My Players Are So Fierce

491: 170.

Feel honored, the deceased, I have brought back what you left behind_1.

491: 170.

Feel honored, the deceased, I have brought back what you left behind_1.

Natalie, leading the only remaining fifty elite hunters of the White Oak Battle Group, launched a charge along the predetermined route toward the besieged Circle Tower.

Shamefully enough,

Despite being the highest-ranking battle group leader, Natalie’s personal strength was basically middling among these fifty people.

Old Eugene, Mother Marianne, as well as several other old captains who had disputed with her at the previous meeting, were all silver-grade Oak Hunters or Oak Sages.

They actually had the qualifications to become reserve White Knights quite a while ago.

If it were not for the collapse of the Avalon Church, these old hunters should have returned to the holy land of Gramo to prepare for their Holy Grail ceremony.

Even more regrettable is that the Avalon Saint Statue and the Natural Holy Grail have both been lost in the chaos that the Church has endured for ten years.

This can basically declare a terrifying rupture in the advanced professional system of the witch hunters.

Under such circumstances, Natalie’s mere possession of the Great Oak Holy Blade was enough to make her the undisputed leader of this group of master witch hunters!

The rather rude sword is their only remaining holy relic now.

“Little Natalie, if you survive this battle, take the time to enhance your natural resonance with the Holy Blade.

With your current compatibility with it, you can’t even exert a tenth of the sword’s power,”

Old Eugene, an Oak Hunter riding alongside Natalie, reminded in a low voice:

“But don’t rush.

It’s going to take a long time.

The two knives your father left for you are also of great significance.

Don’t disgrace these two slayers of evil.”

“Are you making final arrangements?

Don’t want to live anymore?”

Mother Marianne on the other side pulled down her hunters cap looking like a cowboy hat and made a mocking comment.

This nearly sixty-year-old woman, with a chain of bullets slung diagonally across her chest, a pair of black handguns ready to fire in holsters around her waist, and a double-barreled shotgun on her back, kept her eyes peeled around.

Her eyes were full of emerald green, which indicated she was exerting a very high-level scouting spell.

She and Old Eugene have known each other since their youth and are now both old, but their habit of arguing when they meet has stubbornly persisted.

She mocked without mercy:

“Oh please, we are aware of the saying that a nuisance lives a thousand years, aren’t we?

Anyone could die in this battle, but you, being a madman, are most likely to survive.”

The other old hunters emitted low laughter, and the young hunters who were about the same age as Natalie couldn’t help but grin.

The atmosphere of “going to die” in the team dissipated quite a bit at that moment.

This would have been unimaginable in the past, as the original witch hunter battle group was a very strict military organization.

The Avalon Church was training them in the way of the army, but the decade-long war ruined everything.

The surviving witch hunters have long since stopped constraining themselves with harsh rules.

They have learned to seize every moment to enjoy themselves in this cruel age.

Many times, losing an objective feels worse than enduring hardship.

“We will not die here!

No one will die here!”

A hint of a smile appeared on Natalie’s face, but quickly she declared loudly as if making a pledge:

“We will break through and, no matter what lies ahead, we will start new lives in that strange land!

Either we all survive, or we all make our final sacrifice to the Avalon God here!”

The crowd in the team was silent for a moment before the young people responded loudly.

Seeing the Oak Holy Blade behind Natalie gave them courage.

At the same time, the old hunters in the team were watching Natalie herself.

They knew that when this child was born, the Gramo Elder Council had made a prophecy about her.

In that prophecy, Natalie Finocka Lawson would become a true leader.

Before this evening, the true direction of the prophecy could not be discerned, but after this night, perhaps the prophecy will move into realization.

“Still a little green, reckless and stubborn…

This is not a good sign.”

Old Eugene sighed and murmured.

“Maybe you could put it another way: she is full of infinite potential, courageous, and extremely determined!”

Mother Marianne pulled the double-barreled shotgun from her back, applied a Natural Psychic Spell on it, and turned the emerald green light into beautiful natural runes covering the black gun barrels.

Aiming her gun, she murmured:

“Aren’t these the necessary traits of outstanding leaders in the legends?

As long as she survives tonight, she can light up and shine her own light.

Enemy ahead!

Prepare for battle!”

With Mother Marianne’s warning, the witch hunters in the team immediately scattered using their excellent horsemanship skills.

Various weapons were drawn, and crossbows in hand.

Natalie wanted to pull out the twin blades from her waist, but she hesitated for a moment.

Finally, she reached back and grasped the extremely quiet Great Oak Blade, pulling it out of its sheath.

She imitated the way her father used this sword on horseback, letting it droop by the side of her fiery red warhorse.

This pure-blood spirit horse, which had shared the Oath of the Holy Grail with Old Finoc, quietly and obediently carried its new rider.

Natalie knew this pure elven shadow mane warhorse had a lovely name, “Maple”.

“The Guardian of the Holy Blade!

Great!

I came precisely for it.”

In the air ahead of the hunters, Mage Beili, who was serving as the commander, was hovering in the night sky.

When she saw the Holy Blade, she was excited.

Holding a molding magic tome in one hand and a torch-like rod of punishment in the other, she looked down at Natalie, who was ahead of the hunters, with indifference, saying: