Chapter 643 Legend

In the horrified eyes of Governor Majid, Lothar slowly raised one arm. In the burning woods behind him, the flames went out without any warning. One by one, the winged cavalrymen came behind him, stepping on the black embers.

They held the red long-pole lances with red square flags on the tips of their lances, and their faces were unusually calm.

Having just experienced such a cruel war in the combat record world, they could not get excited about the small scene they were facing now.

"Kill them all."

The knight wearing a golden mask waved his arm forward and uttered a string of short words without mercy.

The cavalrymen behind him rushed out like tigers out of the cage.

"In the name of God!"

"For Saint Lothar!"

The iron cavalry marched briskly, forming a loose formation. As the distance got closer, their speed was gradually increasing.

At this moment, Governor Majid no longer had the slightest thought of fighting.

He no longer considered the credit for the first victory and finding a port leading to the Mediterranean for his territory.

Even a powerful spellcaster like Master Ali was defeated here in one encounter. Now he just wanted to survive and return to his territory. No matter how fierce the battle was outside, he only had to defend Fayoum and wait for them to decide the winner before choosing one side to surrender to.

But obviously, those Franks would not let them go.

Adil hurt me!

Governor Majid cursed in his heart and urged his guards to bring him a new mount.

"Governor, the enemy's spellcaster didn't continue to attack, we still have a chance!"

"Yes, at least there is a chance to evacuate!"

Majid climbed onto his mount and shouted loudly to organize the enemy.

But when the real fight started, the soldiers under his command collapsed at the first touch.

He was different from most Saracen nobles. Traditional Saracen nobles either squandered their wealth on pleasure, female slaves, and boys; or pursued art, raised scholars, built libraries, shrines, altars, and even explored ancient ruins.

He was an outlier. He lived a simple life, married only one wife, had very few slaves, and invested most of his wealth in his territory.

He built canals, dug wells, and trained the army.

He was confident that the Mamluks under his command were definitely the best in Egypt, at least stronger than the extremely unruly black Gulams under Adil.

However, the direction of the war gave him a blow.

With the winged cavalry as the blade, the armored cavalry as the backbone, and the monastic cavalry as the two wings, it was like a hot knife cutting into butter.

Every Frankish cavalryman seemed to have experienced hundreds of battles, with extremely skilled fighting skills and a hard-core fighting will. When they killed the enemy, they would not even blink.

It seemed that this level of fighting was as easy as a rural outing for them.

He saw with his own eyes that his army was dispersing like snowflakes.

The slave cavalrymen bought from the Caucasus and Asia Minor at a high price could not resist the charge of the Frankish cavalry at all. They quickly fell apart, were cut, surrounded, and then swallowed.

"Impossible, this is impossible!"

He felt a black screen in front of his eyes and almost fell to the ground.

Then, he suddenly felt a cold blade against the back of his neck.

"Protect the adults."

The shouts soon turned into a series of screams.

Immediately, Majid saw the female swordsman staring at him expressionlessly. Behind him, there were corpses everywhere. The armor on his guards, who were built at a high price, did not cause any obstacles to the enemy. Without even a breath, they all died tragically under the sword of this female devil.

"Don't! Don't kill me! I can pay the ransom!"

He raised his hands to indicate that he was not holding a weapon.

Not far away, Lothar was still sitting quietly on the back of Eclipse, watching this almost one-sided battle.

He suddenly raised his head as if he had a feeling and looked into the distance.

"Did he see us?"

Adil looked at the mirror with some surprise, as if he had crossed the barrier of space and was looking at Lothar, his heart was beating wildly.

Even though there was a mirror between them, he still felt like he was being stared at by a terrifying beast.

He subconsciously looked at Master Shemaier beside him.

The master's expression was still calm, but his frown still cast a layer of gloom in Adil's heart. You know, Shemaier had officially announced that he had entered the legendary realm yesterday.

Even he found it difficult, could it be that Lothar had also made a breakthrough?

"I didn't expect Ali to die so soon."

Shemaier sighed lightly and waved his hand to eliminate the picture on the mirror.

Master Ali's level is actually not bad, it's just that the climate of the Holy Land limits his performance. If he were in his home ground, those primeval forests with countless ancient trees and few human traces, even if he is not a legend, he can still exert a power close to that of a legend.

"What a pity."

He sighed lightly. The spellcasters in the natural realm are obviously not best at fighting. As long as they sincerely submit, whether they assist in some alchemical experiments, cultivate magic potions, or shine in the field of agriculture, the value they can play is far greater than fighting.

Adil pretended to say: "Master Ali died for the holy war and will surely ascend to heaven."

Although he has gained a lot of knowledge on the extraordinary level, he still has a partial understanding of many things. He obviously does not know what Master Ali, a high-level spellcaster in the natural field, represents.

Even if he knew, he wouldn't care too much.

No matter what, is it possible that the desert can be turned into fertile farmland like the sacred tree seized by the Franks?

As for ourselves, as long as we defeat the Crusaders, the three sacred trees will all belong to them.

"I advised him not to take risks, but now it seems that this has had the opposite effect."

Shemeier shook his head and smiled bitterly. Although the spellcasters of the advisory group were nominally headed by him, and their attitude towards him was extremely respectful after he broke through the legend, they didn't know what they were thinking in their hearts.

You can guess it, it's nothing more than "good luck" or "having the light of an artifact left over from ancient civilization" or something like that.

This Master Ali couldn't even be convinced by his words, and simply ignored his advice - these old antiques who buried their heads in the mountains and forests, studying magic, had such weird tempers.

"Master, are you sure you can deal with Lothar and his spellcasters?"

Adil pressed on, and this was the most crucial point.

Shemeier sneered: "He has indeed made a breakthrough. It seems that it should be a sublimation of the life level, evolving from a half-dragon with mixed blood to a real giant dragon, but that is actually nothing to be afraid of. "

Even among high-level dragons, only those ancient dragons that have lived for thousands of years can rival the legends.

He said softly: "Well, let me show you what a 'legend' is."

Although, when he stepped into the realm of legend, he did rely on foreign objects and took a shortcut.

But because of this, he has mastered a super-standard artifact like the wedge-shaped clay tablet, and coupled with the fact that he is a spellcaster in the legendary field, the two of them are superimposed, and his current combat power is many times stronger than before.

Even now that the world has returned to the ancient mythological age, with his strength, he can still stand on an equal footing with many ancient gods.

"And in this era, even gods must bow to legends."

I saw him stretching out a finger and slowly tapping it on the mirror.