Chapter 61: Acting Chief
Blood, killing, looting, and madness.
Endlessly killed monsters, quickly doused the fire that had not long burned up, inside the fortress of Vichy Myris, dancing with excitement.
The beasts were scavenging all kinds of loot in a sea of corpses and blood. A heavy-duty big guy, from the waist pulled out a short fortune stick, thick left fingers, gently grabbed a cold stiff pale lips, the right hand wielded that fortune stick, ruthlessly pounded downward, immediately from the cold corpse of the dental bed, smashed down four or five blood-stained incisors.
Although the orcs trade with foreign groups, generally bartering. But within the greenskin community, there is still a stable currency - teeth. Whatever the creature's teeth, the bigger the better, and the sharper, whiter, and more unblemished the teeth, the more valuable they are!
The teeth of the pink-skinned shrimp, although not as thick, expensive and inferior to the fangs of the green-skinned boys. But dime saved up is also a huge amount of money wow! What's more, they have other good things on them. For example, the body of leather armor, hands of iron, and fancy, unexplained-looking wooden carved amulets.
A green boy, even took off five Roman iron helmets, all worn on their heads, the five iron helmets overlapping together, shaking the comical look, amusing the nearby green skin laughing.
Lying inside his six-headed husky-drawn chariot, Garivix, with his merchant clan, toed the line and killed the city. Thousands of inhabitants were caught between two armies of monsters, with no way up and no way down. One by one, they cowered on the ground, shivering. They shouted "mercy" in the common language.
At the same time both ferocious, cowardly two kinds of personality, extra like to torture the weak gnomes, waving the rope in the hands of young healthy humans, all captured as slaves. Well, the vampires ensconced in Transylvania are desperate for slaves, and close by, and can consider selling them backhanded.
As for the rest of the old and sick, thrown to the clan's bottom cannon fodder miscellaneous soldiers, so that they also vent the killing intent and anger in their hearts.
With the sound of hoof beats like drums, Christian also brought the herd, livestock and Pinehurst together. They found an East Gothic wooden wagon, laying four or five layers of thick sheepskin inside, before putting the sleeping Christina, carefully placed in it.
In this mad feast of writing and dividing the spoils, read cajoling, the centaurs focused on plundering human livestock. More than 20,000 head of cattle and sheep, and several hundred lean pack horses were acquired. A plunderer happened to break into the blacksmith store of the Goth barbarians and panicked his animal companion to inform Kulonian.
Upon hearing the news, the marauder leader's eyes lit up and he immediately led his men to surround the blacksmith store, not allowing any monster allies to barge in. It was like a gale that rolled up the falling leaves and swept away hundreds of primitive iron ingots, and molds of spearheads and arrow clusters inside!
The Blood Fury clan is short of everything, but there is no shortage of pack animals specifically for transportation, the load capacity of the centaurs is several times that of humans!
As for the lizardmen, these backward indigenous creatures, they grabbed everything and took everything. They maintain an extremely exuberant curiosity about all the things of their arch-enemies, and many humanoid creatures with scales take the eating utensils and farming tools and tsk-tsk of the Tungots.
Chief Heist, with his druid priests, turned around and returned to the battlefield by the sea, awkwardly wielding the iron axe he had just captured, cutting off the heads of all the Gothic barbarians' corpses. While using the horrific dragon language, praying to their gods, while hundreds of heads, all thrown into the turbulent Black Sea interior.
In the dark, there seemed to be a dark blue light that pierced through the thick clouds and shone on the priests' group, making their businesslike natural aura more dense.
There really are gods in this world. Pinehurst looked at the lizardmen's barbaric and primitive, but indeed effective, blood sacrifice and felt only dumbfounded.
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After hours of following the monster's revelry and plundering, the pale centaur, covered in blood, sat down in exhaustion. Every life you kill yourself, every spell you cast, you get stronger. Also able to explore the deeper secrets of the arcane arts in the bloodline.
Just at the end of the battle with the Romans, there was another arcane spell, with the cold touch of the ghostly blue flame general, automatically erupted on the outside of his body. Turned into a layer of invisible armor, covering his own huge body, blocked the deadly crossbow legion of the Roman legions to save, so that he did not die under the rain of arrows covering the enemy.
This pale coat of their own, too conspicuous in the dark, was set on fire by the other side.
"This arcane magic has not dissipated until now, it's really powerful." Feeling the invisible armor around the body, Pinehurst admiringly wielded the Roman short sword, gently slashing at the fingers of the left hand - but the sharp blade, as if hitting an invisible wall, stopped in mid-air, unable to advance a single inch!
"There you are, come here! People have urgent business for you!"
Suddenly, a moving voice as clear and pleasant as a nightingale, reached the ears of Pinehurst, waking up the warlock who was engrossed in the arcane arts. The pale centaur turned around to see a petite and lovely black mare, swaying her soft waist, with a pair of full and tempting brown mountains, hurrying to her side.
"What's wrong? Christian." Painehus asked in disbelief as he straightened himself up wearily and looked down at the dark-skinned bard.
"The Lord Chief's wound needs to recuperate for at least a month, and the Blood Fury Clan, at this moment, needs a new acting chief." The bard tilted up her own exotic, delicate face, a pair of bloodshot eyes as beautiful and moving as her sister's, shining with an excited, restless, frantic light. "The remaining chiefs and headmen have gathered for the public election ------ Please! Please vote for me!"
"Yes, no problem." Peinhus pondered for a moment and agreed to the black filly's request without hesitation. The old druid had died heroically in battle, and Chani had died under Alpharius' dagger. Then the remaining head, is not the greedy predator head Kulonia, and Caen, Luga that two reckless, how to see is Christian, more suitable for this position ah.
"Wait, I'm just a chief's personal guard, why do I have to vote too?"
The pale centaur raised an eyebrow, suddenly noticing that something was wrong.
"Because you have been recognized by the clan for your great achievements in battle." After getting Pinehurst's promise, Christian breathed a long sigh of relief, like a ruby like magnificent radiant blood-colored beautiful eyes, less a trace of uneasiness, but more three palpitating madness.
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The duo weaved through the vast sea of greenskins, stepping over the bloodied corpses everywhere, and slowly approached a sturdy house made of stone, mud, and piles. This should be the house of the chief of the Eastern Goths, the hall is surprisingly tall, and can even accommodate five tall and sturdy centaurs.
"Peinhers! Christian! You're all back at last!" The bruised and battered Caen gave a tired smile. "Hurry up and get started, each person can only cast one vote. Everyone is almost done plundering, after the election, leave here immediately - those orcs and goblins, have already started to create skirmishes over the loot."
"Under the watchful eye of the gods of nature and community, I! The eldest daughter of the former chief Anna: Christian. Apply to become the acting chief!" Caen's words had not yet ended. The petite and thin Christian, then excitedly stood out, in front of a group of tall people, a million proudly said. "In terms of strength, I am a powerful spell caster. In terms of lineage, I am more honored than all of you here. What's more, of the five people here, I'm the only female! More qualified to be the acting chief of the Blood Fury Clan!"
"The horrible white plague, the ferocious foreign enemy, will not let the fact that you are a female keep you from plundering your property and taking your life! Insignificant dwarf!"
The three stallions living in the matriarchal society have revealed their disdain. Among them, Luga showed the most direct, directly laughing out loud and sneering! "If you weren't Anna's eldest daughter, Christina's sister, you wouldn't be alive now! Your backers are all gone! Dwarf!"
"Shut up! No one will take you for a mute if you say less." Kulonia helplessly covered Luga's mouth, but under the black feather cloak, the gloomy and creepy icy face, but the reckless man's words, flowed with approval. "Good, raise your hand if you agree with Christian as acting chief under the fair gaze of Skerritt."
Within the hall, a large pale hand with an arrow bracelet was raised, and a dark arm that was trembling slightly with anger and aggression.
Pinehurst looked at the situation in front of him with surprise. He had indeed felt the prejudice of the blood rage people against the dwarves. But I never thought that this kind of discrimination would be so horrible!
"Two votes for Christian." Caen gloated and coughed twice. Raising his hands high, he drew the attention of all of you.
"Everyone, listen to me for a moment. Chief Christina was assassinated by an insidious villain when she landed! At that time, the human army was like an overwhelming wave of annihilation, rushing towards the chaotic Fearless troops! At that time, lacking Chani's help and the chief's orders, even I was unable to reintegrate the clan's most elite fearless troops!
At that time, nearly half of the group even tried to escape. At the critical moment, it was Pinehurst who saved the day and reunited everyone! And with excellent strategy, he defeated the Gothic barbarians! I, Caen, admire him! I am willing to make him acting chief!"
"Aye," said Kulonia, extending a slender arm covered with muscles from his black-feathered cloak. "Of all of you doing it, he's the only one who's ever defeated a chief of another clan! And that's twice! Savage Claw! Beast Onador! Both defeated at his hands! In such extreme cases, I think pure power is more convincing than what some people call pedigree."
"Three votes in favor." Luga shrugged his shoulders and raised his arm as well. Although both were quite annoying in his opinion, the tall, godly and handsome white horse was always a little bit smoother than the skinny dwarf.
Three to two in favor of Peinehurst.
"No ------ I'm new to the clan and not familiar with the inner workings of the clan! And still a young recruit! How to see, this position is more suitable for Christian ah!" Peinhers dumbfounded look at the three raised arms, a million amazed to say.
"That was quite a feat a few hours ago when you ordered Heavy Armor Fearless to obey your will and fight bravely, Acting Chief." Caen said with amusement. "Where did your aura go then?"
"That's a special case!"
"Well, well, no need to be modest, under the fair gaze of Skerritt, it has been unanimously decided that you, for a month, will act as chief." Kulonia smiled grimly and patted the pale centaur's shoulder. "Just do it until the chief recovers, don't have so much psychological pressure."
Chapter 62: Blood Rage Sisters
Christian's black and silky coat is trembling slightly with anger and aggression. Not long ago, the bright eyes burning with excitement sparks, as if thrown a pot of cold water, instantly extinguished, darkened, like two groups of burning out of the wet bonfire, filled with tears. Exquisite and beautiful face, but also written with a fantasy dream broken after the boundless despair.
The bard stubbornly turned backwards, pushed open the wooden door fiercely and disappeared into the night without a word.
Looking at the three centaurs with a casual look of indifference, Pinehurst frowned with worry and had to rush out of the stone house alone. But, surrounded by the chaos of the crowd, Christian has disappeared into nowhere
"Magnus! Fly into the air and see where the bard has run off to!"
"To be aggrieved by a little discrimination like this? Then he must not commit suicide when he comes to the nine prisons of Bato." The little devil lazily curled up on the shoulder of the pale centaur, a pair of huge bat wings, like two soft bedding, gently covered his own bloody body.
"And, look to the east." The little devil waved his long tail full of barbed poison hooks, pointed to the sky showing the white of the fish belly, and yawned tiredly. "I fought all night long, now I'm tired and want to sleep."
"Cut the crap! You've been touching and paddling since you landed! She didn't get very far! Feel free to rest when you find her!" Peinhus said anxiously. "Christian has always had a twisted personality, and I was afraid something might happen. I'm not kidding you this time!"
"All right, fine." Sensing the other's anxiousness, Magnus yawned widely, fluttered his bloody flesh wings, and flew up into the cold sky.
"I saw it! That black pony running towards the northern wall!"
"Well done!" Hearing the little devil's report, the pale centaur immediately pushed aside the bustling green tide, and turned into a bitter and piercing pale storm amidst a chorus of complaints and curses, swimming against the current. It didn't take long to rush to Christian, the stubborn and lonely black figure beside him.
"What's the matter, substitute, manager, chief, chief?" Hearing the sound of horse hooves behind her, Christian turned her cold as ice delicate face and spoke calmly without a trace of emotion. Just as cold and distant as she called her twin sister [chief].
"I was going to ask you, what are you doing heading north, do you want to go back to that cold, horrible place of death?" Peinhus grabbed the bard's dark, smooth wrist. Frowned uneasily.
"None of your business! From today onwards, I am no longer a member of the Blood Rage Clan!" Christian, whose face was as cold as frost, tried to break free from the pale centaur's large hand, but it ended in failure. "I've had enough of this kind of life, I Christian just freeze to death, die outside, pecked by vulture hounds, and do not want to see that face of theirs!"
"Luga has always been tongue-tied, there is no need to get angry over that simpleton."
"Luga? Don't tell me you can't see that! The whole clan, explicitly and implicitly, is discriminating against me! Just because I'm a fucking midget!
From birth, I worked harder than anyone else! I read and write like a madman, bent my bow and shot arrows. There was no time to play with my peers, because I was the eldest daughter of the chief! The one who is destined to inherit the chieftainship of the Blood Fury clan! All the people around me were watching me with great interest, and my mother had high hopes for me, and I didn't want to disappoint their expectations, so I studied hard."
Christian choked on a painful hiss as if he had been poked in a sore spot.
"But, what happened? My body is as if cursed by the devil, forever stuck in this small, thin and pathetic state! People around me as an alien, everyone's respectful gaze, all turned into disgust and contempt! If I were not the chief's daughter, I would have been abandoned in the sea of grass! Those adults who once looked at me eagerly, each and every one of them cast their eyes back on my sister's body!
My mother, too, ever since she found out I was a dwarf, has sneered at me, ignored me, and put all her heart and soul into Christina! They ridiculed and trampled on all the hard work I put into it! And this, just because I'm a fucking midget! Years ago, there was no place for me in the clan.
By the way, you saw what they did today, the damn war chiefs, even put you up as a shield to stand in the way of me becoming the chief, the chieftainship, which should have been mine from the beginning! Mine!!!"
"But Christina has never discriminated against you! She kept telling me how wonderful and powerful her sister was! How much she admired you!" Looking at the bard who had finished venting and was panting, the pale centaur, who was not very good at comforting people, racked his brain for ways to persuade the other party back.
"In private, the chief has even frustrated me: his sister has not called himself [sister] affectionately for a long time, as he did when he was a child. Do you want Christina, who is seriously injured and not awake, to wake up and find that her favorite sister has disappeared?!"
Christian struggled a little less, and his mind, which was overwhelmed by anger and humiliation, slowly tended to calm down.
If there is anything that has sustained her up to this point, it is her twin sister, with whom she has an unusually close relationship and who, even when jealous and hated by herself, will hug and pamper herself and try her best to mend the rift between their feelings.
Even if, those cracks did not start because of her.
"I, Pinehurst, have never discriminated against you either. Don't be impulsive, Christian, Clan Bloodrage is where you belong."
"Ha! What a surprise, the only outsider who wouldn't discriminate against me because of a dwarf, is actually because of a wild horse who grew up outside the clan and didn't experience education!"
Christiane was silent for half a second and let out a sneer from the sky. She finally couldn't hold back her crystal tears and gently crouched in Pinehurst's arms, as if she wanted to pour out all the pressure and aggression accumulated over the years on top of each other's broad chests.
Chapter 63: Plundering, killing, enslaving, conquering.
399 years of the Julian calendar - ninth month - first day (month 1)
Gretinian Peninsula
The warm and moist gentle sea breeze, slowly brushing through a blue million hectares of fertile pasture. Let the endless sea of green grass, slightly lowered their green waist, revealing like a vast river of stars like endless white flocks. The magnificent sunrise, slowly climbing up the cloudless blue sky, for the Gredinian Peninsula, sowing a large comfortable and pleasant golden sunlight, the boundless grassland, shining into a brilliant golden pattern.
Under the light of the brilliant sunrise, the people of the Eastern Gothic, have begun a new day of work. Some people carefully cultivated just sprouted green buds, is growing strong winter wheat. Some people grazing like clouds like the mountains, the field, dense and gentle sheep. Some people bring their nets and harpoons and go fishing offshore in small boats, a thriving and beautiful look.
But beneath this illusory prosperity lies a deep scourge of decay: this group of hard-working barbarian humans has not a single healthy adult male. All the work falls on a group of young, healthy girls, and aging, young, and even disabled males.
Perennial militarism, although the Eastern Goths have conquered a whole Gredinian Peninsula, but lacked sufficient manpower to defend this fertile land that has long been covered with corpses and blood,.
"Snap!"
Ankald rode on a thin pack horse, with his only left arm, pulling out the flexible leather whip wrapped around his waist, skillfully threw a loud whip, the two sheep deviated from the group, intimidated back to the inside of the flock like a cloud of dense sheep.
"Damn, that little king has conscripted all the good horses away, causing me to ride this inferior horse to herd sheep." The one-armed man cursed and grumbled. "Hmph, this old guy has to pant after a few steps. It seems that I will soon be able to eat horse meat."
"There, don't complain." Another healthy and beautiful girl, under the watchful eyes of a wary ewe, gently stroking a cute and clingy newborn lamb. "I don't know what's happened lately, the king is frantically drawing in troops, and in just three days, there have been two waves of cavalry, getting supplies in our village, and I don't know what's really going on."
"What can happen? The northern fortress of Visimiris is solid, all the monsters inside the peninsula have been slaughtered, and there is only a small group of green-skinned orcs that can't be killed, resisting in the interior of the Kerch mountains in the southeast. It's safe here." Ankald shook his head and drove his steed through the grass that was big enough to drown his waist.
Suddenly, the sound of clear, loud and clear hoof beats, like a continuous drumbeat, from the north. The Goths in charge of sheep herding looked at the sound, only to see the north, faintly appeared hundreds of horsemen wearing Gothic horned helmets, playing a symbol of the Eastern Gothic Kingdom of the blue background of the gold-crowned flag, galloping in enough to submerge the waist of the lush pasture grass, fast approaching their own here.
"Didn't the king's cavalry troops just deploy to the north? Why are they coming again?"
The girl, holding the tiny, delicate lamb, straightened up in confusion. The cavalryman at the head of the group, with shoulder-length silver hair, the wisps of silky hair, accompanied by his galloping figure, resembled thousands of hideous white snakes with fangs and claws, fluttering recklessly in the wind.
This man did not wear the Gothic style iron cast horn helmet, but with a gold casting of the magnificent crown, the ingenious golden crown, and his pale soft shoulder-length hair reflecting the glory, lining its untamed face, more handsome and eye-catching.
"Something's wrong! Isn't that the old king's crown?! I remember that it was taken away by the earth spirits!" A retired veteran frowned uneasily. Those blue-backed gold-crowned flags ------ also seemed to be stained with a hint of crimson blood.
Just then, a warm sea breeze blew down the fertile pasture. The Gothic herdsmen did not see the neck and head of the horse, which had been lowered because of the gallop. What was reflected in their blue pupils was instead the strong waist of human and horse fusion, with two long and handsome hooves!
These "cavalry" with the Tungot flag are half man, half horse monsters!
"Centaurs! The centaurs are fighting their way in!"
The few herdsmen, immediately abandoned the flock, whipped their horses, panicked and fled to the south, Ankald pulled his daughter onto the back of the horse, the poor old horse suddenly under the weight of this, four hooves and knees directly bent!
"Stop those herdsmen! We can't let them go back to report the news!" Seeing that his disguise had been exposed, Peinhus led three hundred tall and sturdy centaurs into a swift and wild storm of war in a sea of fertile grass! How could the inferior horses of the herdsmen outrun these energetic monsters?
A wooden pole top, wrapped in soft cloth training arrows, a flexible rope soaked in animal fat, like a rainstorm that blinds the sky above the herders, Ankald perception of the back of the head, as if hit hard by a siege hammer, the pain of their own eyes a black, they completely lost consciousness.
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"How was the harvest?" Looking at a dozen of bound hands and feet, fallen to the ground, shivering herdsmen, and behind them like clouds, roaming the mountains of gentle sheep, Pinehurst a long breath of relief.
After separating from the other three seemingly monstrous clans at Fort Vesimiris, he took the Blood Fury clan with him and headed south along the coastline, plundering three fishing villages in one breath, looting countless livestock, food, metal and slaves. Finally, the clan was brought out of poverty and famine.
The clan's empty wine barrels were once again filled with goat's milk waiting to ferment. The empty tables were again filled with fatty roast meat. Cows and sheep and other livestock, now in the hundreds of thousands! Under the prosperity, the clan incidentally restored the slave system that had been temporarily abandoned during the white plague because of insufficient food.
"We're rich! Acting Chief! There are sheep all over the mountain, the number is at least ten thousand! More than all three villages combined! The further south we go here, the warmer and richer the land becomes!" The pupils of Kulonia's eyes turned into the shape of gold coins. "Gredinian is really a good place, human beings are rich, a sentence "kindness" and sound good, I like it here."
"Damned monster! Don't be complacent for too long! The brave and warlike King's Cavalry will take revenge for us!" The girl, whose hands and feet were bound, looked stubbornly at the pale centaur and cursed in the common tongue.
"The king's cavalry? You mean the heavy cavalry?" Painehus raised the Gothic banner he had snatched from his hand and moved his pale, massive body with a smile, revealing hundreds of top-class steeds behind him in charge of the consignment - dozens of lockjaw-clad, nose-swept Gothic barbarians, similarly bound hand and foot and laid out as slaves on top of the horses.
"This-" the girl's eyes widened in horror, in her mind's eye shiny, as if the gods of heaven down the valiant and warlike heavy cavalry, actually defeated?
"The steppe is our world! These Goth barbarians can't even ride steadily on their horses, and they're not even close to the wolf riders and Scruggs of the orcs, and the bunch of cavalry of the Romans."
Looking at the human's unbelievable comical face, Kulonia gave a disdainful laugh. From the cloak completely woven with black eagle feathers, stretched out a thick arm covered with scars, so that a hideous and horrifying black shadow, slowly landed on his own sturdy small arms, two sharp eagle claws, deep into the head of the predator, the thick fur arm protection.
"Acting Chief!" After listening to the eagle's words for a while, a greedy smile bloomed on Kulonia's sinister face. "My eagle has found the village of these herders! It's just to the west, less than six kilometers from us!"
"Good, Kulonia, this time it's your turn to stay behind and watch over the supplies and pack horses, the others follow me!" Pinehurst skillfully arranged the clan's tasks. Let Kulonia take forty marauders with eagle companions, and sixty clan herders, stay behind to take care of the plundered sheep, and more than five hundred top quality steeds responsible for transportation. Himself, with the remaining two hundred powerful centaurs, swept off to the west to kill.
Several consecutive extremely successful plundering, so that Pinehurst within the blood rage clan, quickly established his prestige. The members of the clan, who have become rich under the command of the pale centaurs, are also increasingly convinced of the choices he has made and are increasingly willing to obey his orders.
Chapter 64: Bestial virus
Two hundred tall and sturdy centaurs, under the order of Pinehurst, formed a fan shape and surrounded this sea-facing fishing village. The pale centaurs left behind forty clan herders to block all the roads out of the village tightly. The rest of the hundred or so people, like a terrifying storm representing war and death, singing the pale and majestic prairie songs, laughing and killing the inside of the fishing village!
It is true that cavalry is not suitable for alley battles. They are large and difficult to turn around, and once they lose their impact and get trapped in the enemy line, cavalrymen who are riding on top of horses with very poor balance are easily killed by the chaotic army dragging them down.
But centaurs are different. They achieved the unity of man and horse, the ultimate goal of cavalry. Human cavalry can only use heavy and expensive armor to protect the head of the horse rushing at the front from being killed or injured by the enemy. But the herders, by picking up a huge rough wooden shield, could protect themselves right in front, from head to toe. Except for the lack of flexibility in turning, is a shield infantry with cavalry speed.
If there are two, or more herdsmen with wooden shields, shoulder-to-shoulder packed throughout the alleyway, while running wildly forward, it is simply a full horsepower bulldozer, any attempt to organize the defense of civilians in narrow alleys, are like the destruction of centaurs, crushed into a bloody mush!
Learned a lesson from the Romans, Pinehurst, more directly with twenty heavily armored fearless, all the way to the East Goths' port, pulling out cloth soaked in animal fat, feathered arrows. Let a blazing, trailing scarlet tail flame of flaming arrows, all available for the Goths to escape from the ship to torch!
"Give up the resistance! He who surrenders will not be killed!" The roads were blocked, the ships were burned, and just as the Tungots were in despair with no way up and no way down, the centaurs roared the words of surrender taught to them by Peinhers, throwing a pathway to life, shaking the few remaining morale of the barbarians, and bringing the civilians in desperate straits to their knees in surrender.
Only a small number of people, retreating within the wooden chief's longhouse, made a last stand with spears and short bows, aiming at the wooden door, which was too small for the centaurs.
Pinehurst waved his hand, heavy armor fearless immediately pulled out the animal skin cloth bag filled with grease, these golden animal grease, evenly sprinkled around the long house, and then pulled out the flint and iron, gently rubbed out a little spark ------
"Marauders! Send out the eagle and tell Kulonia that it's safe here, and he can bring all the pack horses with the loot and load up a new batch of loot." Looking at the burning huts with rolling black smoke in front of him and listening to the miserable wails of the Gothic barbarians inside, the pale centaur nodded in satisfaction. "Tie up all these surrendered people, scour the houses, pour grease on them and burn them in a fire! Finish the job and go home!"
"As ordered! Acting Chief!"
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In war, no one is innocent.
If not for these villages, supplying a steady stream of food, horses and soldiers, the Tungots would not have been able to quickly gather hundreds of horse-riding infantry on the grasslands, breaking into pieces and frantically searching for signs of the invading monster. After a vicious battle, the Blood Fury clan now has only six hundred soldiers left to fight. And there are still half of them, staying in the tents to protect the wounded, children, and everyone's livestock and property.
The most frightening thing is that there is no place for the centaurs to replenish their troops!
Until this fatal problem is solved, Peinhus does not want anyone to know the whereabouts of the clan, let alone start a head-on conflict with any power. Therefore, all those who have seen themselves must be driven to extinction!
To be merciful to your enemies is to be cruel to yourself.
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Chessonissus - Palace of the Eastern Gothic
"Wastes! Every single one of them is a waste!!!"
King of the Eastern Gothic: Veselius tore up a letter of bad news from the north in a rage. According to his latest scouts, at least twenty prosperous villages in the north had been plundered by monsters! Some of the villages turned into ruins, scorched earth inside, covered with a large number of messy horse hoof prints - this is the work of the centaurs.
In some villages, it was as if a gale had passed through, leaving no property or inhabitants behind! All the houses were torn down, all transported in the center of the village. Mixed with a lot of other garbage, piled up into a crumbling statue of a giant - no one but the green skin so idle.
Some villages, it is very bloody, the village set up a cauldron, the nearby land was completely wet with blood, a large number of teeth, even the marrow was sucked out of the white bones, sprinkled all over the village - only ogres can do such inhumane things!
However, Asana's report did not include ogres among the clans that united to attack the city - there was a new fucking monster clan that waltzed through the ruined fortress of Vichy Myris!
King Donggoth, for a moment, only felt the sky spinning, headache. He endured the pain and opened a new letter - the seal clay that sealed the mouth of the letter was in the shape of a two-headed eagle.
Dear King of Eastern Gothic.
My unparalleled legions are at war with the evil Persian army in the south, and have no time to care about your insignificant and pathetic land. Nor do I have extra legions to reinforce your weak kingdom. Please understand the difficulties of the empire.
However, I can send a huge fleet that you can't even dream of witnessing, to take all your remaining people back to the territory of the empire. I will generously grant you a piece of land where you can live and work in peace, and allow your people to graze and cultivate there. Of course, as a price, you must pay taxes for the empire and provide barbarian soldiers who make up one-tenth of the total population to do the empire's bidding and fight for it.
Emperor of all the Romans of the East: Felavius Arcadius Augustus
"Bullshit! Does he think I'm a fool? To give me a barren land located at the border of the empire, not knowing how many monsters are eyeing it? I have to use my remaining men to guard the border of the empire while offering most of my strong and healthy children to fight for that shitty emperor?"
Veselius angrily tore the letter into shreds, and maniacally roared to the heavens! "Augustus, what a mighty man! To give me a piece of sloping land, only to make me pay for it with the blood of all my people! I would rather shed the last drop of blood of the kingdom in Gredinian!!!"
A little calculation shows that there are only two thousand elite soldiers stationed in Cesonisos. If you draft and draw from the city civilians, you can probably draft a miscellaneous army of two thousand men. This adds up to four thousand men.
There are still a thousand senior elites in the Carchi Mountains who followed their father's southern campaign, but they are fighting an orc clan that has fought tenaciously so far, and pulling back is tearing down the east wall to mend the west.
If the whole territory is conscripted and all the clan's strength is gathered together, it is expected to be able to put together a huge army of about 10,000 people in size. But that would take a long time! And most of them are infantry! Blood rage centaurs, evil sun orcs, these monsters run faster than rabbits! They can't catch up with them!
What's more, the fortress has fallen for a whole week, in waiting, the hell knows how many more abominable bedbugs, will pour into their father, with their lives to defend the home!
"Your Majesty, the green grass sea in the north is flat and unguarded, let's stick to the wall and withdraw all the people to the coastal mountains in the south of the peninsula, with the location, we can still maintain some of the most prosperous and rich lands in the kingdom." Asana, who had just recovered from a serious injury, barely supported her incomparably weak body and spoke carefully.
"You mean, let me give away nearly two-thirds of the Eastern Gothic Kingdom? And then suffocate in the big cities such as Chersonissus and wait for death?" Veselius' blue eyes were covered with scarlet blood, and his nostrils kept panting thickly, like a furious brown bear.
"Then, Your Majesty, you have one last option." Under the king's energetic gaze, a black shadow shrouded in black robes, emitting a cold aura, appeared out of thin air like a ghost, and slowly walked up to Veselius, looking contemptuously at the fighting priest who had rid himself of the pagan faith at his feet.
"Please open the iron doors of your prison and release your brothers and sisters who have fought alongside us. You must understand! The [Beastly Virus] that the clan has scorned is actually a supreme blessing!" The man in black removed his pitch-black cloak, revealing a bare, hideous head. The slender, narrow eyes shone with an unsettling dark red glow.
"And with this blessing, my brothers and sisters can create a brand new legion for you that will not be inferior to the Romans!"
Chapter 65: The Gaze of the Gods
A sound of shattering and collapse that shook the whole world, destroying the incomparably fragile eardrums of Pinehurst, he painfully covered his buzzing head, and looked in horror at the clear sky - the blue dome, there was a hideous and horrible huge gap!
The terrifying rift was expanding and extending at an unbelievable speed. In the blink of an eye, it became a hideous scar that stretched across the entire dome of the sky, revealing the scarlet and magnificent, but chaotic stars full of madness and killing inside.
"WOW!!!"
Suddenly, a terrifying sea of relentless and endless scarlet blood, wrapped in thousands of white skulls, rushed out of the huge gap, turning into a shocking blood-colored waterfall, as if the dome of the sky had collapsed, ruthlessly fell to the ground! Splash one after another to cover the sky wave of death!
Slowly, those wrapped in the skull of the monstrous wave of blood, crumbling, roaring, rotating to form a giant with a dog's head. He moved his blood and skulls, filled with killing, hatred, rage, enough to suffocate the huge body of all things, blocking the sun hanging high in the sky, on top of the pale centaur incomparably small body, casting enough to make all things tremble the shadow of war.
Standing at the feet of the blood giant, Pinehurst's body was instantly drenched in cold beads of sweat! Six limbs because of the great fear and can not move, breathing more and more disorderly, two hearts are beating faster and faster, almost to explode inside the chest cavity!
"I am quite satisfied with what you have done recently. Continue to please me with an endless supply of blood. Pale horse."
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"Painehurst? Peinhus! Wake up, why are you suddenly gasping for air and your heart is beating incredibly hard - you're having a nightmare?"
Christina worriedly rocked the pale centaur's godly handsome body, picked up a piece of sheepskin, and tenderly wiped the miserable white face covered with beads of sweat.
At this time, a full two weeks had passed since the man and horse entered the Gredinian Peninsula. Seriously wounded chief, barely recovered, many days of recuperation, so that this valiant rouge horse, less a trace of heroism, but more than three points of femininity.
"It's nothing, just a nightmare." Looking at Chief Christina, the gentle gaze of concern, in look around hanging monster heads, all familiar chief tent. Pinehurst let out a long breath of relief. Terror of the evil god shadow, slowly from his mind dissipated. Disturbed breathing and heartbeat, but also gradually tapered off.
"Alas, forget it, do not sleep." Found the blue dome of the sky in the east, has been flushed with fish-belly white. The pale centaur simply from the couch covered with soft sheepskin, straighten up his tall body, from the inner wall of the tent, take out two peculiar brush.
This large and small, two delicate brushes, but Pinehurst spent half a day to create a good thing. Hell, the blood rage clan's centaurs didn't invent any tools to clean and care for their horses' coats! At best, they can wash off the dirt with the help of warm water, or sand.
Before in the cold north, even life is not guaranteed, the pale centaur also did not have time to pay attention to these not very important trivial matters, but now after settling down, he immediately set out to create two kinds of brushes used to care for horse hair in his previous life: hard and thick long-haired brush, and soft and fine short-haired brush.
The former consisted of hundreds of unbelievably tough fish spines. Pinehurst swore to God that these frightening seafood definitely did not exist on that Earth before the crossing. Their fish spines are exceptionally tough, bent into one hundred and eighty degrees, can quickly return to their original shape.
So the warlock took the tips of hundreds of sharp fish spines and carefully polished them into rounded curves. Then, using a sharp axe, cut them to the same length. Finally, with the sticky glue, these tough fish spines were evenly glued to a flat wooden board - the hard brush was successfully manufactured.
The latter is much simpler, just find a Donggoths raised inferior old horse, slaughter and eat meat at the same time, shave its mane, and then the horse's mane evenly placed in the middle of two boards coated with gum, a light clip on it.
"Swish-la."
Pinehurst gently waved a stiff brush made of fish spines and carefully scratched through the Scarlet Marmalade's soft, beautiful blood-colored coat that resembled scarlet satin. The hundreds of tough fish spines with their tips polished into curves gently massaged Christina's soft skin, not only cleaning the dirt hidden inside the long coat, but also stimulating the blood circulation inside her body, so that the rouge horse lying on the bedding, squinted her eyes comfortably and let out a pleasant moaning sound.
"This kind of hairdressing thing, let the slaves to do it is not good, the respectable generation ~ manager ~ chief ~?" Christina said with a teasing smile, I have heard, I am unconscious this time, you are also in charge of material looting, and property distribution, but also to mediate the conflict within the clan, than to be a hundred times busier.
"After all, the clan is in a flourishing state. Besides, you are now as delicate as a porcelain doll that breaks at the first touch, so how dare I let those disgruntled slaves get close to our esteemed chief ~ chief ~ lord ~?" Pinehurst shook his head in amusement and responded with the same tone while picking up the soft, short-haired brush and gently wiping the tiny floating dust from the rouge blazing horse. "Okay, turn over, it's time to clean the other side,"
"Well, well, stop it, it's better to call it by its name, a mouthful of chief sounds too raw." Christina lazily straightened up her shapely and elegant blood-colored body, and after the head and tail were switched, she lay down again on her side.
Soon, the blood rage chief, who had been thoroughly brushed by the other side and was refreshed, ordered two slaves to bring in hot water, cleaned the two brushes, and used the technique handed to her by the pale centaur to clean the godly handsome body of Pinehurst as well.
No way. It is difficult for a centaur to reach the back half of his body and scrub his whole body, and he can only let others do it for him.
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"Yes, it was she who first offered to make the pale horse her mate ------ first the care of her mother, then the eager eyes of her clan, then the throne of the chief, and now Peinhers ------ what I cherish, why are all being taken away from you!" In the sound of two people laughing, in the sleep slowly woke up Christian, in the heart silently vented his dissatisfaction.
The bard slowly opened his own bloodshot eyes filled with hatred, jealousy and aggression. The dark, soft, delicate face was also covered with a deep haze.
"Swish-la."
Suddenly, an extremely comfortable touch, from his own body, the bard was surprised to look back, only to see his twin sister, is intimately lying on his own body, holding the second cleaned brush, gently for his own hair.
"But even so ------ I could never hate it."