Seven Hundred and Forty Eight

When Burrison leaned forward, there were finally not so many cold voices that made him irritated in his ears. He strode forward and once again slashed at the strange target in white robe.

The other party seemed to be ready to end the battle quickly, and rushed over, ready to take Burrison's sword head-on without dodging or evading.

The moment Burrison swung his long sword, the opponent raised one arm to gather a thick magical defense barrier on the palm, while the other hand stretched forward, aiming at Burrison's chest.

The white-robed man also seemed to have discovered that if he didn't break the armor on Borisen, he couldn't cause fatal damage to Borisen. So this time he aimed at Burrison's weakness and planned to get rid of Burrison at once.

There was no panic on Burrison's side either. He also used his other arm to make a defensive posture. The magic defense barrier on his arm lit up, and the speed of condensation was even faster than that of the opponent.

In an instant, the bodies of the two sides came into contact, and Burison felt a severe pain in his defensive arm, even with the blessing of the defensive magic circle.

And the sword he swung pierced through the opponent's magic defense barrier and struck the opponent's shoulder.

The familiar feeling of the long sword piercing the flesh came from the palm of his hand, and Burrison knew that his attack was successful this time.

He ignored the pain from his arm, and increased the destructive power of this sword as much as possible. The long sword produced by Ironforge Forge No. 1 also lived up to expectations, repaying Burrison's trust with super quality.

The moment Burison flew upside down, he saw that one side of the white robe was slowly falling down. He did hit the target, and he took a lot of it off.

However, now it seems that when the sword goes down, it may be just a piece of white cloth. Exchanging his arm for half of the other party's clothes, Burrison felt that this was the worst exchange he had ever done in his life.

But what happened to the illusion that he had struck something with his long sword, which was so real just now?

Just when he was hesitating, the white-robed man suddenly let out a shrill scream. Under the rest of the white robe, the body was twisting continuously, like a balloon being pulled by the manic internal gas. Like broken.

"It's hit!" Burrison was grateful for a ten-thousandth of a second, and then his body fell heavily into the trench and fell on a pile of shell casings.

He struggled to get up, and found that the left arm of his powered exoskeleton had been completely scrapped. The huge impact of the white-robed man just now had severely damaged the left arm of this expensive armor.

The original field touchpad for controlling the computer on the arm and some small parts fixed on the arm have changed beyond recognition, and the thick gauntlet has also been slightly deformed.

In his already quiet earphones, a cold computer prompt sounded again at this time: "The energy has been exhausted, please leave as soon as possible..."

"Crack!" All the armor that was originally fixed on the arm and leg were automatically pried off, only the deformed left arm remained motionless.

"Damn it, all the energy has been spent on defense..." Burrison, who broke away from the powered exoskeleton, pulled out his arm from the broken arm armor on the left, and jumped to the ground.

He glanced at the assault rifle fixed behind the exoskeleton body, because of the size and recoil, he couldn't use that thing at all now.

The long sword held in his right hand can no longer be used, and now he can only use the weapon he carries to continue fighting.

So he drew his self-defense pistol from his belt, climbed to the edge of the trench,

He pointed the weapon in his hand at the white-robed man who was "shuddering".

Just when he couldn't help pulling the trigger on the target, the white-robed man on the opposite side finally couldn't hold on, and exploded while struggling and twisting.

A huge impact made Burrison roll back into his trench again. He felt that he had been bad luck for eight lifetimes, and he would be in such a mess.

He scrambled and fell to the bottom of the pit. His ears were filled with the buzzing sound caused by the explosion. He couldn't hear the noise on the battlefield. It turned out that it was because of the matching noise-canceling headphones, but now it was because his ears were really being tested. .

"Damn it!" Burrison struggled to get up, once again climbed to the edge of the trench, poked his head out, and saw the white robe that had been blown into pieces, falling in front of his eyes.

Obviously, he killed a man in white robe and won the battle. He was so excited that he wanted to yell loudly, or he had already started to yell loudly. It's a pity that he couldn't hear his own voice, and the shouts in his mouth seemed to be thousands of miles away.

However, he was still very excited, because he still won the battle, the sudden encounter with the opponent's most elite troops.

It's a pity that after the excitement passed, he recovered his hearing, and suddenly realized that he just killed a white-robed man.

Another white-robed man turned his attention to Burrison in the trench after blasting a heavy grenadier with magic. The other party walked towards Burrison step by step, with both hands wrapped in light smoke that evaporated after burning.

That's right, there are still dozens of white-robed men raging on the battlefield, and Burison has just eliminated one white-robed man. He exhausted the energy of the powered exoskeleton, and he barely killed such a white-robed man...

While he killed the white-robed man just now, other white-robed men were killed by the grenadiers, and some white-robed men killed the grenadiers who blocked them.

This was a tragic battle. Many grenadiers died because their skills were inferior to others, and many grenadiers won their own victories by relying on tragic methods.

They fired the grenades they were carrying, and died together with the men in white robes who rushed over—the entire battlefield is now a mess, with empty white robes blackened by gunpowder smoke flying in the air, and heavy mecha wreckage paralyzed on the ground .

"Boom!" Burrison pointed his gun at the white-robed man who was rushing towards him, and pulled the trigger one by one. The bullet in his pistol rushed out of the barrel, and then splashed sparks on the magic circle in front of the white-robed man.

"Crack!" The last shot was fired, and the automatic pistol ejected the last shell, entering the state of waiting to be loaded. The slide was jammed at the end and the barrel was smoking lightly from the heat.

Burrison dropped his pistol, stared at the man in white robe who was close at hand, looked at the flames wrapped around his arm, and grinned.