Chapter 126: The sound of decadence
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Skerritt's Yew
Time went forward slightly. After a night of revelry, the chiefs woke up in the evening with their foreheads aching from hangovers, and began to divide the spoils. The sacred fire was extinguished, three clans were revoked, and the remaining 8,000 men and horses, and their property, like a large piece of tender and delicious lamb chops, so that nine chiefs salivate.
"I don't want to expand the clan's population, and I won't accept any people or horses. Accordingly, I will take an extra share of the material possessions of the sacred fire." An Ran of Tasmar let out a moan of pain, and several handsome young elven male pets, rushed to lift the chieftain's dark tresses and tenderly massaged her fair forehead to ease the sharp pain from that hangover.
"Blood Wrath Clan is just the opposite, we don't want the priests' weaponry or the looted gold and silver treasures, but we need a large number of brothers and sisters whose clans have been dissolved and are homeless to join the banner of Blood Wrath." Pinehurst accompanied Christina around and spoke calmly. This era of inferior brewing technology, the alcoholic strength is not very high, barely touched their dead line.
Divine Fire and his party, the last clan to enter Gredinian, rich villages with huge herds, have long been plundered by other monsters. Skerritt's Yew, is a small port fortress, fishing boom, but little livestock. Resulting in the gang of nomads poor, eating salted fish every day to live.
The extreme scarcity of food was also one of the major reasons for Khaan's eagerness to declare war.
However, Tasmar kept a large number of goblins, elves, they do not have enough resources, food, to continue to expand their clan, and therefore, turned to the demand for some of the priests from the body stripped, quite fine weapons and armor.
Blood Fury, on the contrary, as the first centaur clans to sack the peninsula, their livestock numbers expanded to a frightening number, that is, the clan population, heavily damaged in the war, important grazing work, are dependent on the Goths and Caucasian dogs to complete the urgent need for a large population.
After some large arguments of head-to-head tugging and secret bribes, the Blood Fury clan got sixteen hundred adult horses and eight hundred infant foals after giving up all their gold and silver treasures. The size of the clan was three times more than in its heyday. The other clans, too, were content to get what they wanted.
However, the fight went on and on, and in the end, there were still a thousand people who had not decided to belong. The other clans were not as short of livestock and food as Tasmal, but they were not much more. With so many members suddenly added, internal stability is also a headache. And Toriya's Gold Crawler clan already has five figures. The internal population is too saturated, and she is not interested in taking on more members.
Of course, this is like a slave trader general secret deal, it is absolutely impossible to tell the people outside the horse, the council will use all kinds of crowning reasons, those who do not have the clan of the prodigal children, according to the agreement reached at the meeting, assigned to the various chiefs.
"The remaining 1,000 people, Blood Rage wants them."
Painehurst secretly calculated the number of livestock within the clan, ruthlessly, and spoke again. There are a large number of Gothic barbarians within the clan, all inclusive of the prosperous fishing ports along the southern coast, catching up countless fish every day. With these laborers ------ no, I mean brothers and sisters, the barbarians who are responsible for grazing and planting all sent to work in the fishing port, can barely afford it.
"You want more? Don't get too greedy, pale horse." Tolya frowned, the words. "As far as I know, the population of the Blood Fury clan is only nine hundred, expanding to a congregation of four thousand in a short period of time, with such a large appetite, are you not afraid of choking? Some things need to be measured."
"The internal affairs of our clan are not your concern." Christina argued. Since the two sides had an irreconcilable conflict, there was no need to continue to be sycophantic.
"Swish-la!!!"
Just as the two chiefs were arguing, the curtain of the tent was suddenly lifted and two sweaty scouts, drenched in panic, rushed into the meeting and cried out in terror as the chiefs looked on in disbelief. "Trolls! Sutter! A coalition of monsters is approaching the fort!"
Toria looked down and pondered for a while, the other clans do not have enough food to continue to expand the scale. Their own clan suddenly increased by one tenth of the population, this chaos is not big, not small, damage to others is really unnecessary, forget it, let the blood rage to play by themselves! The population suddenly quadrupled, I'd like to see how they balance the internal conflict!
"But ------ our territory, too turbulent, too many monster clans are active and roaming in the northern grasslands from Skerritt's Yew to Iron Peak Fortress. In order to let those three thousand newcomers, with your headquarters clan, have a higher degree of tacit understanding and identity, the task of cleaning up those foreign clans, to you. Of course, we will also support to a certain extent."
"Deal."
"Good, silly regenerating monsters, and flute-playing slutty hooves huh, finish them off."
The golden crawler chief finally some can not bear the hangover pain, forced calm face, for the first time reveal a painful look, beside the guard, hastily presented a huge wooden box.
With a flick of her left hand, Toria saw countless verdant vines, like poisonous snakes, wrapped around the exterior of her elegant, godly handsome body. Countless vines, fixed in place, continued to dance wildly with their slender, twisted, tender green bodies, grabbing a golden, shiny, curved wooden board and arming them on top of the six limbs of the god's chosen descendants. Including a piece of gold mask decorated with huge antlers on both sides and countless fine patterns carved on the front.
The whole dressing process, no more than five seconds.
---------- ------
Outside the city, along with the Sartrean bard, the moving sound of the **flute**, the trolls let out a heavenly roar, raging to kill the patrol of people. The golden scouts were just about to open their bows to meet the attack, but the **flute sound, which was filled with magic energy, had already reached their ears!
The black and white night scene in front of you, like a calm lake, was put into a stone, ripples, and so the shaking, distorted visions are all dispersed, the enchanting woman with a goat's hoof in the distance, actually transformed into the usual high, unsmiling gold crawler chief, and also scratched his head, blossoming out an ambiguous smile.
"The bard's sonic illusion ------" The scout tried to get rid of the illusion's interference, but the illusion the other party exhibited was too fascinating, it was a chief untouchable on a regular basis! Even if it was a dream, the scout could not resist the urge to finish it.
At this moment, the trolls who roared "Ollie gives" were less than 50 feet away from them.
"That's an illusion, an illusion! Wake up, all of you!" Some strong-willed centaurs hissed furiously as they shot dense, sharp arrows to hinder the trolls' charge while trying to wake up their compatriots who were sinking in their dreams.
But more eerily beautiful half-human, half-goat, joined the battlefield, they have pulled out their waist harp, one can not control two, two can not control then a group! Hundreds of pastoral flutes, while playing a gentle and evil seductive melody. The sound of the music hovered over the battlefield and could not dissipate for a long time.
Looking at the aggressive troll tribe in front of him, and looking at the "golden crawler chief" created by the illusion beside him, gently stroking his face, even the most determined veteran gradually gave up resistance, in a gentle environment, trembling and threw down the longbow in his hand.
At this point, the troll was only twenty feet away from them!
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Chapter 127: Night Moon Wild Hunt
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Seeing those greenish, mossy trolls, raising their sticks high in the air, the life-threatening centaurs, as if waking up from a dream, finally broke free of the fragrant illusion. But it was too late, the head covered with dark green hard skin of the behemoth, has killed in front of them!
"BOOM!!!"
The trolls let out a cocky laugh and heaved down the wooden sticks in their hands. But the sea breeze did not come with the familiar sound of broken skulls, and blood flowing, the rotting green monster fixed his eyes - the sweaty human and horse in front of him had four hooves slightly bent, hands raised, all over the body was trembling gently - although somewhat reluctantly, but these The monster strength is slightly inferior to the trolls half-man half-horse, but still with both hands, caught their own powerful blow!
"ROAR!!!"
The angry trolls opened their ghastly bloody mouths, a thick stench as if by thousands of souls, mixed together, came to the nose, smoked the scouts hastily hold their breath, the next second, the trolls deflected the neck, biting fiercely in the other's left shoulder, sharp fangs deep into the flesh and blood of the scouts skin, splashing large nest of bright blood-colored waves.
And the battle-hardened Golden Crawler scout was not willing to show weakness, she endured the pain of **, pulled out the long sword at her waist, accompanied by a chilling sound of tearing flesh and blood, sharp sword blade, directly into the opponent's left chest!
Unfortunately, the severe pain in his shoulder still affected the veteran's judgment, and the longsword struck hard on top of the troll's ribs and did not pierce his opponent's heart.
By this fatal blow, the troll panicked and released the jaws, with a mouth full of blood, and the centaur pulled away, after a round of exchanges, both sides were not lightly traumatized, the scout alertly pulled out a cleaner piece of sheepskin, covered the bloody left shoulder, while the troll's wounds, but at a speed visible to the naked eye, healing as before.
"Trolls in charge! Retreat! When you just shouted the slogan, you've nearly alerted the enemy! They've just been informed by someone! The army inside the castle has assembled and is coming towards the outside of the city!"
"Che - what a buzzkill!"
The leader of the troll warlord, relying on his proud regeneration ability, let the other party's spear, piercing his abdomen. At the same time, his dark green terrifying claws, with the speed of lightning, grabbed the body of another golden scout, pulling hard, directly to the other right arm, along with half of the shoulder, ripped off!
Listening to the painful wails of his enemies, the troll raised the bloody remnants of his body high in the air, with the cleft aimed at his head, pouring down countless torrents of blood, bathing himself in that crimson rainstorm and letting out a wild roar!
"All right! Boys! Enough fun, retreat! Retreat!"
"AlanNure Chosen Descendants! Hold them off! The council army will arrive soon! None of you will leave!"
The scout captain angrily bent his bow and arrow, shot the barbarian hammer clan, that tied with twine barb feather arrow, sharp iron tuft, through the troll flesh that fell at the end, the hideous barb, also stuck in the gap between his calf fibula and shin bone.
The centaurs were about to pull back on the twine, but Sutter's seductive voice came back! A nebulous, beautiful body, so they once again intoxicated in a dream, the second time to stop action, watching the enemy far away - damn, the troll see can not tear the grease-soaked, slippery rope, simply cut off his own calf, after pulling out the arrow, in front of the crowd, and put the leg back together!
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"It doesn't make sense. These monsters have two skills of detection, and they observed this fact before the army left the city, and then retreated in a hurry. But what is their motive for going to all this trouble? Looting food? With that kind of scouting ability, they simply wouldn't take on a horrific army that was over 10,000 in size. That logic doesn't make sense."
Toria, who led the army to pounce, looked at the haphazard trail that stretched to the end of her vision and fell into deep thought. The gold-treaded scouts who got rid of their dreams at the side stood in a row awkwardly, hating to bury their heads in the ground, not daring to look directly at the real God's Chosen Descendant.
"According to these scouts, the other side is an allied army of Sats and Trolls, an exceptionally rare combination of these two races. And the scale has reached a terrifying size." Abhors puzzled tidying his hair, combing his full head of green hair into a long, thin pigtail, and then tying it behind his head into a single ponytail overflowing with youthfulness - he drank the most yesterday, and was still in a cloaked, half-asleep state of ecstasy during the meeting.
"So, the other side is just trying to harass us? Why? What's in it for them?" The chief of the Thunder Spear Clan scratched his head in confusion, unable to understand this strange behavior.
"Who knows ------ Chiefs, gather your best scouts and track from afar to scout out the retreating monsters! If possible, capture a few live ones back for interrogation, and keep the rest of the army on alert!" Toria took off her antler mask and rubbed her white forehead hard. Trying to relieve the double headache caused by the hangover and thinking.
"Christina, you go and collect those newcomers to the clan, this is the most important thing right now, as for this scouting mission, I will finish it." Pinehurst whispered softly in his lover's ear. Then he bent his bow and arrow, and Curonia, with dozens of elite marauders, and the only six remaining druids, followed the trail, and carefully advanced to the west.
The pale horse, who prefers to work with the head of the marauders than the two reckless men of Luga and Caen. He is a bit greedy, but sinister and cunning, efficiency first. Can shoot arrows at long range never close physical combat, can lead a group of people to fight never with a single person.
After hearing the order, other clans also sent a large number of druids, marauders, mixed with scouting troops, to participate in this tracking operation, a time, hundreds of eagle partners, like a wisp of appalling black smoke, straight to the clouds, black pressed a large, almost covering the radiant starry sky above the fortress.
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Chapter 128: Spinning and jumping with eyes closed
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Centaurs are afraid that behind this allied forces, hiding more monster minions, in the darkness of the night do not dare to rashly pursue, had to send countless elite scouting squads, to go ahead and explore the situation.
And Sartre and the trolls, too, feared the huge mixed army of centaurs. Not daring to stop their retreat and turn around to meet the elite scouts whose numbers were far smaller than their own, they likewise sent out a handful of elites to try to cut off the tails that were sticking to the back of the army and cover the retreat of the hordes.
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Peinhus galloped beneath the star-darkened night sky. As a centaur, his night vision is far superior to that of humans. In the darkness, everything within sight is like a master's sketch, only a monotonous black, white and gray.
A blue million hectares of grass field, as much as the darkness of the face of the extreme richness. The starry dome, as if an abyssal curtain sprinkled with diamonds. The rest of the scenery, respectively, showed shades of gray, so that the eyes of the night vision, can clearly identify their outlines.
And those who breathe air life, in the pupils of the pale centaurs, turned like a ghost of the abnormal white, in this loss of color in the monotonous world, particularly conspicuous.
Also have the ability of night vision blood fury marauders, have bent their bows and arrows, along with the thunder-like, deafening sound of the bowstring collapse, to the eyes with a ram's horns look like a tragic white figure, shot a sky-blind steel arrows.
And the blood fury shot sheep on their backs Sutter, also angrily pulled open the hands of the composite short bow, back to shoot a dense rain of bone arrows, forcing back hovering in low altitude, trying to detect their own details of the falcon, several sharp bone arrows, also cut a sinister and tricky arc, in front of the Pinehurst vitals of the air, hitting the ripples.
The pale centaur's attainment of magic is not what it used to be. He can maintain the invisible [mage armor] for a full twelve hours, and the stray arrows on the battlefield, and some dark arrows, can hardly pose an effective threat to him.
After the two sides shot each other round, Sutter side suddenly came out of the terrifying sound that shook heaven and earth, the sound of countless horses' hooves trampling the earth, such as muffled thunder, such as war drums, pale figures dense, even into a long piece!
"Go! Retreat! Magnus! You go stealthily and see how many people are on the other side!"
After all, there are limits to vision in the darkness, and the eagles were forced back and shot by the rain of arrows, resulting in the blood rage scouts, unable to estimate the number of opponents, according to the golden crawler scouts report, this gang of Satyrs may have as many as three thousand! The elite marauders under their own command, only a hundred, in an emergency, they had to turn around, while retreating towards the rear, while twisting their strong and flexible waist, cast the Parthian archery, to the dense white shadow of the ram's horn behind them, splashing out a large number of sharp arrow clusters.
Little devil shrugged, the whole person instantly disappeared into the night, he fluttered a pair of huge flesh wings, deftly dodged the rain of arrows to and fro, slowly approaching the east, the sound of horses' hooves that resounded through the clouds like thunder, shaking his heart and trembling, but, closer look - the other side sent to intercept the troops, after the rain of arrows After the baptism, even less than a hundred people! Those frightening sounds, all the bard to create a hallucination!
"There are no low level spells, only low level mages are there." After receiving the magical pet's report, Pinehurst shrugged speechlessly, Zero Ring Trick [Illusionary Sound Art], a move he also knew, but always felt that the spell was of little use. This time, the enemy had taught him a good lesson.
"Spread out on both flanks! Slow down! Prepare to kill back! Magnus has reported that there are less than 100 enemies! Those scary sounds and images are all illusions! Follow my movements in a moment!" Peinhus pulled out two soft sponge-like solids from his package and stuffed them in his ears. The rest of the men and horses followed suit - the bard's auxiliary ability is certainly terrifying, but there are limitations, as long as the sound is not heard, the opponent's sound magic will be useless.
Only to see, more than a hundred marauders lined up in a row, the middle accelerated running, both sides in turn slowed down, gradually formed a scattered, but huge pocket shape, Sutter thought that the centaurs were frightened by their own vast array, and thus scattered to flee, let out a smug maniacal laugh. Completely unaware that his own troops, slowly falling into the trap of the centaurs, were surrounded on three sides.
Just as the bard was smiling, the man in charge of the blood rage banner, under the sign of the acting chief, waved the hideous banner of the blood skeleton in his hand three times quickly, and after seeing the signal, the blood rage man horse stomped the ground with all four hooves, and the whole man leaped up high while rotating his huge body, completing a hundred and eighty degree turn in mid-air, and after landing on all hooves, he happened to be facing Sartre's cavalry. After landing on the ground, the four hooves were facing Sutter's cavalry and launched an unstoppable and wild charge!
"AlanNure Skerritt!!!"
Although they could not hear themselves, but the marauders still used the wild war cry to lower the enemy's morale, the centaurs withdrew the huge composite longbow in their hands, and pulled out from their sides a rod of heavy javelins the thickness of a child's arm, and ruthlessly threw them at the half-human half-goat surrounded by three sides, a rod of powerful iron javelins, like a harsh lightning, tore through the dark night, penetrated the flesh and blood of Sartre, shattered their tendons and bones, blossoming in the darkness of the night with a bright blood flower!
These days there are no stirrups, and some backward clans don't even use a few straps to tie their legs to the belly of the horse to prevent them from falling. The terrifying force attached to the javelin directly knocked those half-human, half-goat from the back of the horse, rolled several times on the ground, directly fainted, and the unlucky ones were even trampled into bloody mud by the hooves of their own horses!
"Damn it! A speeding cavalryman can still steer like that?! This is simply cheating!!!"
Looking at the spinning and jumping, spinning in place, raging towards themselves to kill, the bard panicked and raised the pastoral flute in his hand, blowing out a seductive rhythmic sound, ready to tempt these powerful soldiers and stop the attack. But the ------ magical melody had no effect on these ear-blocked marauders, who continued to throw a terrifying iron javelin, preying on the fragile lives of their enemies!
Sutter was caught off guard, and quickly fell into the bloody quagmire of close combat, their delicate bodies, simply can not resist the strange force of the centaurs, gifted with the sound of the earplugs were also blocked, the battle took a sharp turn, and soon fell into a one-sided deadlock!
"Capture the live ones! We need to catch them alive for interrogation! You guys close your hands!" Looking at a gang of murderous marauders, pulled out the scimitar short dagger at the waist, with the help of the invincible force of the charge, on the bard's delicate body, slashing a wave of blood straight to the clouds, Pinehurst breathlessly roared loudly.
Hell, the men were wearing earplugs to counteract the bard's sonic magic and couldn't hear their own commands.
"All right, I'll catch it myself."
The pale centaur sighed and side-stepped a rampaging steed, a bewitchingly beautiful satyr girl, with her silver-furred, slender, athletic reverse-curved sheep hooves, clamping down on the back of a horse clad only in a layer of leather, her right hand playing with a sharp scimitar, slashing a hideous, terrifyingly large gap above the acting chief's invisible force field shield.
Pinehurst was not to be outdone, and in a moment when the two brushed past each other, a disembodied ghostly tentacle, also stretching its twisted and profane dark green body, quietly appeared on the left shoulder of the acting chief, which precisely cut through the belly of the war horse, into its body, injecting dark green ghoul poison.
The long bloodstain quickly rotted and pus, emitting a suffocating stench, the galloping war horse, stiffened, fell directly to the ground, throwing the bewitching half-human half-goat on his back, high into the sky, and then fell hard to the ground, raising a large cloud of dust.
"Ahem... ahem..."
The bard, who had broken several bones, struggled to get up from the ground and tried to grab the scimitar that had fallen aside, but a terrifying black figure, half man, half horse, quickly emerged from the dusty sky! The pale horse's hooves, trampled heavily on the hilt of the scimitar, a sharp spear reflecting the cold moonlight, also gently point at the bard, like a swan-like slender neck above.
"Hands in the air! Stop resisting!"
Looking at the wretched Sutter girl under her hooves, the seductive and demonic face, a look of despair emerged, trembling, raised her hands and gave up resistance. A confident smile emerged from the corner of Peinhus' mouth.
The language teacher was true to his word, and this common phrase was one of the first conversations one learned. It is indeed more commonly used for centaurs.
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Chapter 129: Communication Network Roads Across the Grasslands
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Cloaked in a cloak of black feathers, the head of the marauders, like a hideous falcon hidden in the night, weaving, wandering in the chaos of the edge of the battlefield, shooting a sharp feathered arrow, harvesting the lives of the enemy.
Soon, just as he shot through the throat of a third cavalryman, sending the half-man, half-goat coughing blood in pain and falling off his horse, the two Sats locked onto the sinister marauder leader.
The two of them looked at each other and nodded with a tacit understanding. Male Sartre warriors in leather armor, holding spears, killed Kulonia from the front, and the delicate body of the female bard, like a ghost, gradually disappeared into the night of battle, leaving a sturdy stallion empty, galloping and neighing on the battlefield.
"Hmm?"
Curonia raised an eyebrow as the sturdy steppe warhorse, lowering its slender neck to the height of its back, tried to minimize air resistance as it charged at full speed. The satyr warrior it carried, holding a three-meter-long flint lance in both hands, stabbed itself fiercely and unerringly in the throat!
The vicissitudes of the marauder leader's face emerged with a disdainful smile. He mouthed the words, his huge rough right hand waved gently, guiding countless green beams of vitality, instantly into the body of the war horse, the galloping steed, suddenly stiffened, can not do anything but breathe! The sturdy four hooves that turned into a stump, also stopped running, the huge body fell to the ground, more than 1,500 pounds of terrifying weight, directly crushed the left leg of the Sutter soldier.
"NO!!!"
For the sneaking effect, the bard, who had abandoned her warhorse and was walking on foot, came a step late. She looked at her partner, who had fallen to the ground and was wailing in pain, and let out an angry shrill whistle, appearing in her original form behind Curonia, with a fierce stomp of her small, delicate sheep's hooves, and her whole body rode directly on top of the brown horse of the head of the marauders.
"Damn it! The earplugs blocked the sound, but also greatly reduced my perception ability! In normal times, this stalking monster would have been discovered long ago!"
The bard did not say more, white and delicate right arm, deadlocked the throat of Kulonia, while the left hand played with a sharp iron dagger, viciously stabbed at the back of the enemy's heart.
"Newsflash!!!"
A huge black eagle hovering low in the sky, has long found the master's danger, as early as when the bard reveals the prototype, it will be in the air to spread its wings, like a dark meteor, ripped through the dim night sky, viciously smashed on the left arm of the left arm!
The sharp eagle claws, which penetrated Sutter's delicate bloody skin, precisely severed the tendons of her wrist, leaving it powerless to grasp the sharp dagger and harm its master.
The bard let out a painful cry of sorrow, the right arm gave up the locking throat at the same time, smoothly pulled out the other party's earplugs, the whole person deliberately fell off the horse, in the grass turned over a few circles, and a man and a hawk to re-distance, then, and pulled out the beloved pastoral flute from the waist, the delicate lips, and the blackened mouth of the flute, closer and closer.
But the predator leader was even faster! As soon as the opponent let go of his neck, he chanted a second spell, and the endless turquoise pasture grass turned into a wildly dancing pale green python, writhing, whirling, roaring and clawing to kill the bard.
Dozens of the thickest grazing grass, but also twisted their huge bodies, directly into the inside of Sutter's warm, moist mouth, and down her throat, roughly interrupting the other party's spellcasting chant.
The delicate throat, how can withstand the rough pasture grass of this kind of torture? The sickening feeling of revulsion kept coming up, the bard was tortured and fell to his knees, rolling his eyes in pain, not to mention fighting, even standing up became a luxury.
Take advantage of this opportunity, Curonia reversed the direction, raised his strong and slender hoof, control the force, precise trampling on the back of her white neck, the other two eyes rolled over, directly fainted.
"Whew - that was close, almost capsized in the gutter."
The head of the marauders breathed a long sigh of relief, intimately touched his black eagle, after wiping the cold sweat at the temples, skilfully cut the tendons of the hands and feet of the two Sats, after searching out all the weapons and equipment, tied tightly, across the pack on his back.
At the same time, the battle was completely over with that overwhelming advantage of the centaurs.
"Retreat, retreat! Return to the fortress before enemy reinforcements arrive! All the other clans are doing the tracking task, we're not the only one, and we've captured so many prisoners, there's enough to go back and torture them!" Peinhus removed his earplugs, and the sound of the breeze brushing across the grasslands once again resounded in his ears, and the world around him, clear again.
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While Sartre and the troll mercenaries were performing their task of harassing and holding back the main force of the council, the sea of wolves regrouped in the mountains! Horus led 10,000 veteran wolves who had spent half of their lives in the army, and more than 50,000 Gothic recruits who could both kill the enemy with bloodlust and take care of the food supplies, along the southern coast, and approached Diodosia in great numbers.
In the pale green wolf king's expectation, the centaur wanted to figure out what had happened, at least two days, to get rid of Sutter's harassment, it was even more difficult, the return journey, more desperately long.
One can definitely recover the kingdom's important granaries before their reinforcements arrive!
However, Horus never expected that after the return of the poet dead to the Council, the communication ability of the centaurs had made a qualitative leap, and Toria simply could not afford to send these hundreds of bards into battle and handed them a much easier and more important task - to act as signal base stations and communication towers.
Diodosia and the Yew of Skerritt are less than a hundred kilometers away, with an average of about ninety-three wooden sentry towers spread along the road. Each tower, with a flamboyant bard, is carefully protected in the center by dozens of heavily armored soldiers cloaked in armor.
They had long since comprehended the second ring magic [Wind Swift]. The low ranked poet-dead could probably spread the message a kilometer away, and the elite core members, could raise this distance to fifteen hundred meters, or even higher!
Just after the scouts brought back the news that the Wolf King soldiers were approaching Odosia, the poet-dead who remained in the city immediately mixed the message in a storm of magic and blew it to the nearest sentry tower. The poet-dead inside the sentry tower also cast [Wind Communication] and threw the message word for word to the second bard in the north, then the third, and the fourth ------ somewhat similar to a child's game of pass the word.
Terrifying news along the wooden tower of the Golden Crawler clan quickly transmitted to the north, a few hours later, the news that Horus soldiers are at the city, was blown by the gale to the council, the chiefs, scared face miserable!
"A massive army of werewolves has appeared in the rear! Suspected to be Gothic main force, return quickly!!!"
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Chapter 130: White Horse vs. Coyote (I)
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There was no way to hide such a large army of werewolves walking on the southern pasture of a blue field. The men and horses responsible for staying in Diodosia quickly sent a large number of elite scouts to harass and hold back the speed of Horus' march, while others took the opportunity to haul their livestock to the fortified city and stand by.
The council had long since thickened the width of the top of the wall by virtue of a large number of planks and pillars, and had built some huge ramps on the inside, barely allowing men and horses to walk up the wall and draw bows and shoot arrows from high above.
The whole regiment of men and horses gathered under the city wall, and under the guidance of their flying partners, they threw out a round of sharp arrow clusters that covered the sky, making the sky full of sharp arrows, accompanied by a chilling whistling sound, like pouring rain, falling on top of the black tide of wolves, splashing out a harsh wave of blood.
"The city walls can run horses okay."
Horus, momentarily speechless, temporarily stopped his charge and, with his men, quickly retreated beyond the firing range of the other side.
If you attacked directly and forcefully, it was possible for you to break through Diodosia's stone wall. But then, the army would definitely suffer heavy losses and sacrifice their precious troops for nothing.
Centaur main force is still in the north, the eastern Kerch peninsula and the mountains of green skin ------ So, the pale green wolf king chose to temporarily avoid the front, with another more secure way to fight.
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"What's going on, what's all the commotion outside?"
The Drow elves moved their graceful bodies and lazily got up from the bed, and casually put on a white sheepskin coat for their delicate and soft skin like black jade, and came outside the house in doubt.
Black and white strong color impact, lining her more and more beautiful, enchanting, a beautiful long silver hair, like countless soft willow branches, softly hanging to Henneville's smooth and delicate ankles near the wind gently swaying.
Centaurs are creatures that place a high value on education and knowledge transmission. The soldier was not happy with the dark-skinned elf, but she did teach the blood rage centaur a great deal of imperial general knowledge, with the cultural knowledge of the elves, and even taught a powerful pale warlock by hand, within the clan, and earned some respect.
"The werewolves are taking advantage of the army's northward movement to fight over!" A blood rage warrior, panicked, said. "Quick! Black Skin! Go to the walls to defend against the enemy, your magic is vital!"
"Wait, you said werewolves? The gang of Goth barbarians infected with the bestial plague?"
The Drow elves' sleepiness dissipated for the most part, and a bone-chilling chill ran up her smooth spine.
Hell, those Goths are veterans of naval warfare! Centaurs have no concept of naval warfare, but they have seen their offshore fleet with their own eyes when they fought under Quintuchus, and this is a harbor city ------
Thinking of this, Henneville hurriedly tore open an arbitrary door, teleported to the top of the house, and looked nervously to the south - as she expected, countless white sails, appeared at the end of the view of the sea and the sky, the deep and dim sea, floating hundreds of hard gothic wooden ships! On the tall masts hung a pale green hideous wolf flag!
"Quick! Get the Blood Rage soldiers back here! By the sea! The werewolves have attacked from the sea!!!" The Drow elves screamed in disbelief. "Get to the Wind Howler Clan and pull some elemental warlocks over here! Everyone will die if the port is lost!"
"I'm on my way!!!"
Looking at the blood fury messenger who scurried away, Henneville bit her delicate red lips, her own recent luck is really bad to the extreme, first by the bear goblins stuffed into the cold bone-chilling water tank, and then tied by the centaurs on top of the horse - does it mean that the next turn to the werewolf's iron cage ------
"Spider Goddess, please shelter your most devout people and stop playing with my destiny." The warlockess bowed her head slightly, temporarily hugged a spider leg, and with a small group of blood rage marauders, killed the noisy port.
---------- ------
Abaddon stood proudly on the bow of the Gothic flagship, listening to the sound of the surging tide, grinning his long, vicious black wolf's muzzle, revealing two rows of sharp fangs, from the depths of his throat, a low howl of a hideous, creepy wolf.
Fifty flat-bottomed warships, together with more than three hundred fishing boats, sailed from every city and port on the western coast, converged and assembled under the pale green wolf flag of Horus, and rushed into the southern coast of Gredinian.
This fleet, in total, carried three thousand bloodthirsty wolves, half of which were brothers and sisters who accompanied Horus in his birth and death, and the other half, were transformed lance forbidden guards and dueling warriors. They are clad in heavy armor, arm-bound shields, equipped with a large number of ultra-long spears and two-handed battle axes, some of them, even carrying a cross-wood crossbow of low poundage to make up for their long-range shortcomings.
According to the plan, the main force of Horus, will be held in the area of the walls of the city, their own elite to beyond the army, will land from the port, burn the city, create chaos, in the heart of the enemy, insert a sharp knife, inside and outside, to take back this rich and beautiful seaside city.
"Hey! Isn't that one of our countrymen? Centaurs actually have some unblessed Goths on their hands?" Halkon raised his sharp claws strangely and scratched his black fluff-covered face.
At the moment, there are a number of rudimentary fishing boats floating on the sea. The Goth slaves of the Blood Fury Clan, driving them to fish off the coast, are now scared half to death by the werewolves and are desperately fleeing towards the port.
"Humph! Those cowards, who have long succumbed to the hoofs of the enemy, leave them alone until the war is won. The victory of the war marshal, nay, of his majesty, cannot be postponed a single moment. Paddle at full speed! Those slaves, perhaps, will report our presence to their centaur masters!"
Abaddon gave the order arrogantly. The wolves in charge of paddling, more vigorously waving their hairy, thick arms, they opened their mouths wide, scarlet tongues with a ghostly frequency constantly twitching, ha breath. Let the dripping sweat, like a waterfall, gurgle down from a bloody mouth full of fangs.
"Dump the grease!"
But by this time, Henneville had also assembled enough warriors. During this time, the council slaughtered many chickens, ducks, pigs, geese that could not be grazed, the Goths also caught a large number of sea fish, and the grease reserves inside the city reached their peak. At this moment, they dumped these golden sticky liquid, inside the sea, and let the ebbing waves, rolled them away, and by the time the Abaddon fleet arrived, the sea water near the port, had put on a brand new garment of golden light.
Henneville grabbed a small sulphur ball from the package, the dark yellow sphere, in the dark smooth palm of the Drow elves shaking back and forth, suddenly floating out of thin air, burning a hot flame, the manic flame grew larger and larger, and finally swelled into a calf-sized dazzling sun, dragging a scorched black tail flame, in the floating greasy surface of the sea, exploded!
"BOOM!!!"
No one can describe the magnificent scenery except in front of the eyes. With a loud bang, the hot fireball exploded into a magnificent, stunningly beautiful to the extreme of the fire clouds, tyrannical shock wave, wrapped in countless stars of fire, like fireworks to spew in all directions. Instantly ignited the golden grease on the surface of the sea.
The blazing flames, like countless scarlet pythons, weaved and snaked their burning, blood-colored bodies on the surface of the sea. The monstrous flames, instantly covered the entire offshore!
The endless blaze rises to the sky, the black choking smoke rises to the clouds!
Several elemental warlocks from the wind howling clan, with their pupils reflecting the sky-rushing flames, were also shocked by the spectacular sea of fire in front of them, chanting words under their breath and using the power of arcane magic to create a tyrannical gale, driving the sky-rushing fire, and the grease floating on the waves, floating in the direction of the werewolf navy.
"This should hold them off for a while, to hold the port, I need more soldiers ------" the Drow elves rolled their eyes, suddenly thought of something, quickly rushed to a dilapidated house, slender fingers shot out a scorching fiery ray, terrifying high temperature, directly locking the door to the iron chain, melted The red-colored iron water slowly dripped on the earth.
Henneville pushed open the door, the sky-rushing fire, the dim hut, shining like daylight - here are countless wounded Gothic barbarians imprisoned. They are hands and feet are bound by hemp rope, can not move. Inside their mouths, they were also stuffed with leather, unable to emit a single note. The left side of everyone's face, with a sharp blade, was inscribed with a sacred double-ringed cross.
Asana and her punishment priest.
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