I Keep Witches While Others Keep Dragons

Andrew couldn't understand why they were so fearless.

The strength gap between the two sides was so big that it was impossible to make up for it with numbers or tactics.

In such a situation, they should choose to retreat as soon as possible.

No matter what, they should take a roundabout tactic.

But they didn't.

They let the fighters fight with them bravely and cover for the useless old, weak, sick, and disabled to leave.

Regardless of the importance or the probability of survival, the fighters should retreat first.

What happened to them?

Looking at the four corpses in front of him, Andrew felt a little confused and indecisive.

"Andrew, Is that okay?"

Taylor, who was covered in blood, walked up to them. She could tell from her eyes that she didn't have the heart to kill them. "Among the people I chased, they are all old, weak, sick, and disabled."

"They were not strong at all, and many of them were still babies who hadn't grown up."

"One of them even cried and begged for mercy."

"Did you kill him?" Andrew asked.

Pursing her lips, Taylor answered with difficulty, "Yes."

"That's good."

Andrew took a deep breath and tried to recall the classic cases of the rebel army to resist the sense of treachery.

"The rebel army secretly infiltrated every country, every organization, and even the magic association."

"They had stirred up turmoil by provoking international relations. In the past ten years, there had been at least two hundred turmoil caused by the rebel army."

"At least 100,000 people died directly or indirectly because of the rebel."

"The society needed to be stable, and what the rebel army wanted to destroy was the stability of the society, and to subvert the magic association."

"Rachel had taught all these in her class."

Andrew's words made Taylor even more difficult to accept, "I know all these, but there is no need to kill the old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled."

Andrew said seriously, "Remember, before the old, the weak, and the disabled, they were the rebel army."

"Even if they couldn't participate in the battle directly, they would provide the logistic and other convenience for the rebel army, so that they could spare more people."

"As for the children, they would become the rebel army when they grew up, let alone let them live."

"But..."

Taylor wanted to say something more, but Andrew's back made her speechless.

Because she could see that Andrew's whole body was tense and slightly trembled. The hand he held the wand was so hard it creaked.

It turned out that Andrew was also struggling.

Taylor understood at this moment.

Andrew had his morality.

Killing the old, the weak, the children, and the weak without any resistance would have a greater impact on Andrew's mind than dealing with a strong man like the Red King.

But as the leader, Andrew had to keep a calm and authoritative image all the time.

He was also trying hard to put a restraint on the contradictions in his heart.

"Clean up the scene. I'll go chase them."

Then Andrew opened his two pairs of frost wings and rushed towards the ice and snow.

"Hahaha..."

After running for more than ten minutes, he had to resist the cold in the heavy snow all over the sky. Stout's magic power was already exhausted.

He didn't know how far he had run.

He only knew that the only thing he could do now was to run.

As long as he was not in a coma and had a little strength, he must cherish his life and try his best to escape from the four demons' hands.

This life was given by everyone.

'So many young men sacrificed to keep me alive.'

'It's not up to me to decide whether to live or to die.'

Live!

'I had no choice but to live!'

'My death is the greatest blasphemy against comrades!'

Magic power was used up, so Stout could only continue to move forward with the help of the few remaining physical strength.

His vision was blurred and his hands and feet were so cold that he couldn't control them.

He felt a sharp pain in his lungs.

Run... Keep running... Don't stop!

However, there was a limit to his will.

Finally.

With a strong sense of dizziness, Stout collapsed into the snow.

He ran to exhaustion.

He couldn't even move a finger.

Comrades... How many survivors?

Did everyone survive?

Stout was worried about the 2,000 compatriots in the camp.

However, at this moment.

"Enough running?"

A cold voice came from above.

Out of the corner of his eye, the face came into Stout's view.

Stout felt like his heart skipped a beat.

How was that possible?

The wind and snow of the Night Empire could block perception.

'I have run for so long, but he caught me so easily!'

"Save your energy. Come back with me."

The young man was about to grab him.

Of course, Stout knew that he wanted to capture him alive, and he also knew the purpose of the magic association.

He made up his mind...

Although he felt sorry for his comrades, he couldn't be caught alive.

His will urged his body to burst out the last strength.

Stout pulled out a dagger and stabbed it into his throat, trying to commit suicide on the spot.

But to his surprise.

Ice spear

Bang.

With a flick of Andrew's finger, Stout's hand holding the dagger was pierced through by an ice spear as thick as a finger and nailed to the ground.

The dagger was caught less than a millimeter away from his throat.

"Suicide is useless."

The young man's cold voice rang in his ears.

He tried to pull out his hand, but the ice spear nail was so hard that even the bones of his palm were broken, he could not pull it out.

He tried to bite his tongue and commit suicide, but his face was held by the young man. His thumb and middle finger were clasped between the face and the teeth, and the mouth covered by the palm could not close.

At this moment, Stout was desperate.

Ice coffin

As the young man started the magic.

The indestructible ice began to spread up from the tip of his feet and soon wrapped Stout's whole body.

At this moment, Stout was desperate.

Before his head was wrapped, he stared at the young man in front of him, trying to engrave the young man's face into his soul and DNA.

'I'm sorry, comrades.'

'I didn't survive.'

'I'm sorry, comrades.'

'I didn't die.'

'I let you down.'

As his eyes were covered by ice, Stout's consciousness gradually faded away.

Andrew loosened his grip and looked at the leader of the rebel army who was completely sealed in an ice coffin.

Especially the unwilling eyes under the ice.

Andrew hesitated.

The target had been captured alive.

The annihilation rate of the rebel army was more than 80%.

Mission accomplished.

But he always felt that something was wrong.