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Now reading: Chapter 330 - 23: Admit Defeat from Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks, a Fantasy novel by Crazy Stone Monster.

A wave of cheers erupted from the audience seats like a tidal wave.

To Losa, this was quite a novel experience. Previously, he had never fought as a mber of an infantry phalanx, like a tiny component on a massive machine.

He didn’t need to think.

All he had to do was hold his shield and focus on the enemy in front of him; everything else could be left to his comrades beside and behind him.

First, a shield-wielding knight crashed with a bang into the soldier next to Losa, pushing him back two steps. Fortunately, his comrade behind him propped him up, preventing any gaps in the shield wall.

"That damn thing’s got so serious power!"

Cursing, he raised his shield, thrusting his short sword through the gaps for a counterattack.

Yet the opponent’s thickened rivet chain armor was evidently not comparable to common chain armor, and the sharp Roman short sword found it hard to penetrate their defense.

"Seems like it’s going to be another battle of attrition."

Losa thought to himself.

Through the gaps in the shield wall, Losa saw a tall knight raising his long halberd, smashing it downwards. The soldier behind him raised his shield over Losa’s head, his wrist sinking sharply.

The heavy shield slamd directly onto Losa’s helt, leaving him feeling suffocated.

A low cry of pain ca from behind, as the opponent’s strength was astonishingly great, clearly surpassing the range of ordinary humans.

Without hesitation, Losa stepped forward, kicking the knight in front of him so hard he staggered backwards into the arms of his attendant.

The knight felt the turmoil in his chest from the kick, montarily unsteady on his feet, before Losa seized the Shining Cross Sword and pierced his chest—after all, the Shining Cross Sword was a magic artifact, with sharpness far beyond what a re chain armor could resist.

Having easily dealt with his opponent, Losa, wearing a golden mask, looked around calmly. For a mont, these knights were intimidated by his presence, sowhat hesitant to approach.

This was the Mask Helt’s special effect—Frightening!

From the audience seats,

The scene looked like a pack of fierce lions attacking a large prairie elephant. Although the Germanic knights’ offensive was fierce, the Eagle Banner Brigade was equally well-defended.

Leopold smiled and said, "It’s as if I’ve just seen this scene before, only the roles of offense and defense have reversed."

Anna snorted slightly, knowing full well that Count Leopold was referring to the clash between the Undead Army and the Varangian Guard—the Undead Army was defensively rigorous, while the Varangian Guard relied on their frenzied charges.

The two sides wore down each other’s blood and physical strength, forcing a draw where both suffered losses.

"Don’t think I can’t see that every one of your Walking Knights has drunk a magic potion. Were it a fair fight, they definitely wouldn’t stand a chance against our Empire’s Eagle Banner Brigade."

Leopold spread his hands, "But Losa and his witches are also among their ranks; so things are better left unsaid."

Anna snorted, no longer speaking.

...

Furinjira watched the scene with so agitation, "What on earth is Lord doing? I really want to cast a spell and wipe out all those enemies at once."

Chelina grasped Furinjira’s soft hand, "Lord worries you might do just that, which is why I’m keeping an eye on you and not letting you get involved. Don’t forget, these Germanic knights have backing too."

She slightly raised her chin, pointing at a mysterious woman in the audience seats opposite.

That was Leopold’s witch mistress, who had once put Losa under considerable pressure. At this mont, she was watching Furinjira’s side with interest, smiling and waving when she saw her looking.

...

Crown Prince Henry’s intentions were clear: to rely on the frontline’s strongest and most elite Walking Knights to tear through the Eagle Banner Brigade’s defenses.

Once they broke through the solid shell of this army, the enemy would expose their soft flesh underneath, at which point, his elite troops could easily crush them.

But the sa could be said.

This army’s shell was exceedingly robust.

Although his side had minimal casualties, the enemy hadn’t suffered a single death.

Moreover, such active offense consus far more physical strength than passive defense. If this goes on, even if his knights were all enhanced with magic potions, their stamina wouldn’t necessarily outlast the other side.

"We must break through the enemy’s defense line."

Henry took a deep breath, drawing on the imnse power granted by the "Giant Potion," swinging a two-handed war axe and chopping down onto the shield before him.

A crack sounded.

The shield was split down the middle, the axe burying into the shoulder of a tall knight in silver armor with a face-covering helt—such hardened armor!

Henry couldn’t help but feel a tinge of shock.

The knight before him wore what appeared to be full body plate armor akin to Milan-style, with armor overlapping flawlessly. When his two-handed axe embedded into the knight’s shoulder armor, it didn’t go deep, leaving a sense that it wouldn’t progress any further.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled the war axe out from the shoulder of this knight, whose appearance distinctly differed from the surrounding Eagle Banner Brigade.

Through the gaps in the face-covering helt, he saw a pair of calm yet enchanting black eyes—how could anyone’s eyes look so beautiful?

He sighed inwardly for a mont, then without hesitation raised the war axe again.

Bam—

The Silver Armored Knight raised his palm, covered with chain armor gloves, and steadily pressed down on Henry’s palm, with just one hand, Henry seed to feel as if he were facing a mountain.

His hands holding the war axe couldn’t be lifted at all.

He exchanged a glance with the knight opposite, those sa calm and enchanting black eyes, he could even see the thick, long eyelashes atop those eyes.

"Such strength!"

Henry’s eyes were full of doubt, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t break free from the knight’s simple press.

Beside Henry, a knight seeing this raised a long halberd and smashed it towards the Silver Armored Knight.

The Silver Armored Knight’s movents were sowhat slow, only stepping back when the long halberd was near his head, narrowly avoiding this strike.

Under the helt, Prajna frowned slightly.

She hadn’t intended to dodge because such an attack, while able to penetrate the defense of her plate armor, couldn’t actually harm her body.

But thinking of Losa’s briefing before the battle, she realized that if she took such an attack head-on, it would likely be judged as using witchcraft as cheating.

Henry looked at the Silver Armored Knight in front of him who had lost his shield. Clearly, this was the weakest spot in this airtight shield wall, yet he couldn’t conjure the thought to break through here.

He didn’t have this thought, but that didn’t an others didn’t.

In the eyes of many Germanic knights, this enemy wearing a beautiful armor had lost his shield, like a giant dragon with a scale turned over, they ought to attack here and try to tear a bigger opening!

"Am I being seen as the breakthrough point?"

Prajna felt a bit odd inside, then the corner of her mouth slightly curved up: "Trying to resolve all of you without being too shocking is indeed a challenge."

Although she never showed any powerful swordsmanship or martial skills, always relying on her unbreakable defense, standing at the frontline against the enemy.

But this didn’t an Prajna couldn’t fight.

In her long life guarding the Hell Gate, battle was always indispensable, whether fighting wandering souls and ghosts or sparring with her Ghost Race peers, cold in nature but keen on fighting, she had accumulated superb fighting skills.

Only in the past, she generally wouldn’t use these skills.

After all, even if I stand still and let you hit , you still wouldn’t break my defense, what’s the point of parrying and dodging, just exchange injury for life directly.

Not far away, Jeanne was originally watching the scene with so schadenfreude.

Soon after, she saw Crown Prince Henry, frustrated before Prajna, actually turning his gaze towards her area.

"No way, you should go after the adults."

Jeanne mumbled.

She had been loafing around earlier, unexpectedly becoming the soft target, because the opposite formation led by Losa had long been seen by Henry as a tough bone not easily chewed.

And Prajna’s section had him feel sowhat eerie.

Naturally, he would choose Jeanne’s section to hit.

He was lucky, though, as the target he chose was not Jeanne, but an old soldier beside her.

Looking at his powerful, sinking axe, should it hit solidly, the shield and arm might be hacked apart brutally.

Bam—

Jeanne holding the shield, knocked over the enemy in front, using her Knight’s Sword vertically cutting down, directly hacking the wooden handle of Crown Prince Henry’s war axe from the center.

"Brat, I can give you so face, but if you want to hurt my people, I won’t agree."

Jeanne grumbled.

Crown Prince Henry looked incredulously at the remaining stump of wood in his hand, his mouth opened but he didn’t know what to say, looking at his elite troops, they unanimously slowed the offensive.

Until now, they still hadn’t achieved any success.

The only outco was rely leaving a dozen corpses in front of the shield wall.

Crown Prince Henry was a bit reluctant, but he clearly felt that his knights’ morale was rapidly declining, even he himself began to feel an illusion that the enemy was utterly unbeatable.

"Surrender."

Losa, wearing a Golden Mask, slowly walked out of the formation.

Crown Prince Henry opened his mouth, Losa’s simple three words montarily seed to pierce the proud barrier of his heart.

Indeed, surrender seed the best choice.

Continuing the fight, not only were the odds slim, even if he won, he couldn’t accept such a result.

After all, these people were the backbone of his command of the Sicily Kingdom, otherwise, even with the title of the Sicily Kingdom, he would very possibly find himself overshadowed by the entrenched Norman nobles.

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