Lord: I can see loyalty.

"Russell Burke...?" Gregor murmured, repeating the word over and over, his gaze fixed cautiously on Russell before finally uttering the words.

"The Hakuba family, Captain Gregor Thors!"

As he spoke, he charged forward, his longsword flashing across his hand!

In Russell's eyes, he couldn't even see the sword blade in front of him. This was Gregor's swordsmanship, the White Horse Swordsmanship - Galloping!

Although Gregor was no longer on horseback, his imposing presence pressed down on Russell like a giant white horse!

The sword's edge, which had been steady at the front, began to twist as Gregor swayed his forearm, making it impossible for Russell to predict where the next strike would land and to prepare a defense.

Damn!

Russell understood that this was the opponent's killing move! This Gregor clearly did not intend to waste too much time on him, but wanted to defeat his enemy in one fell swoop with this uncounterable move.

To counter this move, unless you are faster and have better observation skills than your opponent, you can only wait for the opponent to thrust at you before making a response.

But Russell, as a high-ranking knight in the art of the Serpent Eagle sword, was naturally not going to sit idly by and wait for his doom.

He quickly swung his armed sword, his arm muscles bulging instantly, a powerful force surging up and then flowing into the hilt as he swung it!

"call!!!"

Russell slammed his sword toward the ground, but it didn't fall. Instead, he stopped at the last moment, stirring up the sand and dust of the battlefield with the force of the sword's gust of wind.

Suddenly, the two were surrounded by yellow sand. The other person was obviously stunned for a moment. His vision was instantly blocked, which made him a little flustered.

You should know that my move, "White Horse Galloping," is a unique move that abandons defense and instead uses speed and power to defeat the enemy in one strike.

But if he were to be ambushed by the enemy at this time, he would be powerless to fight back.

Therefore, between life and killing the enemy, Gregor chose the former without hesitation.

After all, a knight should also be grateful for the blessings of the god of life; foolishly abandoning defense and throwing away one's life is not the style of a knight.

Thinking this, Gregor quickly changed his posture, forcibly stopped his steps, and at the same time assumed a defensive stance.

This move is the signature move of the Golden Saddle Horse family.

By using sword parrying and the defensive and core control provided by the stance, one can withstand the enemy's attack and then unleash a counterattack that is impossible to dodge or catch.

This tactic was further developed and popularized by the Jinshan family, another branch of the Jinshan family, with the Jinshan Knights being one of the representatives.

Although the Golden Mountain Knight had died in the duel before the Knights' Festival, at the hands of a wandering knight...

But Gregor scoffed, for his White Horse Sword Technique not only incorporated his family's Golden Horse Sword Technique but also the insights of his patriarch, the great knight Edmund.

It's far superior to any other simple knightly swordsmanship!

The next moment, just as Gregor had predicted, Russell's figure, which had been right in front of him, had disappeared, and then a strong gust of wind came from his side!

"I've seen through you! Fool!" A fierce glint flashed in Gregor's eyes as he turned the blade of his sword toward the enemy beside him.

Russell's figure had already broken through the sandstorm, his face like a demon emerging from the sand, as he gripped his armored sword and slashed down!

Gregor was overjoyed. The enemy's actions were exactly as he had predicted. If he could simply use his swordsmanship to parry the attack, the enemy would have no chance of dodging the subsequent counterattack.

Just as Russell's sword fell, Gregor heard a sound that shouldn't have been there.

It wasn't the crisp sound of metal clashing, but rather a duller, sharper sound, like a hammer smashing a clay pot.

His sword broke!

The longsword that had been with him for over a decade broke off cleanly three inches below the hilt, the upper half of the blade and tip spinning and flying into the air, drawing a bright arc in the twilight.

Gregor felt a numbness in his hand, and his palm was so shaken that he lost all feeling in it. The hilt of the broken sword slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a clatter.

He looked down at his empty hands, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"How...how is this possible..."

His White Horse Swordsmanship combines the essence of the Golden Horse Swordsmanship with the insights of the family patriarch Edmund, possessing both defensive and offensive capabilities as well as the ability to achieve victory through surprise.

He calculated Russell's attack direction, the angle of his block, and the timing of his counterattack...

But he hadn't anticipated that Russell's power would be this great!

That kind of power is not something a high-level knight's swordsmanship should possess, or even something an ordinary knight should possess.

Gregor had only ever heard of one sword technique that could enhance power in this way: the Griffin Sword Technique of the Griffin Clan!

But how could the enemy, who are from the Southern Territory, have learned the Griffin Sword Technique?

"Wait, could it be...?"

"You..." Gregor raised his head, looking at Russell bursting out from the sandstorm, his lips trembling, as if he understood something.

That's right, only the Serpent Sword Technique remains!

But Russell didn't give him a chance.

The broken sword fragments were still spinning in the air when Russell's longsword slashed down, the blade cutting into Gregor's left shoulder, slicing diagonally through his breastplate, and striking straight down to his right rib.

That's right, only the Serpent Sword Technique remains!

But Russell didn't give him a chance.

The broken sword fragments were still spinning in the air when Russell's longsword slashed down, the blade cutting into Gregor's left shoulder, slicing diagonally through his breastplate, and striking straight down to his right rib.

Blood gushed out, splattering all over Russell's face.

Gregor's eyes widened, his mouth opened but no sound came out, his body swayed and then he crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The surrounding Northern knights were stunned.

They stared at Gregor's corpse, at the powerful knight covered in blood, their eyes filled with terror.

"The battalion commander is dead!"

"Lord Gregor!"

"Retreat! Retreat now!"

Some shouted for a retreat, some turned and ran, and some were still putting up a stubborn resistance, but most of the knights had lost their will to fight.

Their commander is dead, their formation has been broken, and now they are trapped in this strange little town, surrounded by enemies on all sides!

"Don't let them get away!" Russell wiped the blood from his face, raised his longsword high, and commanded, "Azure Peak Knights, give chase!"

"kill!"

The knights roared in unison and spurred their horses toward the fleeing northern knights.

The silver-white knight's armor, gleaming in the twilight, resembled streaks of cold light, leaving trails of blood mist in its wake.

The Grey Hyena mercenaries also attacked from the rear or sides, blocking the Northern Knights' retreat.

Those militiamen who had been forcibly conscripted had long lost the will to fight, and they threw down their weapons and knelt down to surrender.

"Don't kill me! I surrender!"

"Me too! Me too!"

Dozens of farmers knelt on the ground, trembling, not daring to lift their heads.

The mercenaries didn't make things difficult for them; they simply herded them aside and confiscated their weapons.

The number of Northern knights who were still putting up a fight was dwindling. Some were cut down, some were captured, and some escaped the city in the chaos, but their numbers were few.

The battle lasted less than half an hour.

As the last rays of the setting sun sank into the sea, the battle for Blackwater City finally came to an end.

On the open ground in front of the city gate, the corpses of Northern Knights lay scattered about, their blood staining the stone slabs and filling the air with a strong stench of blood.

The Grey Hyena mercenaries were cleaning up the battlefield, carrying the wounded aside and dragging the corpses outside the city.

The militiamen slumped against the city wall, panting heavily, their faces etched with exhaustion.

Glenn stood by the city gate, leaning on his greatsword, covered in blood. His leather armor had several cuts, the deepest one on his left arm, revealing the lacerated skin underneath.

But he didn't fall down, and he didn't even flinch.

"Captain Glenn." Russell rode up, dismounted, and asked, "How are your injuries?"

"It's just a superficial injury," Glenn's voice remained calm. "What about the civilians in the city?"

"Everyone is hiding inside; no one is injured."

Glenn nodded and said nothing more.

Just then, the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from outside the city gate.

A troop of cavalry galloped from the southern road, led by a young man dressed in a dark gray suit, with a magic-feathered sword and shield hanging at his horse's waist. He stood tall and had a calm gaze.

"Your Excellency!" Russell knelt on one knee, and the knights and militiamen around him followed suit.

Violet reined in his horse, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield, lingering for a moment on the corpses of the Northern knights, before settling on Russell and Glenn.

"Rise, everyone." He dismounted. "What are the casualties?"

Russell stood up and quickly reported: "My Lord, in this battle, fifty-three Northern Knights were killed, twenty-one were captured, and fewer than thirty escaped."

"Of the farmers who were forcibly conscripted, more than two hundred surrendered, and the rest ran away. Our side..." He paused, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes, "...only a few of our men were lightly wounded, and one was seriously wounded."

"Most of those injured were militia members who had been stalling for time while waiting for reinforcements."

Vio nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips.

The first battle between the South and the North was won by the South.

They won!

"Your Excellency, this is all thanks to your plan."

Russell's voice was full of admiration, "You deliberately made Blackwater look like an isolated city to lower their guard. They thought there were only a few hundred militiamen and mercenaries here, but little did they know that we were already waiting for them."

"It's not entirely my doing," Vio shook his head. "It's also thanks to your execution. Without your hard work and dedication, even the most ingenious plan would have been in vain."

He walked up to Glenn and glanced at the wound on his left arm. "It's not serious, is it, Glenn?"

"It's not heavy." Glenn shook his head. "Your Excellency, what's the next step?"

Vio turned around and looked north.

There, the main camp of the Northern Allied Knights was still brightly lit, but they couldn't be unaware of what had happened in Blackwater.

Of the hundred elite knights, most were killed, and fewer than thirty escaped. This was just the appetizer.

He turned around and walked into the city.

"Next? Pass down the order to clean up the battlefield and reinforce the city's defenses. Patrol again tonight, and new recruits will come to patrol in shifts tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir!"

News of the initial victory spread like wildfire throughout the southern and western territories.

A resounding victory in the first battle in the Southern Territory!

In the streets and alleys of Bordeaux, the people were talking about it.

"Have you heard? Those families from the North sent a hundred elite knights to attack Blackwater City, and we utterly thrashed them!"

"Where is Blackwater? A city in the Western Frontier?"

"It's in the North! A northern city under the Earl's control."

"One hundred? More than that, I heard there are two or three hundred!"

"Who cares how many, we won anyway!"

Similar conversations can be seen everywhere in taverns, markets, and docks.

The people's faces no longer showed the worry and fear they had felt upon hearing about the war with the North; instead, they were filled with confidence.

As night fell, Vio stood on the walls of Blackwater, gazing at the brightly lit camp to the north. Jimmy and Russell stood behind him, silent.