Salute To The General (Nathan Cross) novel Chapter 663

Colin exchanged glances with the Elite Eight before uttering, "Fight!"

He rushed forward as soon as he finished speaking. Like a raging rhino, he collided with one of the Avalon men leading the charge.

A loud thump followed by a chilling, bonecrunching sound echoed through the air.

The muffled cry of the Avalon commander was soon heard.

Everyone saw what had happened. It was as if a rhino had just rammed into a zebra. The Avalon commander flew several feet before dropping onto the floor. His body twisted at an impossible angle as he lay on the ground half-dead.

Bachok and his men were astonished by the scene unfolding in front of them.

The Avalon commander who had fallen in the face of Colin was considered one of the strongest among Bachok's subordinates.

It never crossed their minds that he would fall so easily as soon as he faced Colin Dunne.

Bachok shifted his gaze at Colin and the Elite Eight. His face had an expression of uncertainty as an ominous premonition crept into his heart.

A battle was imminent between the two factions.

They collided fiercely as they launched volley after volley of attacks against each other.

Bachok's men, however, were seemingly in a state of disarray. They fought unsystematically and were nothing more than a ragtag bunch.

On the other hand, Colin and the Elite Eight adopted the classical North Army fighting style.

Their movements were simple but deadly. Each punch and kick were aimed at their opponent's vital points. It wasn't anything fancy. They relied completely on power and speed to win.

Although Bachok's men outnumbered Colin's ten to one, they were still being slaughtered by Colin's men like pigs in a butcher shop. There was constant screaming and wailing as Bachok's men fell before Colin and the Elite Eight.

One of the bolder men holding a dagger tried to lunge at Nathan, who appeared unprepared. "Die!" He shouted as he aimed the knife at Nathan's chest.

Nathan lifted his leg and executed a high kick, striking his opponent right in the chest.

The man flew like a ball being thrown and crashed straight into the wall. The wall was smashed, forming gigantic web-like cracks on the surface. The man then slowly slid down the wall, leaving an appalling streak of blood on it.

Within a couple of minutes, half of Bachok's men were already either dead or severely injured.

The rest of them began to realize what was happening.