Lord: I can see loyalty.

Port of Soldato, at the dock.

The southern warships, painted black, resembled giant black beasts, and were docking one after another.

The wooden planks laid on the stone dock produced a series of dull, clanging sounds.

Fully armed knights trotted out, shields raised and longswords drawn, quickly forming a formation at the edge of the dock.

"Form ranks! Advance with the shield wall!"

Ansque's voice rang out from the front of the column.

As the deputy commander, he took the lead, standing at the very front of the formation, his sharp gaze sweeping over the trembling ordinary pirates on the dock.

As before, these ordinary pirates were indeed no match for them.

Faced with the neat shield wall and chilling spears erected by the Southern Knights, they didn't even put up a decent resistance before retreating one after another.

A few brave souls tried to step forward, but the knights cut them down in a few moves, severing their limbs. The rest were routed and scattered in all directions.

"Pursue them! Don't let them rest!"

The militia captains shouted and led the subsequent landing militiamen to begin clearing out the entire dock area.

Screams, pleas for mercy, and the sounds of flesh being cut echoed across the battlefield, but the battle was one-sided.

however.

"Bang!"

An iron arrow shot from the direction of the fortress and landed precisely at the feet of a militiaman who was charging at the front, penetrating three inches into the stone and causing the shaft to vibrate.

The militiaman broke out in a cold sweat and quickly retreated.

Ansquie frowned and looked up.

The gates of the stone fortress slowly opened, and a troop of soldiers poured out in orderly fashion.

The soldiers numbered around one hundred, their steps perfectly synchronized, each one firm and powerful.

What is most striking is their equipment: each person wears a distinctive helmet with glasses, revealing only their eyes, mouth, and nose, and their gaze is as cold as iron.

They wore fine chainmail, covered by dark battle robes, and held uniformly styled long-handled battle axes or longswords, the sharp blades gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

"Just as the Earl said, this guy still has a trump card..." Ansquie narrowed his eyes.

"Hmm, it's like the style of the Northern Continent," an older knight beside him murmured. "That armor and weapon are standard equipment for warriors of the Northern Continent..."

"Derek, that pirate captain, really did have a trick up his sleeve."

The group of helmeted warriors lined up at the end of the dock, slamming their axe handles on the ground and shouting in unison, their momentum perfectly unified.

"Prepare to charge!"

As a leader-like warrior waved his hand and gave the order, the hundred-man warrior regiment marched in unison toward the Southern Knights' line.

"Knights, prepare the shield wall!" Ansquie shouted sternly.

The two torrents of steel collided with a deafening roar.

"clang!"

The deafening clang of metal clashing echoed repeatedly, sparks flying everywhere.

The knights' great shields clashed fiercely with the warriors' battle axes, each exchange carrying an astonishing momentum!

Ansquie, at the forefront, forced back a bespectacled warrior with a single sword strike, but was secretly astonished.

These people are far more powerful than ordinary pirates.

They are not only well-equipped, but more importantly, highly trained.

Their movements were perfectly coordinated, with three people forming a group and switching between offense and defense with fluid ease.

Moreover, the battle axe was powerful and heavy, its strikes accompanied by a whistling sound, each aimed straight for vital points. (Latest plot: Click to follow updates.) Its strength was not much weaker than that of the knights who had mastered the basics of the Serpent Eagle Sword Technique.

Although the knights were equally elite, they found it difficult to gain the upper hand in this head-on confrontation.

"Stay calm! Don't rush in!"

Ansque shouted commands while observing the opponent's formation.

These helmeted warriors were clearly highly trained; in such group battles, they were arguably even more difficult to deal with than the Northern Continent warriors under Sea Bear Arnold, who relied solely on brute force.

They were not in a hurry to win, but instead took a steady and methodical approach, gradually shrinking the Southern Knights' space for maneuver.

They were elite warriors trained by Derek through his connections in the Northern Continent, and their equipment was also provided by the Northern Continent.

Strictly speaking, they can no longer be called pirates, but rather the true Northern Continent Warband.

What's even more challenging is the terrain of the fortress.

The dock was narrow and surrounded by seawater on both sides, preventing the knights from launching a large-scale encirclement.

The helmeted warriors, relying on the fortress for cover, advanced and retreated strategically, fighting with great ease.

The two sides fought fiercely for about fifteen minutes, both suffering injuries, but none were serious.

Several knights were struck in the shield by the battle axe, their arms went numb and they retreated, only to be replaced. Several spectacled warriors were also stabbed, but they still gritted their teeth and fought to the death.

"stop!"

The leader of the helmeted warriors suddenly raised his hand, and the ranks instantly stopped, retreated, and regrouped at the end of the dock.

Ansquey then ordered his troops to retreat, and the two sides faced each other at a distance of several dozen paces.

He squinted, scanning the enemy's formation, while secretly pondering.

But I never saw it.

"Count of the Southern Border... do you look down on me that much?" Derek looked at the stalemate between the knights and the warriors, feeling somewhat uneasy.

The Southern Earl sent his knights forward first, but he and the elite troops he had seen before were nowhere to be seen.

Was it a separate arrangement, or was it done intentionally?

He subconsciously looked towards the distant sea, and suddenly his pupils contracted.

On the sea, several familiar warships are cutting through the waves.

On the prow of the largest ship stood a tall and imposing figure.

That was Count Vio.

Behind him, Jimmy, Gina, Xavier, and others stood in a line, their armor gleaming in the sunlight.

"It's the Earl!"

The knights noticed the ship and shouted excitedly, and Ansquie's lips curled up slightly.

Derek's expression grew increasingly grim, as if he had guessed something.

The count let them come first only to test his hand; now that his hand has been revealed, it's time for the real deal to make his appearance.

The warship slowly approached the shore, and under the protection of the knights, Vio was the first to jump off the ship.

His gaze swept across the battlefield, lingering for a moment on the group of helmeted warriors, before turning to the stone fortress in the distance.

"Ansquie, thank you for your hard work."

"It's not a problem, Your Excellency." Ansquie shook his head. "However, you're right, these people are indeed difficult to deal with, and we're currently at a stalemate."

Vio nodded, his gaze fixed on the top of the stone fortress, in Derek's direction.

The two locked eyes in that spot.

Instantly, Derek's face contorted with rage, as if he wanted to tear Vio apart with his own hands.

Vio simply responded with a smile.

Next, it's Vio and his group's turn to join the battle.

The next chapter is even more exciting: Chapter 158 Elite Pirate Corps, we look forward to your visit.