The sharp longsword thrust toward the adjutant's chest.
"Nothing special."
The adjutant smiled disdainfully, casually raised his hand, and then firmly grasped the sword in his palm.
The longsword couldn't advance an inch.
As the deputy commander of a two-hundred-person battalion, he was also of Tier Four strength and far stronger than Fabriko. How could that guy have climbed over him if not for having a powerful father?
Then, the adjutant fiercely punched Fabriko in the head, knocking him to the ground.
Fabriko tried to resist, but felt his body rapidly weakening, making it difficult to even lift his head. He then remembered the adjutant was not only a skill practitioner but also an alchemist.
The adjutant waved his hand, "Take the commander away, bind him, and send him to the black prison! Show him a good time!"
A few elves silently came forward, bound the commander, and carried him toward the back of the tent.
