Kryptonians: Man of Steel

Chapter 1323: The Free Treasure
The center of the battlefield seemed to have been baptized by a heavenly calamity and had long lost its original appearance.

The originally vast sea of ​​sand was now wantonly overturned by the boiling magic power, as if it had been bombarded by countless meteorites falling from the sky, leaving behind a series of shocking potholes and cracks.

Sand and gravel were flying, covering the sky and the sun. The air was filled with thick smoke and the pungent smell of scorched earth, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Amid the devastation, not a blade of grass grows, and all traces of life are almost completely wiped out, leaving only endless desolation and dead silence.

Under these continuous blows, the offensive of the king's army came to a standstill, as if it was strangled by an invisible hand.

Although they were numerous and densely packed like a surging tide, they could only fall one by one like cut ears of wheat under the suppression of Luther's firepower that was like a flexible artillery, and could not form an effective counterattack.

Luther stood on a high place on the battlefield, his figure looking particularly tall and lonely in the afterglow of the setting sun.

His royal treasure is like an endless treasure house, constantly spewing out dazzling treasures.

These treasures drew brilliant tracks in the air and fell like a meteor shower, and each strike contained enough power to destroy everything.

In the face of Luther's fierce firepower, tens of thousands of the king's troops were like reefs hit by huge waves. They kept retreating and had no ability to fight back.

Under the bombardment of the treasure, their armor was as fragile as paper and was torn apart in an instant, with blood splattering everywhere.

Their bodies were pierced by the treasure like dried straw in the wind, and were instantly pierced, and the fire of life was extinguished.

If they were not careful, they would be devoured by the fierce firepower and turned into nothingness.

A Heroic Spirit without a Noble Phantasm can only be considered as a strong human being on this battlefield.

Although they are brave and fearless and have experienced many battles, they seem to be powerless when facing enemies with powerful treasures.

Their weapons were as fragile as toys in front of the treasure, and could not cause any effective damage to the enemy. Their bodies were like fragile porcelain, shattered in an instant under the bombardment of the treasure.

The advantage of the king's army lies in its huge numbers, which surge like a tide, as if to drown everything.

But in this endless battle, their numbers are rapidly decreasing.

Every battle was accompanied by the death of countless heroes. Their life flames gradually dimmed under the bombardment of the treasures, like the flame of a candle being extinguished.

Even so, they still did not give up resistance.

There is still a determination in their eyes, and their bodies are still standing on the battlefield, fighting to the end for survival.

Their courage and tenacity are awe-inspiring.

However, Luther just kept firing the treasures from the King's Treasure over and over again, like a tireless machine.

If it were the Hero King Gilgamesh, he probably wouldn't do this.

Because the King's Army is large in numbers, the frequency and efficiency of the King's Treasure's launch may not be able to keep up with the enemy's attack speed in Gilgamesh's hands.

But Luther did not have this worry.

The frequency of his King's Treasure is much faster than Gilgamesh's, almost to an alarming degree.

In the blink of an eye, Luther seemed to transform into a violent storm on the battlefield, and a series of treasures poured down like a dense meteor shower, covering the sky and the sun.

Each of these treasures contained destructive power. They drew extremely gorgeous tracks in the air, like the scythe of the god of death, ruthlessly reaping the lives of those brave but helpless heroic soldiers.

These treasures whizzed through the air with destructive power. Once they hit the target, they were unstoppable like a bamboo breaking through.

They easily pierced through the bodies of several heroic soldiers, leaving shocking bloodstains and broken armor fragments scattered all over the ground. Even though these soldiers were brave and fearless, they could not resist the terrifying power of the King's Treasure.

Under the bombardment of the treasures, their bodies drifted helplessly like fallen leaves swept by a violent storm and eventually turned into dust.

Luther stood high above the battlefield, controlling these treasures like a ruthless god of war, repeating the cycle of massacre.

Under the suppression of his firepower, the offensive of the king's army was like being blocked by an invisible barrier and could not advance at all.

Although they were numerous, they could only retreat helplessly under the bombardment of Luther's treasure that was like a storm.

Rider stood in a corner of the battlefield, watching the scene with deep eyes.

His heart was filled with helplessness and regret. Those brave warriors were once his pride, but now, they were like candles in the wind, which could be extinguished at any time.

He waved his hand to disperse those heroic soldiers who could no longer fight. Before they disappeared, their figures seemed to still be expressing their unwillingness and regret.

Rider's eyes revealed a deep sense of self-blame. He secretly hated himself for not being able to help these brave warriors solidify their Noble Phantasms.

If their Noble Phantasm could have been solidified, then perhaps they would not have suffered such heavy losses in such an unwilling defeat.

Victory in this battle was getting further and further away from them.

Waver stood beside Rider, his face full of worry and fear.

As he looked at the heroic soldiers who continued to fall, an indescribable sorrow surged in his heart.

He began to think about retreating, thinking that if he continued fighting, more soldiers would die in vain.

So he proposed to Rider to evacuate the battlefield, but Rider firmly refused.

"Why? If you go up now, you'll just die!"

Waver tightly grasped Rider's cloak, his voice filled with anxiety and confusion.

He couldn't understand why Rider was so determined to continue fighting.

Rider turned around and looked at Waver with a determined gaze.

He glanced at the surrounding sea of ​​sand, his eyes gleaming with an unyielding light.

He said: "Glory is far away, and we have to challenge it because it is out of reach. I, Iskandar, as the King of Conquerors, how can I give up so easily?"

His voice was full of determination and pride, as if he was declaring his resolve to Weber.

After hearing this, Weber became even more nervous and uneasy. He continued to persuade her, "You will die... If you do this, you will only sacrifice yourself in vain."

There was a slight tremor in his voice, and it was obvious that he could not accept this cruel reality.

However, Rider laughed heartily.

He patted Waver on the shoulder and said, "Hahaha, if you fear death, wouldn't that be a betrayal of your subjects' trust? My Master, you don't want to see the King of Conquerors like this, do you?"

His laughter was full of heroism and determination, as if telling Weber that he was ready to face death.

(End of this chapter)