Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

But he had no choice but to continue risking his life against Abad.

The two fought for a while longer.

Abaddon's body was almost completely mangled, his armor riddled with holes.

Even a large chunk of his neck was cut off.

Right now, they are relying entirely on the vitality of a first-tier knight to tough it out.

Herman the Knight on the other side was only slightly better off than Abaddon.

He had taken a hard hit to the chest with a spiked club, breaking countless bones and coughing up fragments of his internal organs along with his blood.

Herman didn't understand.

Why would you risk your life against that bald guy?

We are all official knights now, and our lives are no longer as worthless as they were during the squire stage.

Why do we have to fight to the death?

Even if you surrender, I won't kill you!

It's no use saying all this now; it seems I survived this life-or-death struggle to the end.

Just go die...

Then he would draw his sword to deliver the final blow to Aiba.

Aiba was already too injured to resist.

but.

He then tapped the ram's belly with his heel.

Then the Tier 1 War Ram unleashed its ultimate instantaneous speed, escaping the combat zone.

Hermann was left shouting in frustration behind:

Do not! ! !

Leave him with me...

Herman would never allow that bastard to escape when he was about to be finished.

So what does it matter that he was forced to risk his life today?

Unfortunately, his soldiers were already at a disadvantage.

The knights' squires were held back tightly, and Abaddon was taken back to the camp by the war ram in less than a minute.

He could only watch helplessly.

Finally, he let out a furious roar of resentment towards the sky:

"Aaaaaah!"

I * you ****

......

Allied camp

As soon as Abaddon returned, Ron personally took him away.

Inside a tent, Ron personally fed him a potion mixed with the original liquid.

After drinking a potion, Abaddon's pale face regained some color.

Ron continued to feed him, one bottle, two bottles, and the quality improved as Abaddon recovered.

Finally, he was completely out of danger.

However, the flesh that was cut off his neck will grow back quite a bit in the short term.

Ron left him about ten bottles of healing medicine and told him to rest and recover on his own.

The next day, Abad was still half-crippled.

It wasn't until the third day that he recovered most of his fighting strength.

Wrapped up like a mummy, he stepped forward and challenged them again.

Herman shouted curses at the camp:

"That shameless villain, that heartless maggot."

"They have no sportsmanship and are bullying an old man like me."

Herman had long noticed that the bald man's physique was extraordinary; not only was his strength astonishing, but his recovery ability was also exceptionally good.

He felt that the other party was using a time-wasting tactic against him.

He wasn't fooled and sent several high-ranking knights to hold off the enemy.

His injury hadn't fully healed, and he didn't want to take any risks.

But soon his subordinates reported that they couldn't hold out any longer.

Several high-ranking retainers were hard-won, but they were still no match for Abaddon.

Or rather, it wasn't enough to compete with that sheep.

The bald man didn't even have to lift a finger; his first-tier war ram was enough to hold back several high-ranking followers.

Abadon was standing to the side, occasionally tapping a black stick.

Soon the entourage could no longer hold out and came to ask for help.

But Hermann had no one else to send, so he had to grit his teeth and take on the role himself.

Ron had been waiting for this opportunity.

He has been preparing to disguise himself as a soldier in the vicinity for the past two days.

I was waiting for the right opportunity to give Herman a big surprise, but I didn't expect the opportunity to come so soon.

He wore tattered leather armor, held an inconspicuous longsword, and pulled his helmet down low. He blended in with the other soldiers, and no one would give him a second glance.

Hermann finally came out.

His fight with Abaddon was a direct head-on clash, without any probing.

However, the intensity has decreased significantly compared to before.

Neither of them has recovered to normal, and Herman's condition is even worse than Ebadan's.

Just as he was wondering...

A soldier suddenly appeared from the flank.

The "soldier's" armor was askew, his helmet covered most of his face, and he stumbled and staggered as he charged forward, like a fleeing soldier who had been terrified.

Herman was not careless and prepared to finish him off easily.

The sword flashed, but it didn't slit the soldier's throat as expected.

Hermann knew something was wrong and hurriedly activated all his fighting spirit, but it was too late.

Suddenly, a fierce attack erupted from that soldier.

The longsword slashed upwards, aiming for his ribs.

Hermann's pupils contracted sharply; it was yet another official knight.

"Who are you--"

He hadn't finished speaking.

The sword, combined with his fighting spirit, sliced ​​through his armor and struck his side, causing blood to gush from the gash.

Herman roared and swung his sword back to slash at the attacker's head.

The man dodged to the side, and as he drew his longsword, he flicked it upwards, slicing off half of the man's ear.

"Abbadon!" the man called out.

"They're here!"

The bald man charged in from the front riding his war ram, his spiked club aimed at Herman's head.

Hermann raised his sword to parry.

The spiked club struck the sword, breaking it in two. The club head smashed into his chest, the broken ribs piercing his lungs, and blood gushed from the corner of his mouth.

Herman was severely injured, but he still had not lost his fighting ability.

After taking several heavy blows, he finally found an opening and gained a brief respite.

Ron and Abaddon joined forces to shield him and move him to the center.

"Who are you?" Herman asked, somewhat unwillingly.

"Ron Broccoli, don't you know him?" Ron said jokingly.

Hermann's face darkened immediately; they did indeed know that a formal knight lord had appeared in the west.

They knew he had joined the coalition, but no one had ever seen what he looked like.

He thought it was Abaddon!

"Alright, stop stalling. You're dead today, I told you."

After Ron finished speaking, he continued his attack on him.

Herman knew things were going badly, and he didn't want to fight Ron anymore.

He just wanted to find a chance to escape, but he was too badly injured, and there was a bald man riding a war ram.

This left him with nowhere to escape.

ten minutes.

A full ten minutes.

It took Ron, along with Abaddon and a Tier 1 magical beast, to kill Herman.

First-tier creatures are really hard to kill!

If he hadn't been injured and had been focused on running away...

Ron's lineup might not be able to beat him.

Herman lay on the ground with his eyes wide open, making gurgling sounds, his body still twitching even though he was dead.

The battlefield fell silent for a moment.

"Herman is dead!" Abaddon roared.

"Hermann is dead—!" the soldier next to him shouted.

The enemy soldiers dropped their weapons and began to flee.

Several high-ranking squires of Graystone Territory attempted to rally their forces, but the rout was already unstoppable.

The battlefield became a one-sided pursuit.

Andrei, mounted on his horse, brandished his sword in the direction of the rout, his voice hoarse from shouting:

"Chase them! Chase them until nightfall!"

Ron crouched down and took Herman's body away.

Abaddon led his war ram over, the bandage around his neck bleeding again, but his mouth was wide open in a grin.

"Sir, did I do a good job this time?"