Accompanied by the clanging sound of metal armors clashing, Viscount Philland, wrapped in a gray and black shawl, strode onto the stone pavement of this dark and dirty alley outside the inner city, his face so gloomy that he could almost make water.
After being severely beaten by that bitch Margarita during the day, at night, their dear Majesty used an order to forcibly pull him up from the three maids on the bed and take him as his personal guard.
In the name of bringing a team of soldiers to this ghost place where the beggar's corpse and feces are piled up, to search for the source of the explosion.
What a hell this beautiful day has been!
Philland kept shouting bad luck in his heart.
When pedestrians on the road saw the turbulent waves sweeping through the surrounding taverns and the guards at the women's branch, the expressions on their faces were truly astonishing, and they all ran very fast.
The city guards, led by Phil Rand, entered the taverns and shops in small groups one by one, and they cooperated very well.
Because this is Vizima, what these Nilfgaardian camp veterans like best is this kind of "three noes" sweeps program - no restrictions, no rules, no reasons.
Every time they come here, they will be able to replenish their pockets with enough money to spend for a month or two.
As for how many similar or different family deaths this money represents - except for those dead people, who cares?
Although Philland was born into a noble family, he also obtained his current title through military service, so he knew the ropes.
Because these bugs have to give him forty percent, otherwise the next quartermaster will let them know how long they can live on shit without a weekly salary.
This kind of rule has almost formed a complete industrial chain from top to bottom in the Nilfgaardian army.
Now, Viscount Philland, who was forcibly dragged out of bed and the gentle countryside, could only rely on the meager remuneration he could get after the cleaning for comfort.
While thinking about it, Viscount Philland rubbed the dimly lustrous golden ring on his middle finger and sighed silently in his heart.
'Making money is really hard work.'
'You actually have to collect the money yourself.'
Just as he was sighing to himself, another group of soldiers rushed into a less noisy tavern, but with bright lights on.
Philland didn't even bother to look at it, and even sneered in his heart.
These idiots are really hungry.
Just as the thought flashed through my mind, a thunderous explosion and rumble suddenly sounded in my ears.
"boom---"
Philland was startled. He instinctively looked back and saw a tall chestnut-haired man dressed as a wandering knight holding the neck of a fully armed soldier with one hand and lifting it up like a chicken.
, lifted in mid-air.
Under his feet, wooden debris and stones scattered in the shape of a shock wave. The soldiers who had just rushed in also twisted and fell to the ground. Judging from the hard and painful struggle, they should not die.
.
It's just that the cry of pain is a little scary.
Philland turned around and instinctively shrank behind the guards at first, but then he remembered that he was accompanied by dozens of soldiers who were all professionals. He immediately straightened his head and chest, and spoke in a slightly sharp voice with a strange tone.
"Let me just say that Your Majesty is too kind to these unruly people in Temeria! For these unruly people, they should use a massacre to let them understand why the majesty of Nilfgaard is inviolable."
As he spoke, Philland proudly drew out the thin sword from his waist, and used the sharp sword tip to point contemptuously at the man in front of him.
"Untouchable, you are the damn troublemaker, right? Do you know how much precious time you have wasted Lord Philland? Huh? You unreasonable fool."
Philland complained a few words, twisted his head and shouted to the soldiers around him,
"What are you looking at? Hurry and capture him and present him to His Majesty! Do you want me to do it myself? Hurry up!"
While he was shouting, Philland suddenly realized that something seemed not quite right.
When he looked down, he saw that the mental protection brooch on his chest was flashing faintly.
The surrounding soldiers stood in place.
If you look carefully, you can vaguely see that their legs are shaking, and some of them can hardly even stand still.
Philland's heart lurched.
Um?
Before he could turn around in his mind, the low-quality mental protection brooch suddenly cracked a small slit, and Philland's mind suddenly shook, as if a magic landmine was inserted into his mind.
It exploded instantly, directly connecting the trembling mind and body.
It seems like my bladder and sphincter are a little out of control.
The man who just now seemed ordinary in his eyes was now as majestic as His Majesty sitting on the throne, holding a scepter, wearing a crown, and surrendering to everyone he looked at.
It makes people tremble.
Philland's legs shook, and he was even worse than the big-headed soldiers around him, and he almost sat down on the ground.
The reason why I could barely stand was because the muscles in my legs were already stiff.
However, Borch, who was standing in the middle of the open space, didn't even bother to look at him - this kind of waste with almost no elemental fluctuations on his body could be crushed to death at any time, and there was no need for dialogue.
"come out."
Borch faced the sky and shouted inexplicably.
"Pah, pah, pah..."
Before seeing the person, I heard his voice first. Following a burst of loud applause, the empty space suddenly opened up like a curtain, revealing several figures hidden inside.
The leader was a man with short blond hair, wearing a long-sleeved leather windbreaker and gloves.
Beside him, in addition to two guards who were as tall as bear bears, wearing heavy armor and holding big swords, stood a bald male warlock in robes.
However, whether they were guards or warlocks, standing in front of this man with a resolute face, they were reduced to mere foils, and their aura was steadily suppressed.
Moreover, even in the scope of such a violent dragon's power, this man always looked calm and calm, without wavering at all.
The voice is hoarse and low.
"I'm sorry that I let you see the not-so-good side of Nilfgaard. First of all, let me introduce myself. My name is Marseille Voulis. Or, you can also call me - Prince Voulis."
Borch stared intently, with a pair of golden vertical pupils in his eyes, silently looking at the people around him.
The serious smile on Prince Fulis's face faded slightly, and his eagle-like eyes looked directly at Borch.
Borch's voice slowly spread throughout the venue, low and calm, as if he was describing the simplest facts.
"The moment you dare to offend this gentleman, you will die without a burial place."
Prince Fulis' pupils suddenly shrank.
The legendary warrior beside him immediately drew his sword and stood in front of him in a protective posture.
Bolqi's originally strong body of over 1.9 meters swelled again. As his muscles expanded and tightened, his original human appearance gradually faded away, revealing a body of golden dragon scales, a pair of fleshy wings bulging from his back, and his face elongated and deformed.
Make a half-long kiss.
"Sure enough, is it a giant dragon?"
Prince Fulis whispered to himself when he saw this scene.
But he didn't feel very nervous.
Although he has never seen it before, even the rumored extremely powerful dragon must have its limits.
What's more, he has brought three professionals close to the legendary level this time, so I don't believe he will be able to do it...
"boom---"
Before Prince Fulis could react, the soldier standing in front of him suddenly seemed to have received an unbearable impact. His whole body disappeared from the place like a cannonball, dragging a long line on the hard stone floor.
The long, diffuse ravine looks like it has been gnawed by a dog from a distance.
A deafening roar exploded in my ears.
Even his slicked back hair was torn into a windy shape by the hurricane.
Bolqi, who had transformed into a half-dragon form, threw away the warrior he was dragging, and smashed it to the ground with a layer of soil waves. The slightly more dilapidated houses in the alleys and streets collapsed in the shock, causing large swaths of earthquakes.
Smoke and dust.
The berserker in heavy armor immediately drew out his axe, roared, and jumped up to ten meters in his direction. The double-edged ax was raised high above his head. His huge and strong body, which was more than two meters tall, was equipped with a thick armor that was nearly a meter tall.
With a weight of tons, it swooped down from mid-air surrounded by air waves.
The warlock behind him waved his magic staff and recited several syllables in a low voice. The berserker and himself flashed at the same time, and the clanging sound of Qingyue's armor rang in their ears.
[Armor Spell: Helm of Willennorred]
Borch faced his huge burning ax unhurriedly, seemingly close to the edge of the ax blade, but in fact he turned sideways just right to avoid the blow.
The moment they passed each other, the five fingers of the dragon's claws came together, and the fingernails were like five sharp knives, effortlessly piercing through the outer armor spell like piercing cardboard.
However, with the short delay of the armor spell, the violent berserker immediately realized the gap between the enemy and ourselves, and moved away very quickly with the long metal ax handle. The red ax blade wrapped with blood was almost visible to the naked eye.
The turbulent liquefied air is dragged downward at super high speed.
Even the sonic boom couldn't catch up with their movements.
However, in the midst of this ultra-high-speed alternation of lightning and flint, the berserker could vaguely see a mocking smile on Borch's face.
Before he could react, he felt the ax in his hand being pulled by an unimaginable force, causing him to stagger.
Then, Borch grabbed the ax handle, easily pulled the ax from the berserker's hand as if snatching it from a child's toy, and kicked the opponent in the chest.
The special alloy heavy armor that was three fingers thick suddenly dented under this kick. A mouthful of blood suddenly spurted out from the berserker's mouth, and his entire body was kicked into the ground.
The huge impact force caused the surrounding flat plates to bulge high after he crashed into the stone road, and the land in all directions cracked as if expanding, with bursts of rumbling sounds.
Borch's movements did not stop at all. He twisted his feet and turned around. The big ax, which did not even have time to fade away at high speed, was swept away in the direction behind him by the wind and waves under the combined action of waist and arm strength.
, the ax blade scraping through the air is like a boat cutting a long white wave on the sea.
Behind him, the soldier who had just jumped up from the ground and swung his sword at Borch's back had a confused look on his face.
The battle ax swung horizontally and fell to his waist. With a harsh sound of metal tearing like a cat's claws across a blackboard, the ax blade actually tore his armor from the middle, cutting off a large piece of armor.
The sticky blood was so thick that even the long sword was broken by one blow.
Borch was carrying a large ax with a blunted blade. Compared to the huge size of the long axe, it looked like a normal adult carrying a kitchen knife.
Prince Fulis stood where he was, with the same serious face as before, but the bulging Adam's apple on his neck was sliding up and down uncontrollably.
He showed his nervousness very covertly.
"First, sir. I want us to..."
Bolqi ignored him and raised the ax high like a kitchen knife, the golden scales on his body glowing faintly.
“We still have something to talk about!!!”
"Borchi."
The action of swinging the ax stopped abruptly.
The ax blade stopped just three inches above Fulis's forehead.
Prince Fulis's neck stiffened, and on his serious face, his eyes stared at the blunt ax blade parked in front of his head, staring intently.
Clang.
The big ax was thrown to the ground carelessly, and Prince Vliss's eyes almost fell to the ground as well.
"gentlemen."
Borch bowed slightly towards the direction of the tavern.
Han Baiyi walked out of the quiet tavern holding the big club bone of the griffon's hind leg. He looked at the ground that looked like it had been ravaged by a group of prehistoric brachiosaurs, and then looked at the berserkers and warriors who had vomited less than three liters of blood. They had expressions on their faces.
He waved his hands indifferently.
"Be kind and don't suffer."
"Okay, sir."
Seeing Han Baiyi returning to the tavern and continuing to chew meat, Borch straightened up with a kind expression, shrunk back into a human state again, and looked at Prince Fulis and his bodyguards.