Hearing Keller's desperate cry, even though they were at an absolute disadvantage, the remaining soldiers were still full of fighting spirit, roaring and rushing towards their opponents.
"Hehehe, is this guy the commander here?"
A Brotherhood powerhouse at the peak of Tier 3 silently floated behind Keller. The withered wood staff in his hand was surrounded by a row of rapidly expanding fireballs.
In the blink of an eye, the large fireballs had completely solidified, and the rising flames reflected a pale, sinister Brotherhood mask on which the number 000167 was particularly eye-catching.
Keller, who seemed oblivious, still led his soldiers and fought fiercely with several black-armored soldiers.
This new subordinate, who had recently joined their territory, understood clearly.
The Lord had once personally saved his life and had given him equipment that he could never have obtained otherwise. This was an act of grace that he could never repay!
