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When the dust subsided, Van Daleson widened his eyes in disbelief.

In front of him was Fredrinn. He was still unscathed even after blocking those fearsome wind blades! Even his mount wasn't injured. 

"What?!" Van Daleson exclaimed as if he had seen a ghost. That was his strongest battle technique and the guy effortlessly blocked it. Was there still any meaning in fighting someone like him? He felt an overwhelming sense of despair. There was no hope of victory. 

"Surrender! Do you want to see more soldiers get killed?!" Fredrinn uttered coldly, his words jolted Van Daleson awake.

The latter turned his head and looked at the scene of carnage. The Wild Wolf Corps that he was so proud of was breaking apart in front of his eyes. The difference in the two armies' strength was evident. 

Van Daleson slowly loosened his grip on his lance as he shook his head, sighing heavily with an emotional gaze.