Chapter 156: Blood sacrifice to the Blood God
м.шanbentxt
A dripping poisonous slime, scarlet forked poisonous tongue, quietly poking out the faintly poisonous fierce dragon kiss of Mortarion, hissing in the air. The dragon is using another way, detecting the presence of prey. So as to cover the two horses and men with their own eerie dragon shadow that blinds the sky.
"Go through the rift and escape to the east, don't hesitate!"
Pinehurst quickly pulled out a small piece of muslin wrapped in soot from the package, and injected all the arcane energy flowing from his blood into it. A tiny grain of smoke and dust, but shimmering blue beautiful light, and the gauze also into a light breeze, will be those blue particles, into the air.
The pale centaur pressed Christina's shoulders and blew gently, countless shimmering blue smoke and dust, flying, jumping, spinning, covering the six limbs of the rouge blazing horse, so that her body, and weapons and armor, all turned into a vaporous breeze.
Watching the blood rage chief, who had turned into gas, easily escaped the prison of the trees through the gaps between the vines and branches, Pinehurst scrambled to grab a second piece of mist wrapped in smoke and dust and tried to change himself into the form of a vaporous gas as well.
But before his right hand could reach inside the package carrying the item in question, Mortarian had already locked on to his position, and thousands of vines blooming with snowy green flowers, like a deadly poisonous snake, snaked around his six limbs.
The pale centaur disdainfully glanced at the vines under his hooves. It's just a druid's [Entanglement], a few months ago, he was able to easily break free of this one-ring magic.
Thinking of this, Pinehurst tensed his muscles, trying to rely on the natural strength of the centaur, to break free from the green shackles on his body, get the spell cast items, and run away - but the seemingly fragile vines, but as if they were steel, but not moving!
"Why are you not moving? Come out quickly!" Outside the cage, Christina, who had reincarnated into a solid body, let out an anxious voice, in her eyes, the pale centaur was inexplicably frozen in place, unable to move - those indestructible vines that were like steel were all illusions implanted to him by the green dragon!
This is not the [Entanglement Technique], but the more profound [Monster Fixation Technique].
"Ho--"
Motarian straightened up his huge body, let out a low roar of annoyance, slender dragon tail, poking out of the cage, from inside the lush canopy, rolled up a dull expression of wood elves, the latter in the green dragon's intimidation, mute chanting of sacred incantations, so that a brilliant golden divine light, dispel away the shadows of death shrouded in the pupil outside.
"It's still useful to have a priest in captivity, I've decided, to cut you out of the dinner."
The green dragon opened the pupils of regained light, satisfied with the beauty of the forest of flowers, the two black holes on the side of the brain leather plate, but also listening to the sound of the breeze brushing through the green leaves of fondling.
Enjoyed enough, Motarian lowered his huge head, golden vertical pupils, like a mirror emitting endless malice, reflecting the other side of the cage, rouge horses, that panic anxious look.
"Congratulations, ruddy mare! You mole escaped my cage and regained your sweet freedom. As a reward, I allow you to be on the outside, picking at the turquoise shackles and witnessing how a noble green dragon, corrupts, and controls your ------ mate."
Looking at Christina's almost desperate and beautiful face, Mortarian narrowed his eyes in intoxication, seemingly deriving great joy from the pain of others and emitting a burst of arrogant mockery. The forked poisonous tongue, quietly wriggling in the dragon's kiss full of poison, whispered a blasphemous incantation in the ear of Peinhus.
"No! NO! NO!!!"
Christina desperately swung the sharp axe in her hand, frantically hacking and smashing the cage of trees, where the sharp axe blade came, the soft vines split in pieces, even the hard ancient wood, also by the rouge blazing horse cut out a shockingly huge crack. But the green dragon enjoyed playing with his enemy, between the two, breeding more thorny ancient trees
The time of the rage has long passed, but the blood rage chief, still with the cost of life, maintaining the blood rage until death. His breathing became more and more disordered, the two hearts under the high-intensity beating, but also emitted the sound of overwhelming wailing, rouge-colored delicate skin, oozing not sweat, but a drop of sticky blood.
---------- ------
"Look what your devotees have done! Our careful planning is almost completely ruined by that dragon!"
"Then change a pawn. The crown we forged together has changed hands several times, Cyrus, Tomiris ------ he is not the first, nor will he be the last. But the most important thing is that I believers happy."
"Just throw a blessing at him. It's one of the easiest and most effective means to get him to accept our deal in desperation."
"The distance we are from that world can no longer be described as [far]! If I could give a blessing to the beings of that world at will, how would I need such a complicated and elaborate plan?"
"Forget it, you guys are a bunch of losers! When it matters, it's up to me! As early as several years ago, I have blessed her bloodline at an extremely high cost, spending several years of light and time, only, that guy has been resisting at heart. Now it's time to ------"
The whispers in the void, gradually dissipated. Christina once again raised her two-handed battle axe, high above her head, and suddenly, in a trance, she saw a blood-colored phantom. Thousands of human and goblin corpses, the silvery winter night, dyed into a shocking face of blood, bloody skeleton banner, under the siege of hundreds and thousands of earth goblins, and countless goblin cannon fodder, wavering.
The clan suffered heavy casualties, and the blood rage chief of the year, also fell in a round of javelin fire, just then, a not yet adult, carmine colored pony, gathered the remaining clan members, launched a deadly counterattack.
Christina recognized the boyish face that was her mother's as a young girl - a little green, but the steely gaze that burned with roaring anger, but always remained calm, never changed.
The blood rage of the deadly rage - that is the blessing, but also the curse of the heavenly blood mist, for the first time in this world burned. The young Anna wielded a huge axe that did not match her size, behind her was a rain of arrows that covered the sky, flanked by the heavily armored and fearless who gave their lives to protect her.
She was like a childish god of death, and killed the Earth Elf war gang that was standing by!
Horses and men fighting to the death, the sound of crazy battle roar, arrow rain blinding the sky, the mournful whistling, goblins do not dare to believe, the screams of fear blended together, straight to the clouds!
The axe, burning with blood rage, cut off one ugly head of earth goblin after another, and with each enemy beheaded, the wound on Anna's body would disappear and the force with which she wielded the huge axe would increase by one more point! The blood painted her body all over into the appearance of hell!
In the end, when Anna trampled on thousands of corpses, left hand holding a bloody banner full of heads, right hand wielding a huge axe that is difficult to control with normal hands, rushed to the hostile chief, the monster in heavy armor, has been in shock and despair, by the young figure scared out of his heart!
And the remaining men and horses, even more fearful, kneeling under her hooves, respecting this not-yet-adult mare, as the new chief.
"Behold, Christina, this is the power your mother once possessed. Skerrit has long since fallen, and your race has lost the shelter of the gods, yet you still turn towards a corpse and pray uselessly. Come, give up your ridiculous faith, turn around, and embrace my endless glory."
The horrific sound effects, full of bloody killing intent, sounded back and forth in the ears of the rouge blazing horse.
---------- ------
"BOOM!!!"
Motarian narrowed his eyes in surprise, corrupting others is a long, and boring process, to pass the time, he used the incompetent rage rouge horse, as a good pastime, the
Just when the green-scaled evil dragon was still amazed at why Christina raised her huge axe for the sixty-fourth time, but delayed in bringing it down, suddenly, an even denser blood-colored mist erupted with the Blood Rage Chief as the core! The axe, entwined with thousands of blood smoke, cut a bloody arc in the air, cutting a huge crack in his turquoise cage!
PS: Christina character card began to modify, in addition to the main character, everyone has a special change when I will modify their character card.
Chapter 157: Cranial dedication cranial seat
м.шanbentxt
"Get her." Deep in his throat, Mortarion let out a low growl of contempt, he was corrupting and controlling the pale centaur's mind, and could not spare any extra energy to deal with the red mare, so he ordered the fourteen wood elves, who kept playing background music, to pull out their weapons behind them.
Well - the entertainment to pass the time has changed from tragedy to fight drama.
The classical elven music came to a screeching halt as the seven wood elves pulled out the short bows on their backs, clusters of arrows forged from the teeth of predators, and pointed them straight at the distant, bloodied men and horses.
Seven other athletic elves, dumbfounded, rushed in Christina's direction, calloused hands, playing with a pair of long, yet sharp, monster fangs.
The furious carmine horse, slightly dropping its head to protect its vulnerable neck and face, took the first round of white bone arrows by virtue of the double armor on its body. These primitive and crude killing tools seem to have a terrifying power that does not match their rudimentary craftsmanship.
Two sharp arrows, whistling past the lioness's head, two sharp arrows, on the chest iron cast chainmail shirt, striking a group of bright sparks, the last three sharp arrows, after shooting through the golden fur of the Chimera, also became the end of the strong, barely pierced her carmine arms.
"Three people on the front and two on each side."
Christina looked around at the elves, as if rubies like bright beautiful pupils, flashing endless bloodthirsty killing intent, the right hand to the speed of lightning, pulling out a good string of heavy crossbow, sharp arrows, pointed directly at the enemy's dull face.
A powerful crossbow arrow, straight through the wood elf's forehead, crimson blood. Mixed with sticky brains, wrapped in large and small flesh and bone fragments, in the air blooming two fleeting waves of misery.
The chief of the blood rage quickly retrieved Pinehurst's own improved heavy crossbow, only to see her long and beautiful hooves, a fierce stomp on the ground, carmine elegant body, instantly scampered high into the sky, like a blood-colored meteor, viciously smashed into the elf in front of her, so that her black hard hoof, in the eyes of the green dragon puppet, bigger and bigger!
As she swooped, the raging wind whistled through the broken holes in Chimera's three skulls, and the tiny cracks in her wing membranes, as if a hundred banshees were in the air at the same time, emitting a harsh, ear-splitting wail of horror! The terrifying storm, by the way, raised the pair of pale gold flesh wings high, as if she had really grown a pair of huge pale gold bat wings.
"Pfft-"
Christina landed heavily on the top of the elf's head. Fragile cervical vertebrae, simply can not withstand the more than two thousand pounds of pang mares, the terrifying pressure from the sky, instantly by the blood rage chief, trampled into countless pieces of fragmented debris!
The dull, beautiful head, after losing the support of the cervical vertebrae, was trampled alive into the interior of her own body by the horse's hooves, propping up a good-sized mountain range on the elf's flat, slim chest. Numerous brilliant waves of blood also painted the pale golden Chimera leather armor a hideous and horrible scarlet color.
Christina, who was bathed in blood, became more and more beautiful and insane. She trampled on the corpses of her enemies and let out an unbeatable maniacal laugh! The heavy axe blade, cutting a demonic blood-colored arc in the air, cut down the last elf's head with precision.
In an instant, the three wood elves who were facing the enemy fell in a pool of scarlet blood. The rouge horse protects her face and neck, and is ready for the second wave of arrows from the far side - she doesn't care about these arrows, and immediately swings her axe and kills the elves on both flanks!
"Boom!"
See the scarlet demon, raised high in the hands of the blood-drinking crimson battle axe, the right wing of the wood elf, raised two half-foot-long monster fangs, trying to block the swift slash. Even by the green dragon corrupted, enslaved, he reflected a blush of blood dull pupils, also emerged from the ripples called "fear".
The axe blade entwined with thousands of blood mist, instantly shredded the sharp edge of the bone, landed heavily on the shoulder of the predator, Christina wrist slightly deflected, and a beautiful head, forever left her like a swan as elegant and slender, constantly gushing blood white neck.
"Pfft."
The second wood elf, taking advantage of the gap in the collection of axes by the men and horses, used a pair of beastly fangs to tear and penetrate the arms of the blood rage chief. The marauders, who had meandered back to the left, hurried behind Christina and raised their sharp blades high in their hands, and the distant archers, moreover, sent a third round of sharp arrow clusters into the blood and flesh inside the rouge blazing horse.
"ROAR!!!"
** The pain, which made the rouge blazing horse turn more and more frenzied, she shifted the weight of her body, forward, wearing the chimera leather armor, the forehead of that lioness skull, smashing hard on top of the elf's towering nose. Forcing back the enemy in front of her.
At the same time, the two hind hooves, which slowly turned black, suddenly curled up into the belly of the horse and popped out like a siege hammer! Directly in the flat chest of an elf, smashed two huge dents! The unlucky child cut a harsh line of blood in the air and fell heavily on top of the trunk of an ancient tree.
Thousands of young leaves, under this violent impact, have broken away from the brown treetops, like a green snow, rotating their light bodies in the air, slowly descending, will lose his life skeleton, cover, buried.
Along with the death of the elf, the wounds on Christina's arm, are healing rapidly at a rate visible to the naked eye.
"NO!!!" Mortarion let out an angry roar.
If you say that the raw mung bean sprouts, is a well-cared for live fish sashimi, then turned into corpses, not fresh wood elves, the taste is like a certain country looking up at the stars. Eat the taste, it is simply a world of difference!
He deliberately enslaved and captivated a whole village of wood elves, forcing them to keep reproducing so as to obtain a constant supply of beautiful food, but now he was killed by that damned mare, so many in one breath?
Each wood elf, can be their most valuable property!
Thousands of flowers and thorny vines, this time really will pale centaur, tied a knot. After ensuring that the prey in hand, will not escape, the angry green scaled evil dragon, with the shadow of extinction, personally joined the battlefield. The claws dripping with venom, like an anaconda that chooses people to devour, and the axe entwined with scarlet blood mist, collided for the second time!
However, this time, the divine grace of Christina, not repelled by the brute force of the dragon, sharp axe blade, rubbing the bone white claws, continued to swing down, splitting the fine scales of Motarian's fingers, deep into his flesh and blood.
However, this small wound, for the huge size of the adult dragon, is not worth mentioning. The green dragon's wounded left claw, fierce grip, as if a strong iron pliers, firmly grasp the human body of the rouge horse, the right claw aimed at the four hooves of the blood rage chief, grazing the ground a horizontal sweep, directly her half-human, half-horse body, knocked over on the ground.
The two long and sturdy dragon claws, plus the strength and weight of the adult dragon, deadlocked Christina's six limbs. Like a huge brown bear, a newborn lamb, pressed tightly in a sea of snowy blue flowers.
"Is that the limit of your divine grace? Come on, you're all usable pawns at the moment, don't force me to kill." Mortarion mocked the unsuspecting mare under his paws. Suddenly, a familiar wave of arcane magic came from behind his voice. The green dragon flexed his slender neck - a dark silhouette was reflected in his evil vertical pupils.
Henneville did not escape with the help of the arbitrary door. Instead, she teleported herself to another corner of the turquoise cage. While the deaf and blind Motarian, not yet healed, cast a spell to hide the body, quietly waiting for the time. In the lavender eyes, the once round pupils, now as narrow and sharp as a snake's pupil.
A thorny vine, in the wave of arcane lost its former vitality, have fallen down, a head wearing a golden crown of pale centaurs, free from the double shackles of the dragon, two eerie and horrifying blood-colored tentacles, scampered out of Pinehurst's shoulders, to Motarian, open teeth and claws.
Chapter 158: Unexpected reinforcements
м.шanbentxt
Henneville's situation seems to be a little off, dripping with sweat, wetting the silver hair that reaches the naked feet. Her red lips clenched, seems to be suffering great pain, the graceful body seems to be watching a pair of invisible hands, desperately pulling, all body bones snapping, lavender vertical pupils, also flashing with a demonic light.
The actual a lot of people are not only the most effective and most effective, but also the most effective. The female warlock's bloodthirsty **, became more and more tall, the support of the woolen shirt upward lift, cracked out of the stripes, exposed her smooth and delicate waist. A pair of dark and round thighs, also become more slender, slender.
The original only pale centaur chest height of the Drow elves, turning eyes, has touched the neck of Pinehurst. The pitch-black scales with a deep purple hue quickly crawled up Henneville's arm and disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"Since Ptolemy, my bloodline has undergone several generations of dilution, and the blood of the deep dragon flowing in my body is insignificant. But ------ after several years of effort, I still managed to awaken it."
Henneville, who had broken free from the shackles of her bloodline and was overflowing with arcane energy, gently lifted her dark, delicate jaw.
"Don't get me wrong, I didn't stay on purpose to save my students. I can't go back to Egypt anyway, and if I want to get away with it in a society of centaurs, I must have you on top to cover it.
Suppose you both fold here, then the already turbulent Blood Rage clan. In an instant, it will fall apart, and then be annexed by other clans, in which case, my good days will come to an end - understand, everything I do is for my own sake."
"Well, well, I know, dear teacher." Peinhus raised the corners of his mouth slightly and spat out the creepy purgatory words that Mortarion could not understand. "Use the second plan."
"Whew--"
A dragon's tail covered with emerald green scales, with the pressure of 10,000 pounds of wind, wrapped in a sky of broken snow green petals, whistling towards the two warlocks, in front of the two, the invisible invisible force field above, draw a terrifying crack.
Henneville's long, black hands were suddenly covered by a layer of black scales that shone with a dark purple hue, blocking the side of Pinehurst. In the mage armor shattered at the same time, hard to resist the fierce unparalleled tail!
Although the two were swept away by the dragon, but did not suffer too serious injury. Two ghostly tentacles entwined with crimson blood mist, instead, took the opportunity to wrap around the fierce green whip, ignoring the heavy armor, bloody siphoning claws, deep inside the dragon's tail, greedily sucking the flesh and blood of Mortarion.
The pale centaur who was first to fall to the ground and acted as a meat cushion for the drell, almost instantly, recovered from the bruises on his body.
The green-scaled evil dragon's plan is very pure, when he was a child, just expelled from the dragon's nest, young and vigorous, with a group of Germanic war gang, plundering everywhere along the Danube, only to be the first Maximian legion, knot beaten.
Although he escaped under the shelter of his loving father, but the course of the battle, himself probably, as if, perhaps a mouthful of dragon's breath, the only son of a nobleman gilded in the army, corroded into a moribund white bones, from then on, with a handful of noble families.
The heartbroken human who lost his son, spared no expense, hired a large number of adventurers, foreign mercenaries, and even mages clad in red robes, constantly tracking his figure, whisked Motarian, constantly fleeing to the depths of the Sea of Grass. Finally arrived at this warm peninsula.
As the true master of the Gredinian darkness, the green-scaled evil dragon with the shadow of his childhood, fears to be found by those red-robeds again. Therefore, controlling the local rotten-scaled lizardmen, garrisoning and hiding his dragon nest.
However, those guys were poorly equipped and primitive in consciousness. In several battles, they were killed by the humans who came south, routed and even expelled from the peninsula. And at that time, the Gothic Kingdom was led by two legends. The wolves howled in the sky, and the lances were like forests. The army was even mixed with some familiar figures holding up double-ringed crosses and spreading doctrine.
As a dragon, Mortarion can not distinguish the subtle differences between human species, he thought those damn red robe, again to find him, a time, simply did not dare to act rashly, had to secretly find a new puppet, hide, garrison his dragon nest.
And the best choice he had in mind was the Council of Centaurs currently galloping through Gredinian. These two centaurs cannot die, but that dark-skinned elf ------ is as good as random.
The thought of this, Motarian that filled with hatred of the vertical pupils, fierce glare at the mare under the claws. All of a sudden, Christina felt herself falling into the deep sea that even the sun could not touch, the fishy salty seawater, filled her lungs, heavy water pressure, so that they could not move a finger, scarlet pupils, can only see a dark.
"Coming back to save the day? What a noble gesture, as a predatory centaur, and a villainous dracon, you two acted in a way that was greatly unexpected." The green dragon nudged the rouge blazing horse that was frozen in place. Placing the controlled Blood Fury Chief, in a conspicuous position, the sharp claws of the dragon, rested gently on the tip of her towering nose.
Although it can be grabbed and moved, but grabbing a horse weighing a ton of people is really time-consuming and laborious.
"The life and death of your mate depends on your answer, pale horse. My promise still stands, become my slave and I will give you the [power] to defeat the Golden Crawler clan. Otherwise, this rouge colored mole will shed the last drop of blood in her body in front of you."
Mortarion looked down arrogantly at the warlock in front of him, expecting exactly what his opponent would choose.
"I thought the dragon is a creature full of glory, you do this is also too despicable!" Pinehurst angrily drew the sharp axe at his side, but fearing for the safety of his lover, he did not dare to go forward, with every pale hair on his body, trembling gently.
This green dragon has the absolute upper hand, compared to the two warlocks, and even more overwhelming power, but Motarian chose to do what normally only desperate robbers, would do?
"Don't answer questions with questions."
Mortarion's claws, dripping with venom, cut a shallow bloody scar on Christina's left hand, and the flesh around the crack was eroded into dark green rotting flesh at a rate visible to the naked eye.
"Answer me one question and I'll agree, how about that?"
The pale centaur drops the sharp axe in his hand and raises his hands high, signaling that he is unarmed. Assume a pose of surrender.
"Tell me about it."
The green-scaled evil dragon came to be interested and gestured for the other party to continue.
"After we entered the forest, every move was watched by you, so why didn't you see what the hellhounds I summoned did in the meantime? Does it mean that you are unable to use two minds in battle?"
Mortarion's golden vertical pupils widened in shock. He was so engrossed in this interesting game that he did forget to monitor the forest, and the beast, covered in fire, had set fire to his lovely garden, and the scattered men and horses, by virtue of the scarlet fire, and the blackened smoke, were gathering frantically towards it!
No, what's with this number of people and horses? They should only have four horses! And those little birds who can only count to eight, trembling, tell themselves that the number of people and horses ------ is too many to count?
"AlanNure Sandra!!!"
Hundreds of sturdy horses with tense muscles, lightly crossed the thorns in the forest, accompanied by the deafening sound of thunder-like string shock, shot a wave of dense iron feathered vectors towards the green dragon, on top of the emerald green scales, tinkling.
Covered with muscles, piled up like a small mountain, the Thunder Spear centaurs, led by Chief Sandra, rushed out of the forest sea. These well-trained warriors, like a killing machine that knows no fear, not one of them, was affected by Mortarian's hideous and gruesome dragon might.
The druids tore through the turquoise prison so that a squad of elite men in heavy armor, armed with mounted rifles, under the cover of roaring arrows and javelins, launched a deadly charge toward Mortarion!
"I know that we all look at each other badly on a regular basis, do not get along well, customs and habits are very different, so that our warriors, with all kinds of friction tension - even so, blood fury, thunder spear, we still fight for the same goal, and side by side brothers and sisters. "
Chief Sandra, in iron armor, blossomed into a friendly smile for Peinhus.
"May the kingdom we forged together endure forever."
Chapter 159: Suspicion and shadow
м.шanbentxt
A supreme arcane pulse, gathered in Henneville's dark fingertips, like a meteor streaked through the dense forest, penetrating Motarian's fingers and hitting the carmine horse's delicate body with precision, disarming the green-scaled evil dragon.
At the same time, a ghostly bone claw constructed by arcane, emitting a faint luminescence, also squirmed its slender abominable body, gently touching the shoulder of the blood rage chief, so that her blood-soaked rouge body, into a scarlet breeze, escaped the dragon claw suppression.
"Cover Chief Bloodrage!"
Sandra roared forward, with the speed of the horse, threw a blue throwing spear at the green dragon - the thing just left his hand in the instant, along with a deafening thunder boom, into a beam of sparking purple electricity, hit the Motarian's right claw with precision.
The instant the current collided with the dragon claw, it quickly collapsed and disintegrated into hundreds of tiny thunderbolts, winding around countless pieces of emerald green dragon scales, crackling.
"ROAR!!!"
Mortarion let out an angry roar as more and more arrows and javelins, scuffing his carefully maintained scales, a small group of warriors who weren't afraid to die, even flattened their mounted guns and increased their speed to the peak! slammed hard into their hind claws.
The behemoth, weighing a ton, unleashed all the terrifying east reins generated by his Mercedes-Benz on top of the sharp spear tip, instantly chiseling through the solid green scales. A hit, the thunder spear warrior threw away the broken gun barrel, wildly pulled out the waist longsword, under the support of the arrow rain, leaving a white mark on the dragon scales.
The green-scaled evil dragon twisted his massive body and let out a manic roar of rage. Magnus, that little devil had called for far more reinforcements! The marauder, clad in eagle feathers, had spotted the Wood Elf's village deep in the Sea of Flowers and had sent a second signal!
These mole crickets understand that they can monitor the entire forest, so they deliberately plunder and sweep their farms to force themselves back to help!
Wait, there's more, the grassland raised an abnormal amount of sand and dust, accompanied by trembling earth, and some huge and ugly hill giants, accompanied by two waves of human iron horses, ran to the edge of the forest!
Although Motarian was strong, he was not sure that he could defeat so many crickets at the same time. Otherwise, he would have air raided Skerritt's Yew and corrupted the inhabitants there. Instead of playing a beast, sneaking up on the logging crew and using the hunting tradition of the centaurs to lure a few chiefs into a trap.
"We will meet again - and then you will prostrate yourself under my paws and cry for my strength, I swear, pale horse."
The ancient trees and thorns everywhere, once again came to life, turning into a giant wall through the sky, dividing the green dragon and the centaur. The vaulted canopy of trees that covered the sky, blended with the emerald green dragon scales, almost indistinguishable, the last thing Peinhus saw was Mortarion, the golden vertical pupils full of malice.
---------- ------
Under the cover of the hill giants, the men and horses quickly withdrew to Skerritt's Yew, immediately upgrading the castle defense by several times, and countless elite bows were not leaving their hands, vigilantly staring at the western sky. The three tribal chiefs, on the other hand, held a secret meeting in a hidden corner.
"Are you saying ------ that green dragon knows our most hidden secret?" Chief Sandra, whose muscles were almost piled into a small mountain, used his skull to hold a bowl of beans, and his sturdy, masculine hands, skillfully rubbed down the skin of the soybeans.
"Yes, Chief Sandra, you weren't there to know the horror of the time - that green dragon recognized two clan chiefs directly, and even knew the prophecy that had been passed down from generation to generation in Clan Deadbone! It was as if that horrible monster, had been lurking between us! Abhors ------ your Deadbone Druids, would be would be corrupted and controlled by that dragon, just like those wood elves."
"Impossible! This is never possible! My clan didn't even pass through this forest when they moved south! There's no way they would be controlled by a green dragon!" Chief Deadbone denied it, tangled and scratching his long light green hair with such force that he even scratched his scalp, crimson blood, slowly dripping down his clean face.
"Ah, you mean the pale steed, the harbinger of coronation as king? The divinely chosen descendant took this prophecy and used it as a capital to show off and rule, spreading it freely within the clans she wanted to draw in and control. It is not at all surprising that the Green Dragon knows this."
After rubbing off the soybean skin of a skull, Chief Thunder Spear began to crush those white gadgets, into powder form.
Wait, no passing near the forest!
Painehurst caught the clue that Mortarion's massive size, if he did fly out of the forest, would surely be witnessed by the nearby Goths, or monster tribes.
But ------ for a long time, no one knew of his existence, then, just check carefully, which clans, through that forest.
Thinking of this, Pinehurst made an excuse and left the meeting, excellent dim vision, allowing him to easily distinguish the surrounding scenery, and hurriedly walked towards the camp of the black fangs, a ghastly and horrifying, all black, sturdy men and horses, bowing their heads to him.
"Sigrid!" The pale centaur pulled away from one of the largest black tents to the tent of the leader of these executioners - heck, the ninny had decorated her tent, luxuriously enough, with hideous skulls of various monsters, fine wooden carvings, trinkets of gold, and coins plundered by the black fangs from various civilizations, piled up in the corners of the tent
The little black-fanged chief, like a greedy young dragon, lay in the middle of her treasure, holding a lovely lamb and whirring.
"Hmm? Chief? Are you playing a night raid?"
Sigrid rubbed her dazed sleepy eyes, and the lamb in her arms, also woken up by the pale centaur, bleated a few times in discontent.
"I don't have time to fool around with you. Give an order to the black fangs scattered among the other clans to poke around within the clans to find out which clan is camped in the forest, west of the fortress, on their way south?"
"Oh, got it."
The young junior centurion gave a big yawn. Regretfully, he got dressed. "I'll go and arrange it now."
---------- ------
A few days later, Pinehurst was once again awakened from Christina's soft embrace by the earth-shattering sound of the Thunder Spear Clan's morning exercises, and helplessly covered his ears. The relationship between the two clans, which had slightly eased because of the combined efforts against the enemy, had once again dropped to its original point.
"Chief? Chief!"
Suddenly, outside the tent came Sigrid's meta voice, and the two hastily dressed and began their day's work. Young and tender, but can order hundreds of executioners of the little girl, for the pale centaur to offer the black fang intelligence.
No clan, in the process of moving south, passed through that sea of secluded forest and flowers.
Well, the answer is obvious - there are only two clans that are not receiving new members. It was impossible to plant spies of the Black Fang. Tasmar tamed too many gnome servants, they do not have surplus livestock, food. The other ------ is the Gold Crawler clan, which controls tens of thousands of strings and has an over-saturated population.
PS: Henneville's character card has been modified and strengthened.
Chapter 160: Anna's eldest daughter
м.шanbentxt
"Could it be that the Tasmar clan has long been corrupted by green dragons? They have a lot of elves in captivity ------ those long ears are probably all under the green-scaled evil dragon - by the way, you left out the sacred fire that has been exterminated, look on the bright side, maybe that madman Kaan was manipulated by the dragon to declare war on the council brazenly."
Christina was talking with Peinhers while making a unique battle flag, and the daily arrow consumption of the centaurs was incredibly high. If all the work of making arrows was put on the head of the craftsmen, they would not have to do any other work all day long.
This leads to basic woodworking training for every horse and man as a child, and all people are both cavalrymen and herders, but also have some basic woodworking skills. Of course, it is still no match for a full time craftsman like Falling Hammer.
"No, Chief An Ran's male pets, all of whom are high elves, are still somewhat different from wood elves. The elven maid she gave to Henneville, there is no sign of magic manipulation on her body either. As for the extinct sacred fire ------ he doesn't know you at all, when we first met, I cut him down, it doesn't make sense, it doesn't make sense."
Painehus scratched his silver hair frantically. The Golden Crawler clan, already too powerful to fight, and their chief, likely corrupted by a malevolent dragon.
This situation couldn't be worse.
---------- ------
"Da, da, da."
With the sound of crisp and pleasant hoofbeats, a small and lovely dark figure, bathed in the golden sunrise, slowly approached towards Skerritt's Yew. Christian looked around in amazement - in just a few days, the place had been well taken care of by Peinhers. The whole fortress, all a thriving and beautiful look.
The vast abandoned farmland was reclaimed and cultivated by the savage hoofed people and horses. Countless brothers and sisters, with the assistance of Caucasian dogs and dark falcons, grazed the fat cattle and sheep in the middle of a blue sea of grass.
Several newly built fishing boats, also under the helm of the Gothic barbarians, slowly sailed out of the humble harbor, towards the deep blue sea, casting a large sturdy net, with a boatload of fish, shrimp, crab and mussels, full of return.
Centaur has put its roots deep in the land called "Gredinian".
"That kid over there! Stop! Which clan are you from? We've never seen you before!"
The bard was looking out, when suddenly, two scouts with bloody skull flags, wielding long-handled battle axes, rushed out of the patrol and quickly stopped in front of Christian.
These two scouts, from the Barbarian Hoof clan, did not know the twin sisters of Chief Bloodrage. They knew very well that the only reason the Council of Nine did not start a civil war was that the terrible threat from the werewolves in the west was far greater than the divide and hatred between them.
So, when they found a strange dark horse, became unusually alert - even if the other party looks like a child.
The scout looked at the "child" in front of him. Her soft, flowing black hair, from high to low, slowly transitioned to pure silver. The human skin, which was blown out, was a rare bronze color. Light brown waves of curly hair, in the breeze gently raised, as if a wave of different colors.
The two waves of snowy peaks, and the Ying Ying a thin waist, but also formed an extremely sharp contrast.
"This kid ------ is so big."
The scout whistled a frivolous whistle. This little pony will surely be a beauty when it grows up. However, it looks too slender and thin now.
Centaurs and human aesthetics, probably only in the mammalian organs to reach a consensus, otherwise, centaurs are to the sturdy muscles, with a large body as the beauty - except for the Thunder Spear clan, those muscle sister expensive aesthetic, too much.
"Wait - she's not a child!" The other scout, nervously, gripped the axe handle. Long, curly, light brown hair gently brushed her bronze, delicate cheeks. A pair of ruby-like bright, beautiful pupils emitted a mature charm.
"My God, it's the first time I've seen such a short guy!"
The scout who was fawning over Christian instantly changed back to a serious face. Carefully surveyed the other party's weaponry.
The bard was draped in a sleeveless chainmail shirt, which could have covered her abdomen, and after covering the two towering snow peaks, even her belly button, could not be covered. The swan-like slender and delicate neck, tied with a cloak shining with bright stars, slender hands, holding a small kite shield, and a single-handed war hammer with a cold light.
Latest Chapter
Go to
Finish,
This, the
God, the
station, the
The ultimate want - she carries a crossbow on her back - an extremely cumbersome thing to load, which simply cannot take the place of the longbow in centaur society, and is currently only used occasionally by the goblins and elves of Tasmar, and the gothic humans of the Bloodrage clan.
"Ah la, if it isn't Christian."
As the scouts questioned the bard, suddenly a familiar figure, slowly approaching the crowd - he was clad in iron cast lockets. Wide shoulders, draped with a huge bear skin, full of grooves of the vicissitudes of the face, covered with the gruesome wounds left by war.
Christian remembered this face, Charlaton, who was also considered a veteran of the Blood Rage, following his mother's side in the war in the north and south. Now, with a martial arts bravery, mixed into one of the clan's twelve hundred households.
"What? Seeing the end of the war between the centaurs and the werewolves, hiding outside, shivering, the eldest daughter of Anna finally dares to come back between us? You cowardly dwarf! How beautiful and brave is the Chief Anna I follow! How did she come to have you as her daughter!"
Charlaton let out a resentful roar, as if the perfect incarnation in his heart, by the centaur in front of him, completely defiled.
"Come, come, come! Come and see for yourselves, this is our chief's real sister! Christian! This one was born a dwarf, not even as strong as some ponies, and her oversized breasts, while looking beautiful, prevent her from using a longbow!
Far and near can not, this one in the war, almost a waste! Well become a spell caster, spell bit most of the auxiliary type, the combat ability is terribly weak!
If her sister hadn't been the chief, she would have been expelled from the clan and starved to death. Or, by some big, strong, warlike stallion, kept in a tent for life - ah, I'm afraid no clan member would look at such a weak thing!"
"I am sorry, and I offer my deepest apologies for missing that war and not fighting alongside you."
Faced with the sneering eyes of the crowd, and the familiar sound of ridicule. Christian slowly lowered his proud head and apologized for missing a battle.
And when she looked up again, bloodshot pupils, burning up years of resentment flame, full of negative emotions of the evil flame, will be reflected in her pupil inside the Charlatan, burned up.
"Pfft!"
In the midst of the roaring laughter, every hair on Christiane's body was trembling gently from humiliation. She drew a heavy crossbow from the arrow bag and threw it fiercely under Charlatan's hooves in front of countless pairs of despising eyes. The beautiful face was completely distorted by anger and hatred.
"Silence! You scum! According to the regulations issued by the acting chief. Only the strong are worthy to possess gold and silver wealth and to rule the entire tribe!
So, blood rage Hyakuto: Charlaton! Me! Anna's eldest daughter! The blackened nightmare! The bard! The true heir to the Bloodrage clan: Christian! Challenge your status, your wealth, everything you have!
Listen up! Old thing! This duel will inevitably see one man, under the impartial gaze of Skerritt, shed his last drop of blood!"
Charlaton looked at the dwarf in front of him with surprise, gently bent his horse's hoof, picked up the crossbow on the ground, and agreed to the other's call.
"Christian - you have lived safely to this day, simply because you hid under the belly of your mother, your sister's horse. Lived on. But now, well, you dwarf does not know how to live, and you dare to challenge me? Long before you were born, I fought for your mother and for the whole clan! Every inch of my scars is a testament to my glory!"
Charlaton stroked the scars on his face, his angry expression, slowly tending to calm. "Very well, I will cut open your disabled body and drain the last drop of blood from your body under the watchful eyes of Skerritt. Even if your sister herself is present, she will not be able to interfere with this sacred duel! Dwarf!"
Hearing Charlaton's bloodthirsty words, the corners of Christian's crimson mouth, raised an arrogant arc.
Under the wholehearted forging of Pinehurst, I have a heavy crossbow that can attack at long range.
Under the tireless teaching of the poet-dead, I learned the bardic way of fighting.
Under the generous and benevolent bounty of Chief Gold Crawler, I was draped with three pieces of terrifying magical equipment.
The old thing that revels in the old glory, my strength, long ago, is not what it used to be, now Christian, worthy of my mother's mighty name!!!
---------- ------
"As a testament to my generosity and kindness, Christian of the Bloodrage Clan. I allow you to pick three magical items from my treasure trove. Don't worry, according to the contract, I promise not to harm your sister, and Pinehurst's life, and when the dust settles, Anna's eldest daughter - you, will take back the position that was originally yours! You will be the next, Chief Bloodrage."
Looking at the bard, who was scowling, the bedridden, pale descendant of the chosen one, revealed a mysterious and inscrutable smile, the
"May the friendship between the Golden Crawler and Blood Rage clans endure for all generations."
"I am very weak in strength and physically unable to match my other brothers and sisters. Therefore, I need a light weapon that can break armor, and armor that can protect myself, a shield - remember your promise, Toria, and may the friendship between the two clans, the Golden Crawlers and the Blood Fury, endure for all time."
---------- ------