After my rebirth, Miss Saint turned evil

Now, he could no longer deny what he saw.

The current formation of the Grand Templar Army is too unnatural. The army is like a living organism. Once one part collapses, the whole will be affected.

Therefore, it is impossible for a part of the body to fall apart while the whole body remains intact.

Moreover, even if that unnatural situation occurred according to natural trends, the cunning master and experienced general could not sit idly by.

Rather, the mere absence of old man Gerard was enough to make one understand the malicious intent of the drama unfolding before their eyes.

Just look at the feet of the commanders' mounts and the situation becomes clear.

Human feet can be quite dramatic, and because individual differences are so great, it's difficult to judge based on that.

But horses are much more honest than humans. If the person on their backs panics, or if the reins are held by someone who doesn't know how to ride, these alone can cause their feet to move around.

And what about the commanders on the front lines? Although it was a sudden retreat, no one's horse was shaking uncomfortably.

Perhaps because the chaos caused by Frodo's battlefield magic had disappeared, there was even a hidden sharpness in the movement of driving the horse.

Murphy, who was at the center of the front line, couldn't help but turn his gaze behind him.

It would be best to retreat, at least the soldiers' enthusiasm should be curbed, he thought, but he rejected the idea in an instant.

That won't work. Soldiers won't hesitate or think, they just move forward.

Moreover, no matter who it is, they are constantly making noises, so no matter how loudly one shouts here, the sound can only be heard by a few dozen people around.

Murphy felt as if someone was holding her neck, her lips and tongue became dry, and the moisture in her throat disappeared.

He understood in an instant that the ending, which he could not escape no matter how much he thought, was about to come.

The green military uniform wrinkled, Murphy gripped the sword tightly, couldn't help but sigh, and turned his gaze from behind to the front.

Although it's still far away, the enemy's base camp is already in sight. If we move at full speed, we should be able to reach it in one breath.

So, what should we do?

If you ask yourself, no matter how much you try to control it, the situation will still be bad.

The end of defeat and death is right in front of him, but he cannot stop, just like a sword slave forced to advance towards a raging beast.

If he got a little closer to the enemy camp, the ambush soldiers' spears would probably pierce his flanks from both sides.

Then, maybe I could die unexpectedly in a happy mood.

Dying in defeat in war is a very understandable way to die.

This is better than dying miserably of hunger in an alley and being laughed at by everyone.

Since we are going to die anyway, we still want to greet the final moment in a way that we can accept. Is this a luxury?

While thinking, the enemy soldiers could not be said to have started a counterattack, but only offered a slight resistance.

For a moment, the battlefield came to a standstill.

Taking advantage of that gap, Murphy closed her eyes.

It was only at this moment that he gave up thinking and just felt the iron smell of flesh and blood passing through his nostrils.

The dry wind from the battlefield slapped his cheeks.

——Yes, there are different ways to die. Humans must make their own choices.

It's really weird. The situation is getting worse and worse. There is no way to make it better. All I can do is struggle in an ugly way.

Despite this, I couldn't completely get rid of the urge to give up.

And every time the thought of giving up is about to be eliminated, that unpleasant voice will ring in my ears.

"Isn't it already good? Give up. You've done well. No need to work harder. No need to get hurt anymore."

Murphy could hear it, the voice of someone who had deceived Ella, the same voice she had heard in Belphein.

The sound, a mixture of unpleasantness and pain, seemed like a curse, echoing in Murphy's ears like an auditory hallucination.

"So, pray for salvation, and take my hand."

The sound that remained in my ears was so painful that it was unbearable.

But even if we suffer a terrible defeat, even if we endure mud and humiliation, even if we die a horrible death and our bones are turned to dust.

Until that last moment, how could I possibly hold your bastard hand and return to the days dominated by the word "give up"?

A tragic defeat, or even a tragic death, cannot be a reason to give up.

Murphy's lips twisted and words formed.

"Frodo. Later, once more, just once is enough. Could you please use magic?"

Go ahead and fabricate a battlefield, because only by going against and tearing apart the opponent's intentions can you take the battlefield into your own hands.

Chapter 12 Determination

——Frodo. Later, once more, just once is enough, could you please use your magic?

Hearing the deep voice, Frodo Volgograd's eyelashes trembled subconsciously, and she spoke out of her mind reflexively.

It can't be done. Impossible. It's too messed up.

Frodo's heart was beating rapidly and expressing pain. No, it was more than that. Her entire internal organs seemed to be tightly strangled and kept wailing. If she relaxed a little, painful groans would burst out.

Frodo had a clear intuition about manipulating magic power. If she didn't rest now and used battlefield magic again, then not only her internal organs and body, but also her soul would be left with indelible flaws.

His soul was no longer flawless, having been left with an irreparable scar during his time at Belphein.

If I get hurt again now, it would be like hitting the wound with a hammer.

There is no need to even think about what the result will be, it will only be destruction.

Frodo sighed, blinked, opened her mouth, and spoke in as light a tone as possible without letting out a groan of pain.

"Okay, of course, go all out, right?"

She said trying to smile.

Murphy, facing forward, was he aware of his own voice? Was there something wrong with it? Now, Frodo felt only this unease.

In his current state, using battlefield magic would inevitably lead to death, and his soul would of course be shattered.

The fundamental fear of death sealed Frodo's throat and almost suffocated her.

After all, once the soul is broken, it will lose its existence in this world.

The fear of the fundamental disappearance of existence, which was completely different from natural death, caused Frodo's fingers to tremble, her magic power to become disordered, and she was even on the verge of tears if she was not careful.

Even so, I still think it doesn't matter. A self-deprecating smile appeared on Frodo's face for a moment.

Just as I was scolded in the past when I was at home in Volgograd, there might really be something strange about me.

Life is precious. It should be much more important than money, reputation, dignity, love, and reserve combined.

But now, I'm about to throw it away, for him.

From an outsider's perspective, this would certainly appear to be a twisted action, perhaps mocked as a foolish choice.

I also feel that this kind of emotion is strange, but even so, I still make such a stupid decision.

——It’s very simple, he, Murphy, is his own dream.

Although he is a talentless lead body like himself, he shines with the brilliance of gold.

I reached out to myself who had nothing, and then relied on myself.

It is these, these little things that seem insignificant to others, how many times have they burned my heart?

Others won't know, how can I let them know? Only this feeling is mine, and even if I can't catch up with him in my whole life, I will never give up this feeling and this thought.

And if I die here, as the cornerstone of his victory, Murphy will remember me no matter what excuse he finds, right?

If I could add a scar to his life, it would be a very good choice.

Was she driven by the frenzy of the battlefield or the passion of love? It is unknown, but the decision was undoubtedly made by Frodo Volgograd from the bottom of her heart.

Tears were about to come out of my pupils, and I didn't know what kind of emotion that meant.

At this time, words came out of Murphy's lips again.

"No need. Then, cast some magic to deal with the arrows, and then go to support the main camp. I'll leave the horses to you."

Hearing that, Frodo's mouth twisted subconsciously and her brows furrowed—and it wasn't because of the pain in her body.

She opened her lips naturally.

"Absolutely not. Do you think I'm a useful familiar?"

Frodo understood, and the voice that came out of her lips became harsh and terrifying.

That was because he felt disgusted when Murphy's hand simply wiped out the determination he had made in his heart.

At the same time, because he noticed his bad habits, they were revealed again.

Absolutely, he was going to do something dangerous.

In front of Frodo, Murphy's back was shaking slightly.

"Nothing. We're about to make the final assault on the enemy's main camp. We can't let you sit back at this time. It's too dangerous. Besides, you've reached your limit, haven't you, Frodo?"

When Murphy continued, "I can tell from your voice," Frodo's face froze.

Did she say out loud that her body was nearing its limit? Thinking of this, Frodo subconsciously pursed her lips.

And, indeed, if I followed him, it would bring him danger. I, who could no longer use battlefield magic, would only become a burden to him if I sat behind the horse. This was a fact that could not be refuted.

This is very understandable, however.

"But, in that case, can't you just go there on horseback?"

"Why did you leave the horse to me? You must be going on something dangerous, so you kept me away." Frodo said with concern in her voice.

"If we try to reach the enemy main camp, a commander on horseback will be targeted first. The enemy is also very desperate. The survival rate is higher on foot, and I'm not seeking death."

With that, Murphy jumped off the horse.

Frodo involuntarily stretched out her fingers to grab his back, but now she no longer had the strength to do so.

No, he must not be allowed to go here. When Murphy said something like this, it was definitely the time when he was about to do something bad.

Frodo's soul told her that she should stop him, and she instinctively stretched out her fingers and followed his back.

"—Don't worry... If you're still worried, just watch from here, Frodo. After all, a hero's presence often needs someone to witness it before it's spread."

Grabbing the hand that was extended to him, Murphy said with a messy look on his face.

Just like that, I lost my voice, felt like my chest was tightening, my heart beat faster, and my cheeks were hot.

I understood what Murphy meant by that, because his hand didn't tremble at all when he touched his fingers.

It's obviously not possible. I know clearly that I will regret it. I will definitely regret accepting his words here.

If it was Filia, she would have refused immediately; if it was Mattia, she would have issued an order.

But, Frodo's black pupils became moist and she said.

"Mercy, it doesn't matter if you run away. It doesn't matter if you don't become a hero. Even if you have nothing to carry, I will still be with you."

Those words were truly spoken softly in a voice that only Murphy could hear.

For a moment, Murphy's eyes widened and his lips moved slightly in response.

"Thank you, that's the best thing to say, Frodo. It's nothing, I'll be back in no time, it'll be a piece of cake."

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8 chapters updated today, totaling 2 words, please vote for me.

The plot will reach a climax tomorrow, but because the manuscripts have not been fully compiled, the update for tomorrow morning will be released in the afternoon or evening so that everyone can enjoy it all at once.

Chapter 13 The Boy's Aspirations and the Last Order

In the center of the battlefield, on the front line.

The dark red dusk scorched their cheeks as the Heraldic soldiers took another step forward.

The enemy's front line was collapsing at his own pace, and this undoubted fact gave him a sense of satisfaction that would have been impossible otherwise.

That is something you can never experience in your daily life, and it is enough to melt the joy in your heart.

It is because the crisis of death accompanies life, and because the fatal arrows constantly pass by the cheeks, that we can experience this supreme pleasure.