The misty rose sunset enveloped this endless wilderness plain, and even the clouds of various shapes were gradually stained with the brilliance of the sunset, as if the whole world was trapped in the illusion in front of the night.

Under the sunset, the game of chasing continued, running in the front, the noble lady riding a white war horse hugged the horse's neck tightly with her hands, her body pressed against the saddle, and she didn't care about the exposed spring light.

"Save me...Save me...I am a kingdom noble." After seeing Modrian's team from afar, the noble lady flickered in her delicate and charming eyes, and she rode over with a sad look of fear and sadness.

The eager call seemed to issue some special order. The two knight apprentice guards behind the noble lady suddenly turned their horses and bravely faced the enemy behind them, launching a desperate counterattack charge!

Crack! Crack!

The light red giant sword slashed on the guard's armor, and the bursting life energy easily tore apart the solid defense, taking away the lives of the two loyal guards.

The sound of horse hooves chasing still did not stop. Behind the escaped white war horse, gradually approaching the silent black cavalry array.

"Stop moving forward!" Vosman raised the heavy cavalry rifle in his hand, pointing to the aristocratic girl who was gradually approaching with expressionless expression. His face, which was like a pear blossom with rain, couldn't get a trace of interest.

Is this going to cause trouble? Let them face the bandits of wilderness and plains. Although the strength of those people is not worth mentioning in the eyes of Worthman, it does not mean that he wants to help the noble lady, and the order from the lord has not been issued yet.

"Wait, I am a mage apprentice, and my father is Viscount Morri of Limontanelu!" Facing the guy with cold eyes, the noble lady was in a state of heart. Isn't this guy really trying to kill her, right?

Transparent tears slid down on his face. The noble lady accidentally failed to control the reins and fell from the horse's back. The green and yellow grass leaves stained the hem of the snow-colored skirt, rolling up the folds.

"Master Apprentice, Limontanelu?"

Modrian gently looked at the noble lady who was tragically rolling down the grassland. Her delicate and beautiful white face was pitiful, and her charming eyes seemed to be begging for something. Coupled with the neat snow-colored silk skirt on her body, it all means that this is not an ordinary girl.

What a coincidence fate!

As if he knew that he lacked a legal profession in the academic faction and needed detailed information about Limontanelu, such a delicate and beautiful girl appeared in front of him.

"Do you know her? Or Viscount Morrie?" Modrien smiled and did not answer, but looked at Horace beside him with interest and asked.

After lowering his head and recalling, Horace sorted out his thoughts and said slowly: "There is indeed a Viscount Morrie of Limontello, but a palace nobleman whose family has served the Valente family for hundreds of years."

"As for his offspring, this is not clear, but if you want to say that your daughter, who has the talent of a profession in the mage, should have been spread throughout the palace and aristocratic circles, and even had some connections, you could barely send it to the Violet Mage Tower to study."

"Is that true?" Modrian was slightly stunned when he heard the Violet Mage, and then recovered.

"That's the identity of the person in front of you?"

Horace looked up at the wilderness plain robbers, calming his face and said respectfully: "Yes, I can't be sure, at least in my memory!"

Chih!

Raise your hand and swing your arms!

The gray-white gun crossed the distance from the space, cut clear marks in the transparent air, and then nailed the noble lady directly into the body, and the bright red blood dyed the snow-colored silk long skirt along the winding blood groove.

With his legs slightly kicking the red war horse under his crotch, Modrian slowly approached the noble lady and quietly looked at the delicate face of struggling and fear.

Dryus and Horace followed behind him, while Worthman on the other side commanded the soldiers of the Trifalley Legion to lift the heavy lance.

"You...you...why?" asked the noble lady, raising her arms with difficulty, her delicate eyes widened, pointing at Modrian and asking.

The scattered pupils are a desire for life. The mage system does not have tenacious vitality like the knight system and the warrior system. They focus more on knowledge accumulation and mental training.

Now, the noble lady is experiencing the silent fear before death, the fear and unwillingness revealed in her expression.

Logically speaking, this kind of heroic scene should appear in these young nobles who have just grown up and gained superior rights and feel that they are arrogant and arrogant, and should be foolproof!

But to the present, it is a bit different from the expected plot.

The price paid is her life.

"Do you know why?" Modrian looked down at the noble lady and said lightly, his cold eyes swept across the beautiful woman, and a sarcastic smile slightly pulled out of the corner of his mouth.

"Compared with Miss Angela, your acting skills are so bad that I can't bear to look at them!" (Angena Fransovaz, the first heir of the Jeffrey family, see Chapter 51 for details.)

"Uh.........you?"

Broken bones!

The beautiful head rolled down the wilderness plain with bright red blood. The noble lady had no time to leave her name and she died.

The stagnant atmosphere suddenly surrounded the wilderness plain, and dozens of cavalry pursuers consciously stopped stepping down, looking at the black array opposite from afar.

It was not until now that they realized something was wrong. It seemed that the group of black cavalry opposite did not feel afraid because of the uncomparable number of people, but was more indifferent, ignoring and indifference to them, life, and everything.

The leader of the pursuer cavalry slowly rode forward, looking at Modrian, who was obviously the head of the charge, lowered his posture and said, "Thank you for your help. Since we have dealt with the escaped 'fat sheep', then let's say goodbye!"

Modrian half-squinted his eyes, staring at the timid pursuer not far away, and asked softly: "Don't you want the body of this noble lady? Don't you explain the accident this time?"

The sudden question made the leader of the cavalry pursuer not know how to answer. Should he send someone to retrieve the headless corpse, or leave in shame?

This is a difficult question to choose!

With his eyes slightly lowered, the cavalry leader seemed to be in some doubts, but he was silently observing the opponent's strength from the corner of his eyes. A deadly threat that was vaguely pounded deep in his soul.

"Is it a difficult choice?" Modrian gently shook off the bloodstains of the gray gun, turned his head and nodded slightly at Watson.

"Fix them out and then continue on the journey!"
Chapter completed!