Chapter 556: Chapter 26: General Robson’s Strength

On the plains, a chaotic battle began to rage.

Although everyone had lost many subordinates, and even friends and relatives.

But with a great enemy before them, there was no time for sentimentality.

Seeing Grantham engage the Marquis, everyone couldn’t help but feel nervous for him.

Grantham’s strength didn’t just lie in military strategy; in terms of personal might, he was one of the very top figures in the kingdom.

Marquis Oscillate was only at the Golden Ninth Tier, and he was old now.

The distant reinforcements were still clearly some way off.

Everyone hesitated, wondering whether to use their life-saving techniques and put Oscillate in their debt.

In that brief moment of hesitation, the situation took a sudden turn.

The Marquis’s Extraordinary power was somewhat hollow, having been propped up by resources. Marshal Grantham seized an opportunity, and the Marquis was sent flying backward.

"Marquis!"

Grantham was about to finish off the kingdom’s old minister with a single strike, but thankfully, a Knight’s Sword was thrown, deflecting the Marshal’s blade just in time.

It was Robson who had acted.

’He broke free that quickly?’ Grantham wondered, looking into the distance.

The legendary expert who had been fighting Robson was now entangled with a phoenix and a dragon.

"No wonder. I’d forgotten you had two magical beasts..." Grantham said with a laugh.

Seeing that he had made it in time, Robson breathed a sigh of relief and looked back at Marquis Oscillate.

"Marquis, are you all right?" Robson asked.

Oscillate let out a long breath.

In that instant, he had been closer to the Lord of Dawn than the Pope himself.

"You kid, your timing is impeccable..." The Marquis closed his eyes.

"You are Valentino’s grandfather."

At the juncture of life and death, family ties were the most reliable, for the help of one’s kin required no justification.

Of course, a part of it was because Robson knew that by saving Oscillate, he was guaranteed a handsome reward from the Marquis.

"It seems I won’t be able to kill you after all."

Marshal Grantham chuckled lightly. Seeing Robson was unarmed, he also tossed aside the Algerian Soft Sword in his hand.

"Good. I often hear people say that you might be my successor."

"I won’t get a chance to see about other aspects, so today, let me see if your strength is up to par."

"So much nonsense."

"Robson, hold him off. Be careful."

Without another word, Robson charged forward.

The Marshal postured, seemingly about to trade fists with Robson.

Unexpectedly, when they finally clashed, both men tacitly drew their weapons.

Robson wielded a Knight’s Sword, while Marshal Grantham held a Frankish Heavy Sword.

But Robson proved to be the more decisive of the two; Marshal Grantham nearly had his throat slit.

"How un-knightly..."

Grantham had just begun to mock him when Robson’s Long Sword struck again.

At first, Marquis Oscillate worried that Robson would be no match for Marshal Grantham.

After all, the Marshal had been immersed in the legendary tier for many years, while Robson had only been there for a few days.

But soon, Marquis Oscillate cast that worry aside.

"Is that Tillia Royal Swordsmanship?"

"He wields it so well..."

A few wounded soldiers lying on the ground could do nothing but watch Robson and Grantham fight.

Everyone noticed that Robson’s Swordsmanship was a compilation of the best from many different schools.

There were styles from Tilia, Algeria, and even some meant for women.

Normally, learning such a hodgepodge meant one would be a jack-of-all-trades but a master of none—a major taboo!

But with Robson, there was no such feeling at all.

Robson had seamlessly integrated various forms of Swordsmanship, and his fighting style was a beautiful sight to behold.

Both Robson and Valentino were disciplined people; whenever they had free time, they would practice their Swordsmanship daily.

With the help of his system panel, Robson had already maxed out nine types of Swordsmanship, along with many other miscellaneous skills.

If that were all, the two would likely have been at a stalemate.

But Robson was enveloped in a strange, silvery-white combat aura that seemed to suppress the Marshal’s dark aura.

For a moment, Grantham actually found himself at a disadvantage.

This spectacular display of Swordsmanship did not last long.

Several figures flew over from the distance.

"Marquis!"

"Oscillate, are you all right?"

The legendary-tier reinforcements had arrived.

Two of them were natives of the Frank Kingdom, and three were Oscillate’s international friends.

"I’m fine, I’m fine."

"Go help Robson first," the Marquis said, waving his hand.

The legendary experts quickly joined the battle.

From this moment on, the tide of battle began to turn.

Among the dozen or so Warriors the Marshal had brought, while many were legendary-tier, they were ultimately lifeless puppets, no match for living people. A decent warrior at the Golden Eighth or Ninth Tier could fight them to a standstill.

As these legendary experts joined the battlefield, more reinforcements arrived in a steady stream.

Extraordinary warriors of the Gold and Silver tiers...

One by one, the puppets were destroyed.

Marshal Grantham was already losing to Robson; now, facing so many people, he was completely outnumbered.

The one-sided advantage he once held was reversed into a crushing defeat.

Before long, the Marshal collapsed weakly to the ground.

But no one stepped forward to finish him off.

Grantham’s status was too special.

Not just in the Frank Kingdom, but throughout the entire Human World, Grantham had been one of the most talked-about names in recent years.

Besides, no matter how one looked at it, Grantham was an internal affair of the Franks.

"Not bad..."

"And you... that last sword strike, you must have figured that out yourself, right? Much better than I was at your age."

The Marshal simply lay on the ground, resigned to his fate, and laughed.

Robson was also hesitating, wondering if he should do the deed himself. He was a Frank, and strictly speaking, this was an internal affair of the Franks.

Grantham had commanded the army for many years; there was no guarantee he didn’t have some fanatical followers.

"Robson..."

"Stand down. This man is a heretic; don’t dirty your hands," Marquis Oscillate said with a smile.

Robson was glad for a way out. Hearing the Marquis’s command, he immediately stepped aside.

Lord Robson was not yet fully established and had no desire to be entangled in such major repercussions.

With a complicated expression, Marquis Oscillate stepped forward, a Knight’s Sword in his hand.

"I thought you might act as you did at Riliman Fortress."

"Riliman Fortress? You mean run away? Run away or self-destruct?" Grantham asked.

"Run away... I don’t want to run anymore. My homeland has betrayed me."

"And self-destruction is too painful. I can’t bring myself to do it."

"Besides, would you really be at ease if you didn’t watch me die with your own eyes?" the Marshal laughed.

"That’s true."

"More than twenty years ago, George recommended you to me. I suppose no one back then could have imagined it would end like this."

"Kemal is dead, and you’re about to die. How much longer can Louis and I last?"

As the Marquis spoke, he arrived in front of Marshal Grantham and aimed the sword at the Marshal’s heart.

"Grantham, your name will be entered into the King’s Altar," the Marquis said.

Marshal Grantham closed his eyes.

Robson saw only a spray of blood.

In the short span of a month, two legendary figures had died before his very eyes.

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