The Templar Knight's face was contorted with grief and rage as he roared as he charged toward Lin Mo: "Die, servant of Satan!"
Lin Mo did not respond to his roar, but simply stood quietly in place, gripping the Dragon Slayer tightly in his hand, waiting patiently.
In the blink of an eye, the Templar Knight was already in front of them.
The crusader sword in his hand slashed swiftly towards Lin Mo!
Lin Mo's expression remained unchanged; he simply swung his sword calmly.
"Clang!" The Templar Knight's longsword fell to the ground in response to Lin Mo's seemingly ordinary strike.
"Pfft!" The Dragon Slayer Sword emerged from the abyss like a dragon, its sharpness unmatched. The tip of the sword pierced through the air, aiming straight for the Templar Knight's throat.
Blood gushed out, and the opponent fell straight off his horse without even letting out a scream, his life ending in an instant!
The remaining Crusaders stared blankly, clearly witnessing the fall of the last Templar Knight. In the instant he lost his balance, a spurt of scarlet blood gushed from his throat, like a poignant sunset reflected on the battlefield.
The scene was horrifying; a powerful wave of dizziness surged through their brains like an invisible tide. The crusaders' hearts raced instantly, as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand of fear.
At this moment, although they were not injured, they were unable to control their bodies.
Soon after, three hundred heavily armored Tang cavalrymen arrived.
They swept away the Crusaders guarding the True Cross like a whirlwind sweeping away fallen leaves.
Lin Mo kicked the spurs and strolled toward the True Cross.
With a single sword stroke, he broke the iron lock on the oak box and took out the True Cross, which Christians treasured.
"Now, Bob Wynne, let's see if you'll abandon the relic and choose to withdraw your troops!"
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