Chapter 411 Little Dragon Man

Toller held the bruise between his ribs, his face not pretty.

The Crusaders cheered like a roaring tsunami.

At this time, it was already afternoon, the sun above the head was no longer so fierce, and many soldiers were watching the duel with rapt attention.

It’s fun for those who have no experience in mounted combat.

The experienced knights and riders were filled with horror. No matter which one of these two men met on the battlefield, they would probably be killed in one round - the difference in strength was too huge.

That Hans was actually wielding an iron spear that seemed to be made of pure iron in battle. He was a monster!

Even a solid heavy lance made of pure wood often weighs no more than ten kilograms.

In this way, it is impossible for the knights to use a lance to make it light and easy, and to do all kinds of tricks.

The so-called description of holding a 60 to 70 kilogram long pole weapon and dancing like a hot wheel on horseback is often an expression of low-class bards who lack common sense or exaggerate.

On the opposite side, there was silence in the Saracen camp, and it was obvious that their morale had been dampened.

Over the years, the wars between the Crusaders and the Saracens had been victorious, but in most cases, the Saracens did not have an advantage in terms of numbers. With the same number of people, the winning rate was pitifully low.

After all, before Saladin, the popular Gulam cavalry in West Asia had transformed from Turkic mercenaries into an army that actually used lower-level slaves to fight, and its morale and combat effectiveness were generally low.

It was Saladin who improved or revived the Gulam system.

At the moment, seeing Hans being so brave, the Saracens' hearts trembled. Many of them recalled their own or their ancestors' previous defeats.

"These savage Franks, do they get their power from the devil?"

"O eternal sacred fire, please bless us to win this war and drive out the traces of the pagan devil from the holy Gudes (holy city)."

Some soldiers threw down their weapons and prayed devoutly facing the direction of the holy place.

Lothar, who was watching the game, asked: "Veneto, what do you think of Hans's performance?"

During this period, Veneto and Hans competed every day, winning and losing.

The former has been promoted to level 50, which is ten levels lower than Hans. Hans is supposed to have the advantage, but Veneto has more talent and combat experience than Hans, which happens to make up for it.

Veneto said with some insincerity: "Not bad. But sir, I don't understand knight duels. I have never even ridden a horse. After all, this kind of four-legged animal can't run as fast as my own two legs."

Veneto is not too interested in so-called knight duels. He comes from a "family" and is better at fighting in gang fights in narrow indoors or on the streets. He has never had experience in large-scale corps combat.

Sun Eclipse snorted and glanced at Veneto with some disdain, as if to say, if you don't agree with me, who can run faster?

Not to be outdone, Veneto glared at it.

If it were in the wilderness, his speed would probably be slightly slower than Sun Eclipse, but he would definitely have an advantage when sprinting over short distances or in city streets with complex terrain. After all, he could fly over walls and fly over walls, but Sun Eclipse could not.

Veneto didn't know that Eclipse also had the ability to fly over walls and walls. It could even ignore the influence of gravity and stand on the deck of the upturned Ocean Disaster.

"It doesn't matter, it's the second foot battle we agreed on."

Lothar patted Eclipse on the head and comforted the restless and restless horse.

Compared with the eclipse, Jeanne's grapes seem less unruly.

Jeanne suddenly said: "Oops."

At this time, the situation in the field has changed.

Hans, who originally seemed to have the upper hand, suddenly saw the body of the enemy opposite suddenly expand, the armor on his body was stretched and bulged, and the dragon's aura that was several times stronger than before filled the air.

Roar--

From the camp in the distance, the roar of a giant dragon could be heard.

In this, Lothar tasted the "encouragement of the boss to the younger brother". He frowned and suppressed his instinct to confront the dragon bloodline - this Karelian fire dragon, as a higher-ranking dragon than the Indominus Dragon, Powerful dragons at the same level as advanced fire dragons such as the Norwegian Spinyback Dragon and the Bronze-Horned Red Dragon can provide more abundant nutrients for the advancement of one's dragon bloodline.

Jeanne said worriedly: "The other side has transformed, Hans can't change?"

Lothar's voice was a little heavy, and he shook his head: "I told him before the battle that it doesn't matter whether he wins or loses in this duel, but he must not show the true form of the werewolf. This is related to my next plan."

"what's the plan?"

"A less glorious plan, but one that might work wonders."

In the uproar and surprised eyes of the Crusaders.

Hans was pulled off the horse by Torler, he picked up his arm and threw him over the shoulder. His strong physique was clearly visible. Hans weighed at least 200 kilograms with all the equipment, but it was as light as nothing in his hands.

boom--

Hans fell heavily to the ground. Although such an injury was nothing to the tenacious wolves, it still made him feel dizzy for a moment.

Under the closed helmet, Hans could vaguely hear the exclamations coming from the distance.

Before he could get rid of the dizziness in his head, the enemy swooped in again. The opponent took off his iron glove, revealing a ferocious and sharp dragon claw, and stabbed Hans in the heart.

Click——

The iron armor withstood the enemy's fatal blow and made an overwhelming sound of breaking.

Hans tried to break free from the enemy's grasp, but Thorler's power now had an overwhelming advantage, and his struggle was unable to shake it at all.

Under Toller's visor, two amber vertical pupils full of cruelty and violence stared at Hans like a lizard.

He pulled out a golden dagger from his waist.

He whispered: "Go to hell, little bastard."

Obviously, this is a magic-blocking gold weapon.

boom--

Hans suddenly raised his head, ignoring the magic-blocking gold dagger that was so close at hand, knocking Toller so dizzy that his body took the opportunity to escape from his grasp, directly took off the iron armor he wore on his head, and pointed Looking at Thorler's head showing a ferocious outline, he shouted:

"Saladin sent a monster to duel me!"

"This is dishonorable and disgusting behavior."

There was an uproar in the field.

Port Ella.

The sound of clanging footsteps was particularly clear in the middle of the night.

"Mr. Muller, you haven't rested at this late hour?"

Andreas held the torch and looked at Mueller standing on the observation deck, looking into the distance, and said with some confusion.

"Not yet. Ella Port is the top priority of your territory. Where can I relax and rest?"

Mueller smiled bitterly.

Although he is a member of the Lothar Order Knights, he rarely actually participates in the war. His main business is still the caravan he used to run, the shipyard and the Ella Port Tax Department that he was later in charge of.

The Port of Ella is now an important driving force for maintaining the war machine of Transjordan. Even if war comes, it is still the kingdom's only maritime access in the east.

A large number of traffickers who want to make war profits transport goods from all directions to the Port of Ella.

Even grain that could not be sold at a high price in the past can now be made at a huge profit.

Even though most of them belong to the Zoroastrian world.

The footprints of Genoese merchants reached as far as Ctesiphon and Baghdad on the Tigris River. For Europeans, the entire Fertile Crescent was the limit of their reach, and the more distant east was often the background of legends. .

For businessmen.

These golden coins make a sweet sound when they collide, whether they are named after Jesus Christ or the Eternal Holy Fire, they are all equally pleasing.

Taking advantage of the popularity of large quantities of munitions in Port Ella and not making a lot of money would be a disgrace to the reputation of the Saracens for being good at doing business.

"Mr. Mueller, you should go to bed early. I will be here tonight."

Andreas admonished.

Nowadays, Lothar's power to guard the territory is unprecedentedly weak, and it is easy for foreign enemies to take advantage of it. Even if the enemy does not intend to establish a foothold and just plunders, the damage to Lothar's territory will be huge.

Andreas stayed on duty until late into the night and was still in high spirits.

The bright moon above his head shone on his face, which was darkened by the sun in the Holy Land and turned as pale as snow at some point.

No sleep is needed, just a glass of blood can keep you energetic every day.

If he hadn't had to drink a bottle of human blood every other week, Andreas might have thought it was a gift from his heavenly father.

At this time.

There were clear footsteps behind Andreas.

Like treading in water.

With every step, there was a splashing sound of water.

Andreas turned around and looked at the visitors bathed in the moonlight and surrounded by green light. He frowned and said, "Are there any enemies?"

The visitor's body was in a semi-rotted state, with the turban commonly used by sailors wrapped around his head. His face looked carefree and indifferent. He was obviously a zombie sailor under Captain Hogg.

"Yes, that's right. The boss wants me to tell you that a Saracen fleet will arrive tomorrow morning. The enemy is huge in number. We probably won't be able to annihilate them all. If there are any fish that slip through the net, you have to do it in advance. So defensive.”

Andreas said nervously: "How many enemies are there?"

The visitor scratched the non-existent back of his head - Andreas was even worried that his fingers would poke his gray brain.

"Let me think."

"Probably—ten thousand ships."

Andreas was silent for a moment, clenched his fists, and thought to himself, what the hell are you doing to your grandma? There are not even ten thousand active merchant ships and warships on the entire east coast of the Mediterranean.

"I will be prepared in advance."

Andreas sighed: "Also, please tell Captain Hogg. Forget it, don't tell me. I'll write a letter and bring it to you."

The content is: Please use a more reliable messenger next time.