She said, "Wayne Lane, I’m not a good person. If soone slaps , and I’m in a bad mood, I can take their life just like that. Since you want to protect the lives of those so-called innocent people, I do have a good suggestion."
Being too close to her, Wayne Lane had nowhere to divert his gaze and had to avert his eyes, his eyelids lowering, "Speak."
Hannah said, "As long as you can kill all the mbers of the royal family, I will imdiately order the wanderers to retreat."
As her voice fell, Wayne Lane looked up, eting Hannah’s eyes filled with laughter, like a rare full moon in the night sky.
This was the calm before the storm.
The cold long sword in her hand gently lifted the chin of the man in front of her, Hannah tilting her head slightly, smiling as she spoke, "Commander, how about your decision?"
In this mont, she resembled the witch from a dark fairy tale, holding a pumpkin lantern, with eyes as black as night, blood coursing through them dark as well, and so was her heart.
She and Wayne Lane were two entirely different people.
Similar in temperant, yet they had taken completely divergent paths.
Wayne Lane remained silent, his lips tightly pressed.
"What, can’t make a decision?" She shook her head, feigning helplessness, "You’ve always been smart. Why can’t you choose now? One side is the royal family, the other is your so-called innocent populace. Can’t you choose?"
She softly humd, seducing the man before her to step by step cast off the shackles binding him, to abandon all the dogmas he once held as belief.
The cold night wind was too piercing, creeping inch by inch into one’s body.
After a long silence.
Wayne Lane looked up, once again locking eyes with her, "Fine, I choose."
Hannah withdrew her long sword, her lips curving slightly.
The next morning, before dawn, the wanderers launched another attack, this ti completely different from before; they ca furiously, leaving the imperial troops powerless to fight back.
At the critical mont, the captains of several squads pushed the students from the academy to the front lines.
"What kind of rubbish squad, running faster than anyone when it counts!" Samuel Hoffman cursed under his breath, "Jay Brown, what do we do?"
At this ti, Jay Brown had beco their pillar, everyone looking to him.
The young man maneuvering his ch and wielding a long sword, gazing at the approaching wanderers, his brows and eyes sunk deep, "Hold on."
At this mont, they had no choice, nor could they expect help from anyone else.
The so-called propaganda of treating the royal family as a faith beca the biggest joke at this mont.
Jay Brown led the team in a hard resistance, but was beaten back step by step by Sixth Hoffman, falling into disadvantage in just half an hour.
For Jay Brown, who still bore injuries, this was already the longest delay he could manage.
He signaled to Samuel Hoffman, telling them to leave quickly and not to worry about him.
Samuel Hoffman gritted his teeth, he didn’t run, neither did the others.
"We’re all brothers, we could never abandon you!"
"That’s right, we are not those craven scum from the squads, even if we die in battle today, we’ll never leave a brother behind!"
"We will never leave!"
The last shout was unanimous, though everyone was exhausted, their voices still thunderously loud.
Even Sixth Hoffman began to view these once insignificant young students differently, "They do have so of my old flair, such a pity that they happen to be imperial citizens."
They, the wanderers, had an irreconcilable enmity with the empire.
Today, at the border defense line, only the final barrier remained, and they were determined to break through.
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