The Undying Death Knight failed to achieve the ending of the Heroic Spirit

Looking at the knights on both sides of the table, each with a more solemn expression than the other, Menechel clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention to himself.

"The enemy's number will never be less than three thousand."

He delivers the bad news, and this time there isn't any good news.

"So, if we can hold out for ten days, we will be victorious."

Even Menechel himself did not believe the words "repel the enemy soldiers".

Delay, this is the bottom line of Menechel - the city of Billu is the last fortress leading to Camelot. He has sent people to deliver letters to the front line. As long as he can hold on for ten days and wait for the elite knights under Artoria to return to defend, then victory will still belong to him.

"On the other hand, I have sent Lord Vrig to Camelot City to ask for help. With the help of Camelot City, it is not impossible to hold out for ten days."

Just as Menechel was racking his brains to boost the morale of his knights, the door of the meeting room was pushed open and a knight ran in in panic.

The snow on his body was scattered on the ground bit by bit as he ran. The cold wind outside blew into the meeting room mixed with one or two loud shouts.

Perhaps they have discovered traces of the enemy outside the city.

Minachel, who was already irritable, immediately cast a dissatisfied glance at the intruding knight.

Now is not the time to lose your temper.

"Is the enemy attacking?" Menachel stood up from the main seat with patience, picked up his spear and walked out of the house: "Organize the defense, I will be there soon."

"Lord Menechel." When Menechel walked in front of the messenger knight, the messenger finally spoke after struggling for words. He tremblingly handed over the paper he had been holding in his hand: "This is the letter that the enemy just shot into the city."

Menechel frowned, spread out the damp letter paper and glanced at it quickly. Fortunately, this was not a letter he sent to Artoria, but a letter of persuasion for surrender.

Menechel tore the letter into pieces quickly and efficiently. The scattered scraps of paper floated to the ground and landed on the two of them.

Seeing this scene, the messenger knight lowered his head even more, not daring to look at Menechel at all.

"Next time you encounter something like this, just tear it up and don't give it to me."

From the letter he learned the name of the other commander, Ezequiel, a third-rate knight he had never heard of.

How dare he persuade others to surrender?

If it were a year ago, a scoundrel like him probably wouldn't even have the courage to stand in front of him.

……

Vrig had just arrived in Camelot at this time.

When he came to his hometown after a long absence, he had no time to express his feelings. Even he knew how tense the situation in the Stark region was.

But even in such a bad situation, there are still naughty kids who interfere with his important mission.

If Mordred had not been Menechel's disciple, Vrig was sure that he would have abandoned this guy.

He glared at Mordred who was pulling at his cloak, but found that the girl's face showed a rare look of fear.

"Mr. Fulige, what are you doing here?"

The sudden question made Voliger shudder. He immediately raised his head and after seeing the face of the person coming, he slowly put down the hand that was holding the hilt of the sword.

"Your Majesty Morgan."

He couldn't help but feel relieved. Even though he didn't meet Lord Merlin, at least he met a member of the royal family.

He bowed with some gratitude. He never thought that His Majesty Morgan, whom he had only met twice, would actually recognize him, a nobody. In contrast, he and Lord Menechel had been together for three years before the other party finally called him by the right name.

"Your Majesty Morgan, Lihe City was attacked, and Lord Menachere asked me to come to Camelot City for help."

As Volliger spoke, he took out the letter he had kept close to him, and after hesitating for a moment, he handed it to Morgan.

Although Menechel had repeatedly stressed that it must be handed over to Merlin, now that Merlin could not be found, it seemed okay to give it to Queen Morgan.

"This is a really big deal." Morgan's ladylike smile gradually faded. Her purple eyes looked at Vrigg, and a bright color flashed in her pupils: "I will be responsible for handing it over to Lord Merlin."

As he spoke, Morgan turned his gaze to the girl who was standing nervously and silently behind Volliger.

"By the way, please give me this child as well."

Volig didn't say anything, just nodded woodenly.

Morgan raised the corner of his mouth slightly, and an invisible force field rolled up Mordred's petite body and forcibly dragged the girl over.

"You can go back now, Lord Vrig."

I'll make up about three chapters today. I got drunk last night and just got up.

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 93: Stop Talking (224)

The enemy has maximized its advantage in numbers. The three shifts' attacks day and night are gradually consuming the energy of the defenders of Bilulu City. It is only a matter of time before the city is captured.

To make matters worse, on the third day of defending the city, the dispatched Knight Voliger returned to the city alone via a small path.

Leaning against the wall, Menechel tried hard to suppress the urge to cough, but his voice became hoarse uncontrollably: "What do people in Camelot say?"

Vrig lowered his head and remained silent for a moment.

Menechel's heart sank. In fact, he had already prepared himself mentally when he saw Vrige coming back alone.

Sure enough, Vrig replied tremblingly: "Lord Merlin is not in Camelot, and the other lords... refused to send troops to help on the grounds that Camelot's defenses were insufficient."

Teacher Merlin is not here, so to whom did Vriggle hand Mordred over? Such a simple question flashed through Menechel's mind. With a powerful enemy at hand, now was not the time to consider such questions.

This was the third day of the battle to defend the city. The number of defenders in Bilú City had been reduced by half. In order to resist the enemy's fierce attacks day and night, Menechel, the city defender, had to stay on the city wall for three full days.

Even though his physical strength far exceeded that of ordinary people, he still felt tired at this moment.

"I see."

Menechel closed his eyes. He no longer had the energy to be angry. The swelling feeling in his head made him want to fall asleep immediately.

The city of Bilú could no longer be defended. Menichel thought that he might really die here this time.

Menechel did not think that the few remaining and already quite exhausted soldiers in the city of Bilú could withstand the next round of attacks from enemies that outnumbered them several times.

Moreover, Camelot's refusal to provide support would be the final straw that would destroy the morale of the remaining soldiers.

Biluo City has completely become an isolated city in the wilderness.

"Thank you for your hard work. You first..."

Before he could finish his words, a knight guarding the city wall in the distance quickly approached this side.

Menechel stood up leaning on his spear, and Vollig, who was about to go back to rest, had to stay reluctantly.

"Lord Menechel, the enemy has temporarily suspended their siege and sent a messenger to request that the city gates be opened and to speak with you."

"How many people are there?" Menichel tried to keep his tone as calm as possible, but he couldn't hide the fatigue in his voice.

"one person."

Menachel was stunned. This man dared to go to the enemy camp alone. It seemed that he was not afraid of death.

"Let him in."

He knew without a doubt what the enemy's purpose in inviting him to talks was; it was simply to get him to surrender the city.

He didn't understand what was so special about himself that the enemy should care about him so much, but this seemed to be a perfect way to delay time.

But it was only a temporary measure after all. Menechel couldn't just talk to one person for a few days - not to mention whether the enemy would lose patience and choose to attack the city, his ambiguous attitude alone would shake the determination of his knights to defend the city.

……

"Long time no see, Sir Menachel. The last time we met, you were still full of vigor and vitality, but I never thought that when we meet again, you have already turned gray."

As soon as Chamogang followed the two knights into the meeting room, he greeted Menechel who was sitting in the main seat.

Menichel frowned, looking at the unfamiliar male face in front of him, and for a moment he couldn't remember who the person in front of him was.

"Sir Menechelle is now the first knight of Camelot, so it's natural that he doesn't remember me." Chamo smiled and said, "Chamo, I wonder if you still remember me."

"Chamo?"

Menechel frowned. He did have an impression of the name, but he only vaguely remembered that the other party was a knight under King Gwyn and the first person he met after leaving Avalon.

"You've changed a lot."

He had no interest in why Chamo had ended up here, and asked straight to the point: "So Ezequiel sent you to persuade me to surrender?"

"Sir Menechel, I am not here to persuade you to surrender." Chamo said, "The nobles of Camelot have already given up on Biloo. Sir Menechel, do you think it is meaningful to persist? You are recognized as the first knight in Britain. There is no need to sacrifice yourself for a bunch of termites."

"You can live for yourself. Lord Ezequiel said that you don't need to surrender. As long as you open the city gate and agree to let him pass through, he will share the credit with you once you conquer Camelot."

When Menechel heard Chamo mention that "Camelot City refused to provide support", his pupils shrank. He had just received this information and didn't even have the time to inform his subordinates. Why did Chamo know it so quickly?

The originally quiet meeting room suddenly exploded because of this news.

"Quiet!"

Menechel suddenly raised his voice, and the murderous aura he had acquired from years of fighting suppressed everyone's whispers.

He knocked on the handrail again and again, his expression uncertain. The only sound in the whole room was the "knock knock" sound.

"Knight Chamo." Menechel's tone was gloomy. He took off his head armor, revealing his short gray hair, but Chamo did not dare to look up and look at him at this time.

This long-lost feeling of oppression reminded him of his first meeting with Menachel.

"You are so bold to fabricate such a crude lie to shake the morale of our army." Menechel raised his lips and showed a malicious smile. The fierceness in his eyes almost overflowed, making people almost ignore his white hair and sickly face. The fierceness of the First Knight was unscrupulously filling the spacious meeting room.

Minashel approached Chamo step by step with a gun in hand, and the suffocating feeling of oppression that had not been felt for a long time appeared on him again.

There was a flash of cold light, and Chamo felt a chill on his head. A tuft of hair fell from his eyes. Something cold was pressing against his head, like a sword of Damocles hanging high in the air, making Chamo forget to breathe for a moment.

"As a token of our friendship, I will spare your life."

He couldn't kill Chamo immediately, otherwise it would only show his guilty conscience. He must not tell his subordinates that Camelot City refused to support him.

He retracted the spear that was against Chamo's head, and before the other party could breathe a sigh of relief, Menasheel flicked his wrist, and the tip of the spear drew a trace of blood on Chamo's face.

"King Arthur gave me clothes to wear and bread to eat. He allowed me to live like a normal person. Everything I have now was given to me by the king—" Ignoring Chamo who was covering his face and shouting silently, Minechel's voice became colder and colder: "You, go back and tell that third-rate guy Ezequiel what a nobody he is!"

The negotiations broke down faster than expected and didn't even last an hour.

When Chamo left in embarrassment, Minashel finally couldn't maintain his tough attitude anymore, closed his eyes and sat down on the main seat.

Raising his hand to stop the knights from supporting him, Menechel opened his bloodshot eyes.

"The enemy is about to attack the city again," he said, "before that, immediately control Knight Vrig."

There is a third

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 94: What a Complete Loser (324)

They finally managed to hold off the enemy's fierce attack once again, but disturbing rumors had already spread.

"Lord Menechel, will Camelot really send reinforcements?"

This was a question asked by a knight, who was just an ordinary knight and was not among those who had just participated in the meeting.

Upon hearing the other party's question, Menechel's face changed immediately, and without taking a rest, he immediately called the knight who was assigned to imprison Volliger, but learned a bad news from him - in that short period of time, Volliger did not choose to flee or even try to open the city gate, but spread the information everywhere like a complete madman.

After all, the other party was an old knight who had followed him for many years. Menechel never expected to be betrayed at this moment.

I didn't pay attention to it just now because I was dragged into a tough battle, but looking back now, the performance of my knights was indeed too negative.

"Lord Menechel, what should be done with Knight Vrigg?"

"Kill him and hang his head for public display." Menichel didn't even think about it. He had nothing good to say to the traitor.

Hearing this, the knight who was called over trembled, but retreated without saying anything.

Only after watching the other person leave did Menachel dare to close his eyes again.

He didn't dare fall asleep, for he knew that the next wave of enemy attack would not be far away. How long could he hold on to the city of Biloo?

Menechel estimated that if he defended the city wall without a break, he could hold out for three more days at most.

But even so, there is still a three-day gap.

A loud roar woke Menechel from his nap, and his sleepiness immediately disappeared. He jumped up from the ground almost instantly, picked up the spear with one hand, and his eyes were already sweeping towards the city gate.

Menechel could not be more clear about the roar that almost pierced his eardrums. It was the sound of the city gate being opened.

What he saw was his deputy and a knight standing beside the city gate. They swung their swords to cut the ropes that controlled the gate. As if they sensed someone's gaze, they raised their heads and met Menechel's gaze.