Game of Thrones Overlord Conquest

Meng Ge had no choice. He didn't like the situation in front of him, so he slammed into the shield wall with all his strength. The machete flashed blood in the mercenary's dilated pupils. The soldiers in the front rows only had time to let out a scream, It was knocked to pieces.

"Steady, steady."

The mercenaries behind them roared even more hoarsely. They tried their best to stabilize their formation, but they were constantly forced to retreat. Their steps were unsteady, tripping over those who were struggling to support themselves at the end.

Soon, everyone fell into a melee again. The scimitar had already curled its blade during the slashing, but it was still extremely deadly in Meng Ge's hands. Those around him were seriously injured if they came even slightly closer.

He was extremely fast. Facing the incoming tomahawk, he grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it hard, making a sound of bone cracking.

Then, he grabbed the opponent's arm and threw him, knocking down several people in succession, clearing a gap, and finally rolled into the bonfire.

The vigorously burning flame suddenly went out, a plume of gray smoke shot straight into the sky, and many embers were scattered everywhere.

Then, the flames rose and became more intense. Taking advantage of the light and the gap, Mengge saw behind the soldiers a huge tent that was heavily guarded by many soldiers, and he could also hear many chaotic footsteps, which seemed to be heading towards Coming here.

The effect of the throw just now gave him a sudden idea. He reached out and grabbed the mercenary closest to him, yelled, and threw it out with all his strength, like a huge boulder thrown by a trebuchet, wiping out the enemies in front of him again.

The enemy who kept falling to the ground exposed the mercenary commander with flaxen white hair who was organizing an attack. This man stood there blankly, his body as stiff as if he was dead, and only his face could be seen. His muscles were shaking, and his face was covered with sweat from fear and nervousness.

Meng Ge roared, vented the suffocation in his chest, and rushed straight towards the white-haired mercenary. The scimitar drew a powerful arc and cut the opponent's body into two pieces.

The bloody sight caused the mercenaries to start shouting uncontrollably. They climbed up from the ground on all fours, turned around and retreated, frantically pushing their comrades who were running beside them.

Mengge threw away the scimitar in his hand and took out a giant sword from the weapon bag on his back. This sword was the weapon he had collected from the group of mercenaries he encountered on the road.

He did not chase these defeated troops. His target was only the Tiger Party governor Malachor Meguya.

This person was obviously still hiding in the commander's tent, because more and more newly arrived mercenaries did not come to besiege Mengge again, but gathered together spontaneously to guard the tent tightly.

Although he couldn't fully understand what the other commander was shouting, he knew that every word they spoke was repeating one word: "Meguya."

"Malachor, Malachor, I must be fast, I must be fast, otherwise the reinforcements from Velonces Town will come out."

Meng Ge murmured to himself.

He dragged the giant sword with one hand, and picked up the burned corpse from the fire with the other hand, and strode towards the commander's camp. The flames could not bring him any real harm at all.

It's just that this scene looks very scary, and it makes all the mercenaries guarding around the camp commotion. Since they were born, they have never seen anyone who is not afraid of flames.

Meng Ge approached the camp and tried his best to throw the corpse out. In an instant, the originally orderly camp garrison was in a panic. Even though the sparks on the corpse had been extinguished, there were people everywhere who wanted to avoid it.

"My hand, my hand."

The whistle sounded, the formation reorganized, and Mengge took the opportunity to hit him again. The mercenary guarding the front row felt as if his arms were broken in half.

He dashed left and right, knocking each mercenary to the ground. He waved his giant sword and blood and flesh flew everywhere. The enemies on both sides also fell immediately.

The "Prince in Tattered Clothes" of the Fengchui Regiment was very strict in managing the army, but tonight, the prince did not stay in the camp.

Not all mercenaries were brave and fearless, some were even very cowardly and selfish. Such a bloody scene, these guys were afraid of death, abandoned their duties, and fled their posts wailing, causing the entire formation to fall into complete turmoil.

Tonight, the sergeant in charge of the infantry is Hugh Hungerford, who is also a greedy and cowardly man. He was once the financial officer of the Wind Blowing Regiment. After being discovered stealing property, he was dismissed from his post and was given tatters as punishment. The prince chopped off three of his fingers.

"Stop, stay in formation, stop, otherwise, the prince's anger will burn you all alive."

Hugh Hungerford stamped his feet angrily and called loudly to the mercenaries who were fleeing in all directions, but the defeated soldiers were frightened and no one was willing to stop.

Seeing that his shouting had no effect but attracted Meng Ge's attention, he couldn't help but feel scared and his slender legs felt weak.

As soon as the thought that he might lose his life lingered in his mind, Xiufu did not hesitate, decisively left the command position and joined the escaping team.

The camp garrison who lost their command staggered back under Meng Ge's impact. Their roars became weaker and weaker, and their numbers became smaller and smaller. They were gradually swallowed up by the huge figure and turned into a blur of blood on the black ground. .

The giant was getting closer and closer, and the figure illuminated by the flames stood out between the canvas. Even though it was a hot summer day, Malachor seemed to be shivering with cold. He closed his eyes, not because he was afraid.

He just didn't know if his great deeds could continue to be sustained. Then he began to imagine who in the Tiger Party could inherit his legacy. What would happen to Volantis if his successor couldn't sustain it? Thinking of this, he felt The heart is as gray as death.

"I realized that even if my ambitions are lofty, my moral character is noble and pure, and I get all the support I want, if I don't have a suitable successor, it will still end in nothing."

Mengge ignored him. This sentence was Malachor's complaint or his last words. He sent the giant sword into the opponent's chest without mercy and turned around to leave.

The blazing flames engulfed the commander's tent in an instant. Malachor's legs could no longer support him. He fell to the ground stiff and cold, and lay there without saying a word. The scene of this life seemed to have disappeared before his eyes. passage.

The hot wind blew over his face, and he felt that he was getting farther and farther away from the ground. He closed his eyes involuntarily, clenched his fists, and did not let go until his death.