The Path to Lordship Begins in the North

The Lars Knights jumped out of the troop carriers from the rear compartments. By this time, the Avar army was already in formation, all on high alert.

The gray-robed man carefully cast protective magic around himself and the little princess, but he was still puzzled by the mountain of armor.

Is that an elf?

Yes, is it?

Even the gray-robed man himself began to doubt himself; if this was an elf, then the art style was far too abstract.

In the sky, Avar's dragon allies were entangled by the blue dragon. Although the blue dragon did not seem to be good at fighting, the dragons in the sky seemed to be wary of something and did not dare to attack with full force.

"Sir Lars of the North, this is a temporary port granted to us, Avar, by Lord Antipas the Demon King. You have no right to enter!"

Avar's officer pointed at the mountain of knights in front of the army and angrily rebuked them, but his trembling tone revealed his lack of confidence.

Wearing power armor, Myron glanced around, took the flag off the troop carrier, planted it in the ground, and said, "Not anymore."

"You are invading the territory of the demons and Avars, do you know that?"

The Avar officer spoke vehemently, but the mountain of knights seemed not to hear a word; if they weren't wearing helmets, they would probably be picking their ears.

This left the gray-robed man standing to the side dumbfounded. The Avar army was actually trying to reason with them? The Avar army, which would even rip an earthworm out of the ground and split it in two, was actually trying to reason with the other side?

"This place was originally part of the eastern territory of Cape; in fact, it was the demons who invaded our land from the very beginning."

Myron shrugged, while defiantly making an international friendliness gesture to the Avar officer.

Instantly, the Avar officer felt phantom pain starting from the twisted scar on his face.

He had fought these big knights before. The leader, Myron, was not only a high-ranking knight, but his armor was also incredibly powerful. With the help of that armor, the Avar officer's body and confidence were shattered, leaving him with an incurable scar.

The Avar officer was furious and took a step forward in anger, but at that moment, the Avar army also silently took a step back in perfect unison.

Clearly, this army harbored a deep-seated fear of these hulking men. Seeing their incompetent comrades behind them, Avar's officers silently retreated once more.

Although the armor of these Lars Knights looked terrifying, the grey-robed man did not have a real assessment of their combat strength, but felt that no matter what, the Avar army's reaction was too exaggerated.

After all, the gray-robed man could sense that apart from the leader, the knight Lars, the others were not high-level professionals. The Avar army had some professionals, muskets and cannons, and another high-level professional in command. They also had a huge numerical advantage. Why would they be so afraid?

The gray-robed man soon found out why.

Myron, the leader, drew his Melt-Slice Sword and said in a calm tone, "Fire."

The other Lars Knights drew their ray guns and began firing at the Avar soldiers.

The ray gun emitted a low hum in the air, followed by a blazing beam that struck the battlefield. The light sliced ​​through the air like a sharp blade, instantly piercing through the dense Avar army formation.

The armor of the Avar soldiers was melted directly. Some professionals raised shields, but the rays hit the shields and exploded. The powerful impact blew the professionals and the soldiers behind the shields away.

The soldiers picked up their muskets and began to fight back, but the steel bullets struck the armor of the Lars soldiers like raindrops, weak and ineffective. The Lars knights turned their heads and looked at the dense barrage of muskets. Although their helmets were expressionless, one could almost sense a sense of doubt in the soldiers' movements and expressions: "Have they already gotten in?"

Only the various spells of the Avar professionals can have any effect on these big guys.

Only then did the grey-robed figure realize that the armor of these Lars knights possessed incredibly luxurious enchantments. In Castile, such enchantments would be considered almost heirlooms of noble families. No, perhaps even more extravagant; this was practically legendary armor.

Several Avar professionals who had never fought the Lars Knights before recklessly rushed forward to engage them in combat. However, with the help of their power armor, the knights drew their Melt-Slice Swords and, with a single strike, although they did not directly cleave the professionals in two, the immense force slammed those overconfident professionals into the rocks, where they could not be pried off.

"Hmm...wouldn't a hammer be better for dealing with these hard, unyielding guys?"

The knight Lars looked at the Melt-Cut Sword in his hand and muttered to himself.

This is outrageous! It's absolutely outrageous! The gray-robed man seemed to be watching a battle that didn't belong to this world at all. The arrogant Avar army, equipped with the latest muskets, was being trampled on like toys by a dozen big guys.

Under the influence of the ray gun and the melting sword, the blood was evaporated before it could even spray. Severed limbs and various liquids flew around on the battlefield, causing Rosalind's gray robe to immediately cover her eyes.

But the terrifying screams still reached Rosalind's ears.

"Grand Master, did the elves win?"

Hearing those chilling wails, Rosalyn gripped the hem of her grey robe tightly. These elves were completely different from what Rosalyn had imagined.

"Of course..."

The grey-robed man fell silent. This was no longer a question of winning or losing; it was a one-sided massacre, just like what the Avar army had done to other nations' armies in a magic-free environment.

No, it's even more exaggerated than that.

The previously arrogant Avar officer was targeted by Myron in the chaos. With just a single impact from the power armor's propulsion and Myron's own strength, the Avar high-ranking knight officer was sent flying by an elbow strike.

Once the power armor was activated, the red light emanating from the helmet's visor was like a warning from hell, staring intently at the officer.

"What's wrong? Weren't you pretty good at fighting last time? Don't let me down!"

Myron shook his hand, looking at the high-ranking knight with some disappointment. Ever since he obtained this custom-made power armor, Myron had been looking for people to fight. This high-ranking knight from Avar had once provoked Myron on the central border and was left with a twisted scar by Myron's Melt-Cut Sword.

This time, Myron deliberately didn't use any weapons, wanting to fight this high-ranking knight with sheer strength, but the high-ranking knight kept running away and had no intention of fighting at all.

The Avar officer fell to the ground, his feet frantically kicking as he retreated. At that moment, he seemed less like a high-ranking knight and more like an ordinary soldier on the battlefield.

There's no way to win. There's absolutely no way to win. Myron, clad in massive power armor, is a monster whose strength and speed are beyond comprehension; he's a pure numerical monster.

Originally, a high-ranking Avar officer might have been able to put up a fight, but now, Myron has completely shattered his confidence and self-esteem.

"Don't kill me, don't kill me!"

The Avar officer who tried to escape was once again elbowed down by Myron and stomped on the ground.

The officer who was previously stepping on Rosalyn is now being stepped on by Myron.

A heavy sigh came from the helmet glowing red: "It seems that high-level professionals are still just human after all. Once they lose the will to resist, their combat power is just like that."

With these words, barely concealing his disappointment, Myron pulled out his ray gun and pulled the trigger at the officer's head.