Dust of History Chapter 85: The power of weakness (medium)

The scorching sun is like fire, and the desert is like a huge furnace, and the things in this furnace are boiling.

What boils is people, blood, and killing.

Blood has changed the color of this desert from dry golden yellow to red. The high temperature steamed the corpses and blood on the ground, and the stench in the air was so strong that every breath was swallowing a mass of spicy flesh and blood. But no one cared about this, everyone was swallowing this breath to their heart's content, shouting, screaming, and killing each other like crazy. Any fight between natural enemies is far more desperate and tragic than the cannibalism of human beings.

The nomads wore uniform robes and rode tall horses without any armor on their bodies, but none of them flinched and hesitated in the face of the heavily armed swordsmen. The scimitar also aimed at the gaps in the swordsman's armor, slashing, stabbing, and poking heavily on the face, trying every means to leave as many wounds as possible on the opponent's chest.

The other half are warriors riding wild boars, another nomadic tribe on the edge of the desert.

These tribes had to hold together under Celeste's army. These wild boar warriors were desperately pinning down the cavalry troops. Although under the impact of heavy armor and lances, the bodies of wild boars and soldiers were scattered everywhere, and they had little effective resistance due to their poor equipment, they still did not flinch. But no matter how brave they are, the gap in equipment and numbers cannot be made up, and the church's troops are gradually gaining the upper hand.

"By God, the evil Celeste's army has already gained the upper hand. You should retreat first, my lord." One is already soaked in blood. As the spiritual leader of the tribe, the Prophet should not have appeared at the forefront of this battlefield.

The Prophet is a middle-aged man with black hair and black beard. He wears a sky-blue Xingyue robe.

Celeste, who was supposed to be confronting Oufu, suddenly turned around and concentrated unprecedented forces on the nomadic tribe alliance in the southern desert. In just a few days, the desert that originally belonged to the tribe has been conquered. This is already the last battle. All the nomad warriors have risked their lives. For their God and for the homeland behind.

The sound of extremely dense and piercing wind suddenly rose, and the two golden tent swordsmen jumped up to block the prophet and several other companions.

With the intensive sound of heavy rain hitting the banana leaves, in the next second, the two swordsmen fell down like banana leaves that had been kneaded into a ball after inserting countless bamboo sticks. The crossbow bolts shot their bodies almost to rot. Under the simultaneous shooting of hundreds of crossbowmen, not to mention his life, even the shape of this person could not be completely preserved. This is obviously a snipe against the prophet, the spiritual leader.

"Where else can we escape? Behind is the headquarters of the tribal alliance, even if we can escape. The tens of thousands of tribes, old, weak, women and children will not be able to escape." The voice of the prophet is similar to his body and age The disproportionate grandeur spread to the ears of all the nomad warriors. "Maybe Celeste won't kill them. But he will force them to betray God and believe in their evil god. This is a more evil way than killing them. If you betray God, your soul will only be in **** forever Suffering, fighting for God, and dying, God can see in the sky..."

Following the voice of the prophet, the already high morale of the nomads became even higher, as high as crazy. They already had no means of defense, and they didn't care about themselves at all. They used all available methods and even bumped, twisted, and bit their teeth with their bodies.

"God can see the bravery of the warriors. He can bless them..." The Prophet opened his arms wide, and a blue light shone on him. Then almost all the nomads have the same light.

The priests behind the swordsmen had always been in charge of assistance and medical treatment, but now they all hurriedly switched to using purification techniques to dispel the light from the nomads. That's the effect of the blessing spell. It wasn't a very advanced auxiliary spell, but it was used on tens of thousands of troops, and the effect was no worse than any other magic spell. The nomads, who were already at a disadvantage, began to stabilize their position.

Suddenly, one of the restrained knights stood out and rushed towards the prophet.

The steel gun in his hand is like thunder. The wild hunting warriors who tried to stop him were all shot away by him, one by one, and the wild hunting soldiers weighing hundreds of kilograms.

"Stop him." Amidst the shouts of the Golden Tent Swordsman, several nomads rushed over.

There was a muffled bang. A white beam of light lit up on the knight's body, and the knight didn't even stop for a moment, and just used this momentum to knock several nomads into pieces.

"It's a temple knight!"

Under the white magic radiance, it was the temple knight who opened the glorious armor of God's Blessing. This time, not just a few, but a large group of nomads rushed over.

This temple knight has already escaped from the brigade, and a single rider with a white light all over his body rushed a **** path on the battlefield. As soon as he stabs, a soldier will fly up, or be swept in two by the spear.

But as the knights continued to rush in, more and more nomad warriors gathered, and his forward momentum finally slowed down. With a clear whistle, the knight abandoned his horse and jumped up, stepping on the body of a nomad warrior.

With a click, the nomad's body tilted down in a strange posture like an overwhelmed frame, and the temple knight took advantage of his strength to leap high and fly towards the prophet. Dozens of scimitars were thrown towards him with a violent sound of wind, but the temple knights ignored them at all. Amidst the clanging sound, these scimitars had no effect at all under the astonishing protective power of the glorious armor, and they all bounced back.

The prophet shouted angrily, and a fireball rolled towards the knight in mid-air. The knight also threw the steel spear in his hand at the same time.

The knight's spear full of grudge and white magic roared angrily, and the fireball technique was gently dispersed like a puff of smoke.

A golden tent knife hand stood in front of the prophet, one meter long and one foot wide like a big knife standing upright like a small door. But after a bang, the knife broke into pieces and flew all over the sky together with flesh and blood. The door-like knife and iron tower-like body looked like cotton and paper wrenches under this shot.

But in this block, a golden tent swordsman took the opportunity to pull the prophet away, and the knight's spear continued to pierce through the soldiers behind him. Then the three Golden Tent Swordsmen waved their broadswords to meet the fallen Temple Knight.

The temple knight did not hide or give way, and he couldn't dodge or let go when he fell straight down. Being able to cut an oncoming galloping horse in half from head to toe is the most basic condition for becoming a Golden Tent swordsman. The broadswords used by these swordsmen are even heavier and heavier than dwarven axes.

No matter how good the armor's defense is, it is impossible to completely resist such an attack. The knight's body trembled, and he almost fell to his knees. Blood was seeping from the gap in the armor. The mouth under the helmet opened, and a mouthful of blood spurted out. But at the same time, the long sword at his waist also flashed into several white lights. The tent swordsman became the sixth dan.

The knight was seriously injured, but he didn't stop at all. The prophet was already retreating under the protection of the last two golden tent swordsmen. More nomads are coming from behind. He rushed forward, waved his hand, and the long sword flew out of his hand, obliquely piercing into the head of a golden tent swordsman.

The gun was gone, the sword was gone, and the forward knight actually squeezed his fist and punched the prophet. The door panel machete of the Golden Tent Swordsman slashed straight at the top of his head. No matter how good the armor is, it is impossible to resist such an attack. If the knife can be cut firmly, even if the head can not be broken, the cervical spine will never be able to bear it.

"Die, evil..." The face of the prophet was already happy, and the magic light was already emitting from his hands. As long as the opponent gives way, he has a chance to release magic. Even if it has no effect on the glorious armor, at least it can drive back the temple knight, and the subsequent battle

Soldiers will flood in soon.

But he couldn't say what he said later, and the bridge of his nose and his mouth full of teeth were sunken into his head under the fist of the temple knight~IndoMTL.com~ The knight still didn't back down, his head and body were only slightly On the other hand, the big knife made an unpleasant noise on the helmet and only slashed to his shoulder. He let out a miserable snort, even with the protection of the glorious armor, his shoulder blades were already cracked. He couldn't even resist because he only had one hand.

The knight's helmet cracked and flew up, and a long golden hair was also flying out with bloodstains.

The face under the helmet turned out to be a woman's face. Even the blood on her face, the bloodshot eyes and the ferocious aura could not conceal her handsome and heroic spirit.

Looking at the Prophet falling down in a **** mess, the fierce knight in front of him was actually a woman. Before the Golden Tent Swordsman could be startled, the sharp pain from between his legs directly pushed him into the air.

The female knight staggered a step forward, took the broadsword from the Golden Tent Swordsman just now, and cut off the prophet's head. Blood spurted up and splashed onto her face and hair. She didn't even blink her eyes. Her face and eyes were full of expressions that were colder and harder than a man's.

She glanced around at the nomadic warriors who were about to rush forward. Those warriors didn't know whether it was because the death of the prophet was too horrified, or because the female knight was too hustle, so they didn't move, they were stunned.