Twenty-one, the end of the most chaotic street

  Behind the morning mist that had yet to dissipate, the sun was already high in the sky, but the battle that had been ongoing throughout the night in the canyon still showed no signs of ending.

  Clashing steel rang out, fresh blood splattered everywhere, the dog and bear-like creatures and the spirits roared together, while humans and Zorvath on the periphery held various weapons, trembling as they watched from a distance.

  Although the ill-fated bear squad had sharp steel claws installed on their front paws, they were still vulnerable to the blessed longsword of the elf knight and couldn't withstand a single blow. Even if they managed to stab the knights' bodies, the exquisite magic armor could block most of the damage from ordinary weapons. In the initial clash, although they had courage, both the attacking "spear" and the defensive "shield" were no match for their opponents, and the bear warriors fell one after another, letting out mournful cries as they rolled around on the snowy ground with holes all over their bodies.

  However, the Dog Bears' weapons were not just the steel claws on their paws; their massive bodies were their best weapons. Under the leadership of Great Druid Vini, more than 200 Dog Bears charged towards the densely formed ranks of the Elf Knights. Although many were killed in mid-air by handguns, magic or long swords, the number of Elves was only one-third that of the Dog Bears. Amidst the dull collision sounds, one after another delicate Elf Knight was knocked to the ground by the charging Dog Bears, engaging in close combat at zero distance.

  No matter how formidable a warrior is, if there isn't even enough space to stretch out one's hand, then no matter how excellent the martial skills are, they can't be displayed. The massive dog bear and the slender elf were rolling around in the muddy snow trampled by military boots, reducing their combat skills from professional level to infantile level. In a purely brute force confrontation, the elves suffered greatly due to being caught off guard. Many knights were crushed to death by piles of dog bears, their ribs broken and vomiting blood.

  However, the knights blessed by the gods would never be so fragile. The holy power attached to their armor and weapons is not just for show, and the blades of their companions can also help them get rid of the heavy troubles on their bodies. Accompanied by the golden light on the church knight's body, a hapless bear dog was helpless, waving its limbs, and then being knocked into the air by the sudden repulsive force from the small opponent's body, with a long sword or bullet inserted into its body when it fell to the ground.

  However, the dog bears fought bravely and successfully blocked the elves' advance, while also boosting the morale of the remaining giant bear soldiers. The last few dwarves, after drinking a large jug of homemade liquor, snatched the wolf-toothed club from the trembling beastman's hands and charged forward, shouting incomprehensible drunken words. Although humans and trolls still hadn't regained their courage to engage in close combat, they basically recovered to the level of militia who hid at a distance and fired cold guns. The elven army, eager to break through, stabilized its footing despite increasingly frequent attacks, but was not annihilated by these weak soldiers. However, their original plan to break out with one swift attack had thoroughly turned into a pipe dream.

  As the battle continued to drag on, soldiers of other races within the Elf Army who had not run far also stopped in their tracks and returned to the battlefield one after another under the inspiration of their superior's bravery. They drew out their weapons from among the charred earth and layers of corpses, and engaged in a long-range shootout with those people who had just degenerated from Speed-type Berserkers into cowards and then evolved again into half-baked militia. The valley was once again filled with the sound of gunfire, as if the Elf Army had begun a full-scale counterattack that would turn the tide of battle.

  But this was merely a flash in the pan. By the time the ill-fated Bear Squad charged again, the Elven army had lost its last chance to retreat. As dozens of cannons rolled over the bodies of humans, elves, trolls, dwarves and bear men, their dark muzzles trained on the huddled elven remnants, all resistance became meaningless.

  Sophia gasped for breath, kneeling on one leg, with one hand propping herself up in the mud mixed with blood and water, barely supporting herself to prevent falling. Her entire body was covered in her own and others' blood, her clothes torn into shreds by bullets and claws. The mount under her had long since fallen, carrying a full load of lead pellets, letting out a mournful cry as it fell to the ground. Even the military sword she carried had been bent from hacking too much, unable to be sheathed. It was simply discarded on the ground. Looking left, all that could be seen were layers upon layers of corpses. Looking right, there were also layers upon layers of corpses. The distant gunfire had already stopped, and the number of enemies in sight was increasing. Amidst the choking smell of blood and gunpowder, a thick scent of death wafted through the air.

  How many years has it been, Sophia? How long has she not encountered such a desperate situation? Even when she was defeated by the Tekumseh chieftain of the Mazkaland continent, she had never felt so urgent and helpless. Now, she truly felt the arrival of death, which is the first time since she left her assassination career, and probably the last time too.

  The last batch of knights dispatched by the church were still fighting against tens of times more enemies, and they killed those dark elves who completely disgraced their ancestors' reputation step by step. However, even armor blessed by gods could not mitigate the destructive power of a ten-pound lead bullet. Listening to the enemy's artillery shouting orders, the next round of bombardment should be coming soon.

  She was resentful and indignant. The enemy in front of her had neither courage nor combat skills, and they were completely like street thugs, blindly rushing forward and then scattering without discipline. These cowardly Nords did not dare to engage in a fair fight with their own strength, but instead drove beasts to serve as cannon fodder, using heavy artillery to bombard their last infantry, and allowing snipers to shoot cold guns in close combat - she never thought about whether her indiscriminate slaughter of civilians was contrary to military honor, but always had high standards for others in her heart, in order to cultivate hatred. This is also the trick of Xe'zeth, the elven god of hatred, to recruit followers: loosely binding oneself and strictly demanding others, and hating when one's wishes cannot be fulfilled. It was so easy to cultivate anti-system factions.

  She was equally disheartened and regretful. No matter how incompetent and ugly the enemy's performance was, losing was still losing. Unlike her distant relative Idriel Lirien, who was afraid of death, Sophia Lirien never had the habit of preparing a transmission ornament on herself, nor did she have any intention of entering the prisoner-of-war camp. The bravest elf warrior in front of Lord Xuefeng's seat. How could she bow her head to the running dog of the alien god? But now, she was extremely regretful for not having prepared a lifesaving retreat route.

  The wails in various languages, the clashes of all sorts of weapons and the sounds of blades entering flesh gradually grew fainter.

  People screamed and slowly backed away, but for the exhausted Jing Yue, this was not a moment to catch his breath, but rather the beginning of an even more severe test.

  "Rumble!"

  "Rumble!"

  Smoke billowed up, bullets whizzed by. With a loud explosion. Sophia's ears rang, completely losing her hearing. Clods of earth, shattered stones accompanied the shattered limbs and weapons that slammed into her body, leaving streaks of blood, only gradually subsiding. She struggled to lift her dazed head, dazedly wiping away the dirt on her face, but was shocked to find that everything around her seemed to have brightened suddenly.

  No, it wasn't the surroundings that were getting brighter, but rather the spirit knights around her had all fallen. There was no one left to block the enemy's bullets and pounce on the dog bears for her. Sophia, still deaf from the buzzing in her ears, looked up and glanced around. Hundreds of black gun barrels were aimed at her, with a bunch of vicious-looking dog bears squeezed behind them, their eyes gleaming with malice. She was so frightened that she jumped up and retreated two steps, but tripped over a corpse and fell to the ground on her buttocks.

  The enemy soldiers still surrounded the old woman, their guns and spears pointed at her chest, without any sign of relaxation. After a while, the crowd was suddenly stirred up, making way for a young woman wearing a pastor's robe to walk over. She stopped ten steps away from Sophia and said something, but Sophia's ears were still buzzing, and she didn't hear anything clearly, only staring at the newcomer with her dull eye.

  After a while, the female pastor saw that she had no reaction. She repeated what she said earlier in an even louder voice, and this time Sophia barely made out something. Although the female pastor's Elvish was both garrulous and not very standard, she could still distinguish words like surrender, life, and safety. This was enough to make her understand what was going on.

  Do you want to surrender shamefully as the first brave warrior of the Temple of Xuefeng? This is simply a joke! Let's not talk about whether Sophia herself is willing to surrender, even if she really surrenders, the enemy has long been resentful of her past killings and will not give her any normal treatment. Moreover, the Liriaton family and the royal government will not redeem her, this thorn in their eyes and flesh, but will let her fend for herself on the enemy's side. Even the Xuefeng Temple, which values itself so much, cannot forgive such a cowardly and treacherous act. Perhaps the temple will even send an assassin to silence her and declare that she was captured purely fabricated, in order to avoid staining the temple's glorious model.

  When an ordinary person is blown up to be incredibly great by the organized propaganda machine, it also means that any retreat will make him fall to pieces. It's just as the old saying goes: The higher you climb, the harder you fall!

  Idril Lirien can survive in a prisoner-of-war camp, but Sophia Lirien absolutely cannot, neither by the enemy nor by her own people!

  She gazed at the female pastor in front of her with a mixture of pity and disdain, just as she was about to make a scornful gesture, but her eyes caught sight of the stacked corpses on the ground, and her raised hand fell back down, uttering words that were completely contrary to what she truly felt.

  "Do you have the right to decide whether I can get treatment that matches my status? I want a guarantee from your highest official!"

  The "Ghost Rose" in front of her eyes unexpectedly really intended to surrender, and Lenny was extremely excited. Last time she captured a lieutenant general from the Idriel region, it made the central government of the empire marvel. This time if she could capture the notorious "Ghost Rose" alive, her little boyfriend would probably be promoted several ranks! She hastily agreed to Sofia's request and pulled out Fili, who was hiding behind the crowd.

  "Are you the highest official here?" Sophia asked with some confusion as she saw a young man in casual clothes and a shaved head appear before her.

  "It's true, I'm Colonel Feli below, currently serving as the commander of the Giant Bear Corps." Feli showed off his own lieutenant colonel insignia and mage badge, then once again tried to persuade Sofia to surrender, "I guarantee that you will receive civilized and reasonable treatment after your surrender." (Such a super valuable war prize must be treated well, or else the credit would be greatly reduced if she died.)

  Having obtained the guarantee, Sofia let out a long sigh, picked up her own sword, and held it high above her head with both hands as she knelt down before Fili. Fili also accepted the sword with both hands, completing this traditional surrender ceremony. Seeing that the enemy had surrendered, the surrounding soldiers also relaxed, putting down their guns and shouldering their weapons once again.

  After handing over the military sword, Sofia used her hands to support the ground and tried to stand up. However, her legs seemed a bit inconvenient, and she had just taken a few steps before being tripped by a corpse and fell to the ground again. Fili looked back and gestured for two soldiers to help her, then turned around again.

  But in that instant, Sophia swiftly snatched the flintlock rifle from the corpse of the giant bear soldier and before anyone else could react, she had the muzzle trained on Fili's back - the gun was already loaded!

  "You've been had, little guy!"

  Sophia's wrinkled old face, like the bark of a withered tree, revealed a triumphant sneer as she pulled the trigger at the alchemist who still hadn't figured out what was happening, and a string of sounds echoed between the sparks.

  The sound of gears crashing into flint and striking sparks.

  The sound of gunpowder burning and exploding.

  The sound of metal popping out due to an explosion.

  The only problem is that what pops out isn't a bullet, but the barrel itself.

  A legendary general, a super butcher without equal in history, the "Ghost Rose" who bore the grudge of all living beings in the world, Sophia Liria, Marshal of the Spirit Kingdom, died on January 4th, DR1991, in the suburbs of New Sorbrey City, due to the poor quality of firearms produced by the New Sorbrey City Arsenal, which caused a barrel explosion. The circumstances of his death were so ridiculous that they rivaled those of General Sohn Norm, who died after falling under the wheels of his own carriage on the eve of the final battle.

  History loves to play cruel jokes, the way famous people from all walks of life die is often not commensurate with their identity. Only death itself is fair and consistent. The defense of New Masou City has come to an end.