The Legend of Fatality

After being silent for a while, Baien turned his attention to Bill Bally City. The huge blood puppet had collapsed due to the loss of magic power. The defenders of Bill Bally City were leaving the city through the south gate. Behind them was a smoky smoke rising from the dilapidated and scarred wall.

Bain knew a little bit about history between Bill Barry and Margarita. In order to compete for the trade route, the businessmen of both sides pinched each other's neck, and various friction disputes never stopped. In terms of past records, Margarita has the upper hand. Finally, the Bilbals living in northern Istania can reverse their long-standing disadvantage since the beginning of the war.

Seeing the Bill Pali begin to build bridges on the artificial river channel, Bai En's face finally sank. The Bill Pali's rapid movement made him very unhappy, but even if the Bill Pali did nothing, it would be hard to make him happy.

But Bai En was too exhausted to consider the situation of the Bill Pali people. He had to think about the matter first. It is a pity that Bai En is not a believer in a certain god, otherwise Bai En will drop blood on that god's idol and call that god. Although he didn't want to admit it, he really doubted in his heart that the thing provided to the magic power of the Dakenas language might be a dark god.

Bai En also understands that Bill Bally City can be left behind, except for the unexpected bitter taste in his mouth, nothing is left. The camp previously established by the Margarita Coalition, the next destination in the front, was the key location for the Fatalin Association in this war. Although Brian did not have the predictive ability of Flynn, he still had a strong hunch that would be the beginning of a new nightmare.

Perhaps the temptation of the Bian team is far less than the great achievements that can be obtained from the defeated Goblin front. The group of cavalry commanders did not turn to the Bian side, and even did not divide enough cavalry to harass. Although the number of cavalry around the Bian team has increased, the Bian team is also expanding.

But the flies-like cavalry upset Bai Eun. When he didn't find a group of surviving soldiers, as long as he could not rush to the rescue in the first time, then the cavalry would destroy them. This made Bain feel as if he had brought misfortune to the soldiers who finally survived the defeated front.

When Beane's team finally arrived on the plain where the camp was, the carriage was loaded with wounded soldiers and shuttled between crowded tents. The Margarita's coalition camp can no longer speak of order. The soldiers' howl of pain seemed to make the air hot, and the pain was mixed with fear.

The temporary dock continually transported the wounded after simple treatment to the other side of the river. But Netska ’s ship was too large to enter the river, and could only provide some artillery support from afar.

Bai En shuttled among the survivors, crossing the ruts piled up with blood stains. His eyes could not leave the sloppy arms of the mountain outside the operation camp. The camp servants ’tents and shelters heard a series of terrible screams of thousands of people. They continued to sing in the heart. Remind people how terrible a war is.

Perhaps in the future, some years later, in a library, an unknown clerk will record the battle and mark it with beautiful fonts: Bill Bally City, early summer, 1445. Thousands and even tens of thousands of people have been summed up in such a sentence. Then they will be forgotten.

Thinking of this, Bai En couldn't help laughing. But I will not forget. But Bai En also knew that he must put aside this emotional influence. Impulse is the devil, and rash action is a shortcut to the door to death. It takes more lives than people killed in this war. Just like Amen Cannon said: You can throw a fist in anger, but you can't get the life of the dead.

Since the establishment of the Fatalin Association, and as the Association participated in wars in other countries, he has witnessed too many deaths, far more than he had seen during the Black Tower period. But those corpses did not pile up under their feet, this is the difference, this difference is enough to support his belief in revenge. But the hatred in the Black Tower has a definite goal, and what about these hatreds? Bai En doesn't know who to resent, is it a Bill Pali? Or a Burtanian? Or King Margarita? Even Amen Cannon?

Bai En shook his head, probably himself. Bai En told himself in his heart that he couldn't repeat the same mistakes. He spent nearly ten years washing his hands and blood. Then, just a while ago, the scene of the corpse on the top of the hill appeared again before his eyes, eating his soul. Those soldiers and wizards were arranged by him, and as a result, it was a fatal wrong choice, a behavior that pushed them into the abyss of despair.

Bai En knew that all commanders would tell him not to care about the life and death of the soldiers, but to pay attention to the victory of the war, although Bai En believed that most people would only secretly tell him. But he still couldn't do it. He was one of them. In the battle just now, they loyally protected him like a mad dog against the enemy.

Maybe what he has been taught is wrong, he should be a protector. Like several apprentices in the Black Tower, only taking care of each other can ensure that everyone can survive as much as possible, so it has become the legend of Fatalin. He should protect those soldiers, those wizards, not push them to death.

Bai En shook his head, squeezing these thoughts aside, now is not the time to pay attention to them. There is still a battle to be fought outside the camp, and it is only necessary for him to pay attention to the victory of this battle.

When Bai En lifted the curtain of the commanding tent, a strange feeling suddenly rushed into his heart. There was something wrong here. There was a touch of motion in the corner of his eyes, and a figure seemed to be standing in a corner of the tent where the brazier could not shine, struggling to escape the shackles of darkness.

Bai En widened his eyes, held his breath, and reached for the sacrificial knife around his waist. Just as he was about to make gestures to the masters behind him.

"Bai En." A familiar voice rang out from the shadows.

Bai En's eyes widened and he watched a person wearing a dark green ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ armor with a ten-clawed octopus coat of arms coming out of the shadows, with a delicate facial feature familiar to Bai En.

"Moradren!" Said Bai En in surprise.

"I'm glad you are still alive," Moradron said, walking staggering to a chair, sat down, and stretched his delicate hands on the table. "It seems that your front has also been breached." He said, taking off the blood-stained helmet and dropping it on the table at will.

"That blood puppet was cast by you. This spell has been lost for hundreds of years, even the Black Tower ..." Moradron stopped and didn't continue, but changed his mouth. "Do you have any wine here? My mouth is dying. I didn't expect that wearing armor on the battlefield was like being thrown into the fire."

"You're going to help Earl Moradron to bring a jug of wine." Bai En turned to a mage beside him, then turned to the other mage. "You have a position to deal with the things in the camp, and all the mages are gathered together, and the others are kept outside the tent."

Several mages nodded and turned away from the tent.

"Let's talk later, wait for the wine first." Moradron interrupted what Bane was about to say, and said again.