The shield's light flickered rapidly, barely resisting the fatal blow, but it also began to shimmer, showing signs of decay and destruction.
And the moment the Heat Vision was stopped, in that fleeting gap,
Sabrina, terrified, saw the golden figure appear nearby.
"No... no!!" She let out a desperate cry and suddenly withdrew her hand, interrupting the multi-person teleportation spell she had been guiding.
At that moment, the shield maintained by the magical item was almost completely collapsed.
Her survival instinct made her desperately want to use magic, and this time she decided to teleport only herself, abandoning Henselt.
Sparks bloomed violently, and her figure barely escaped before Karl could grab her, appearing in another relatively safe spot a hundred meters away.
Her face was pale, she breathed heavily, and her eyes were full of lifelong fear as she looked at Karl.
But she no longer had the slightest fighting spirit; she turned and activated teleportation again, fleeing further.
Karl watched Sabrina teleport away, snorted coldly, and didn't pursue her.
He had immediately launched his Heat Vision to kill the opponent, but didn't expect a protective magical item to activate and resist the attack.
The teacher was right: the longer a sorcerer lives, the harder they are to kill, especially if the opponent has life-saving magical items.
However, the main goal of this trip had been achieved.
He casually kicked Henselt, who was completely terrified and had collapsed to the ground because Sabrina had fled, kicking him to the ground.
"Ugh!" Henselt let out a cry of pain.
His fat body rolled on the ground, and his crown fell off, covered in mud.
Karl glanced at the fat king, then at Sabrina, who was about to become a tiny dot in the distance.
The value and strategic significance of capturing a living king prisoner was far greater than killing a hostile sorceress.
Karl grabbed Henselt's breastplate with one hand, like a fat pig for slaughter, lifting the shockingly heavy King of Kaedwen off the ground.
Henselt struggled in terror, his legs uselessly kicking in the air.
His fat face was pale with fear, and still retained half of a king's dignity.
Karl took a deep breath, then shouted, his voice exploding like thunder.
"Stop! All Kaedweni soldiers, lay down your weapons and surrender immediately! Your king has been captured by me!"
The sound clearly spread to every corner of the battlefield, even temporarily drowning out the cries of killing, the clashing of weapons, and the wails of the dying.
This shocking announcement was like pouring a ladle of cold water into a boiling oil pot.
In an instant, on the battlefield, whether the Temerian soldiers who were fighting desperately or the Kaedweni warriors attacking in despair,
they all involuntarily stopped their hand movements and subconsciously followed the source of the sound.
What drew their attention made Temeria rejoice and Kaedwen feel like they were in an ice cave.
They clearly saw King Henselt, who was dressed in exquisite patterned plate armor and usually arrogant,
at this moment being carried by a knight in dazzling golden armor with one hand, struggling awkwardly in the air.
After a short pause on the spot...
"Victory! We've won!!"
"Long live Temeria! Long live His Majesty!"
"Long live Lord Karl!"
The Temerian soldiers and knights erupted in thunderous applause, raising their weapons high and banging their shields vigorously.
Everyone's faces were full of lifelong joy after the disaster, and their morale instantly rose to a peak of admiration and gratitude for the golden knight.
On the other side, the Kaedweni soldiers were stunned, their faces full of bewilderment, disbelief, and utter despair.
When they saw the hundreds of corpses and stumps at Karl's feet, the blood almost flowing into a stream,
the last trace of will to resist also completely collapsed.
"I surrender! Don't kill me!"
"I surrender! We surrender!"
The surviving Kaedweni soldiers threw down their bloodied weapons without hesitation.
They raised their hands high and loudly begged for mercy in tearful voices.
They were afraid that if they slowed down, they would follow in the footsteps of those comrades.
However, not everyone was willing to accept such an ending.
Some of the Kaedweni cavalry, especially some noble knights, could not accept the shame of the king being captured and the entire army surrendering, let alone becoming prisoners.
They winked at each other, sharply turned their horses, and squeezed the horses' bellies, trying to use the chaos to escape from the battlefield that was about to become their prison.
"Want to run?" Karl raised his eyebrows, a cold light flashing in his eyes.
His gaze swept over the ground, and the scattered lances left by the fallen soldiers exploded like lightning, lifting five lances.
The lances had just been lifted from the ground and hadn't yet begun to fall.
Karl's figure had already flickered, and he kicked five times in a row with his right foot, each kick hitting the lower end of the lance's tail.
WHOOSH—WHOOSH—WHOOSH—!
The five lances were launched as if from a bed crossbow, with a piercing, mournful sound of tearing air, shooting into the backs of the knights trying to escape.
THWIP!
"Ugh!"
Almost at the same moment, several short, mournful cries came from afar!
The few fleeing knights, although their smooth, curved back armor made it difficult for the lance tips to directly penetrate or even scratch,
the force carried by the lances was transmitted to them firmly.
They were knocked off their horses, blood spraying from their mouths, falling heavily to the ground, breaking their tendons and losing mobility.
But on the farthest flank, there were still two cavalrymen who hadn't been chosen by chance, and they had already ridden some distance away.
At that moment: CRACKLE! Two dazzling white lightning bolts tore through the air with incredible speed, precisely hitting the two knights about to flee.
"Ah!!" The two knights were pierced by the powerful electric current, letting out short cries.
Their bodies convulsed and twitched, and they fell from their horses in black smoke.
After a few twitches on the ground, they completely lost their voices.
In the distance, Triss and Fercart almost simultaneously lowered their spell-casting hands.
They looked at each other, and both noticed a slight relaxation in each other's eyes.
After a short break and being away from the influence of the dimetrium, they had recovered some of their magical power.
At this moment, the Kaedweni cavalrymen who were still scattered and longing to escape completely extinguished all their thoughts.
They had instantly seen the tragic death of their comrades, then looked at the golden figure standing in the center of the battlefield like a demon,
and not far away, the two sorcerers and the many Temerian cavalrymen who were watching them. Their hearts were full of powerlessness and fear.
Escape? Where to escape? In front of this monster, escape was tantamount to suicide!
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