unquestionable determination, "Pass the order down, the Third Army will outflanking and attack the enemy from behind, catching them off guard!"

The herald took the order and left, his figure quickly disappearing in the smoke of the battlefield. The birds in the sky were startled and flew high, as if they were also avoiding the upcoming fight.

Rocot turned around and looked around. Standing beside him were the trusted generals he had promoted. His deep eyes swept across every face, and his tone was solemn, "Generals, now that our reinforcements have arrived, this is the moment of decisive battle. We must let the enemy know that our anger will burn out their hope!"

A general stepped forward, his expression firm, "Go to the battlefield and follow my command!"

Following this order, Rocot led the way, whipping his horse and charging towards the enemy line. In the dust, the soldiers followed closely behind him, shouting loudly. The neighing of horses, the clashing of weapons, and the sound of the soldiers' firm steps intertwined into a symphony of warriors.

Rocot held a sharp sword in his hand, and the light on the tip of the sword flashed with the light of victory. His eyes were firm and full of determination for revenge. No matter what, today he would make the enemy pay a heavy price. This battle was not only for the country, but also for those lost comrades and the humiliation in the past.

The atmosphere on the battlefield became increasingly tense, victory or defeat depended on this one move. Rocot's heartbeat merged with the upcoming battle, and every beat told him that in this battle, he would either go down in history or be defeated on the battlefield.

Rocot walked through the chaotic battlefield, his whole body stained with blood. He vowed to kill the enemy leader with his own hands, his eyes full of unyielding faith. But on the way to the charge, the unexpected resistance from the enemy made it difficult for him to move forward.

The enemy seemed to have gone crazy under Rocot's fierce attack. They no longer tried to defend themselves, but took the initiative to attack. The remaining soldiers rushed towards Rocot like crazy, trying every means to give the monarch a fatal blow. Rocot was exhausted by the attacks of countless enemies, and the number of guards around him gradually decreased. But he was still like a god of war, not flinching, and the enemies under his sword fell one after another.

Just as Rocot was in a tough fight, his most trusted warriors appeared in his sight. A team of elite cavalry had come around to him without him noticing. Through the smoke of the battlefield, their figures were like messengers of light, bringing hope to Rocot.

The cavalry formed a protective circle around Rocot, providing him with a chance to rest. A general came to Rocot and said respectfully: "Your Majesty, our reinforcements have arrived. It's time to launch a general attack."

Rocot nodded slightly, tightened his grip on the weapon, and his eyes flickered with renewed hope. "Pass the order down. We must defeat the enemy in one fell swoop and make them pay with their lives."

As the order was delivered, Rocot and his warriors launched the final fierce attack. The battlefield was filled with the sound of spears piercing flesh and the crisp sound of swords cutting through bones. The smell of blood filled the air, and the neighing of horses and the groaning of warriors rose and fell.

Under Rocot's powerful leadership, the enemy's defenses gradually collapsed. As one leader after another died on the battlefield, the enemy's resistance became weaker and weaker. As time passed, the battlefield became silent, with only the breathing of the victors and the neighing of horses echoing across the plain.