Chapter 161: Christian (above)
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Charlaton quickly drew the bow behind him, scarred and calloused hands, and pulled the huge composite longbow into a perfect full moon, shooting a sharp iron arrow up toward the sky.
Immediately after, his right hand, with a speed that Christian could not catch, pulled out a second iron-cast feathered arrow from the arrow bag carried on his back shoulder, with a cold glowing arrow cluster, pointing straight at Christian's throat!
When the second arrow, tearing through the damp warm air, cut a harsh curve in the air and struck the bard's neck, the first feathered arrow, which had shot straight up into the sky, also fell downwards, turning into a meteor of steel, accompanied by a harsh and piercing whistling sound, falling from the vault of the sky! Precisely smashed into the head of Anna's eldest daughter!
Two sharp arrows, almost at the same moment, arrived at Christian's side.
This shot by Charlaton immediately caused the Centaur scouts watching the battle to erupt in thunderous applause and applause. In the Blood Fury clan, I'm afraid that only he, and fellow centurion Kulonia, have mastered this deadly shooting technique.
They opened their eyes wide to see how the chief's sister, exactly how to respond, this straightforward two-pronged attack?
However, the two arrows, in full view of everyone, went straight through Christian's small and lovely body, as if two stones were cast on the surface of the water, on top of the bard's illusion, rippling.
"Is this a phantom?! When did she cast that spell?! No, at such a close distance, there is no way that little girl could have fooled my eyes, unless ------ the one who appeared in front of us at the beginning and challenged me was a phantom under her manipulation! A bit interesting!"
Charlaton tensed his muscles and looked around warily, searching for Christian's body. Suddenly, the light behind him began to distort and deform, revealing a small, delicate black mare, holding a heavy crossbow in her hand, her scarlet pupils burning with rage, staring at the back of the blood rage veteran's heart.
"Puff."
With a harsh, piercing whistling sound, a sharp, thick crossbow bolt whistled and tore through Charlaton's locking armor, splashing a bloody wave on his broad left shoulder. The terrifying force even made the one-ton behemoth stumble forward a step and almost fall to the ground.
The Blood Fury Centurion let out an angry roar as he twisted his nimble waist and aimed his longbow, drawn to a full moon, at the bard behind him. But the moment Charlaton was ready to release the string, his eyes were in a trance. The petite black mare in front of him, disguised by the mysterious and inscrutable arcana, became much taller and handsome, and on her delicate face, a pair of blood-colored pupils, suppressing endless pain and madness - simply exactly like her mother.
"Ann ------ Anna? Chief?"
Charlaton looked incredulously at the phantom in front of him, quickly dropped the hands of the bent bow and arrow, slowly loosened the bowstring drawn into a full moon, not daring to offend that is simply the embodiment of blood and war!
Chief Anna, for whom he fought half his life! The blood rage king who died in the snowy north! Once again came to him with an invitation to war.
"Come on, brother. Today, we have a war to win!"
"Chief ------ is really you? You have not been killed in action in ------" blood rage veteran's voice, turned a little choked. The vicissitudes of the eyes, turning more and more moist, can not believe what is happening in front of the eyes, the scar under the eyelids faintly painful - Anna the night of the fallen, all the blood rage men and horses, with a knife, in the skin below the eyes, cut a bloody scar, with dripping blood, instead of hot teardrops, gurgling down.
Looking at the illusion she forged, settled the enemy's mind, Christian sang the sweet song her mother used to lull her to sleep when she was a child, and between each note, injected ** arcane energy.
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At the same time, the bard's white hoof, gently stepped on the front of the crossbow pedal, she bent her thin waist, bronze hands, redraw the crossbow string, and on top of the arrow slot, fill a second heavy crossbow arrow, once again aimed at Charatong's head.
The sharp arrow cluster, refracted by the blinding light, finally awakened the blood rage veteran from his hallucination. It was too late to bend the bow and aim, with the brute strength of the centaur, Charlaton directly used the right-hand arrow as a dart, and threw it viciously in the direction of the bard, catching Christian off guard, and in order to dodge the incoming feathered arrow, the crossbow's trajectory, too, deviated from its original trajectory.
With the sound of steel rubbing against flesh and blood, two sharp feathered vectors, grazing their cheeks, flew off into the distance, leaving a fiery scrape on their faces, both of them.
"Undo the illusion on you! Dwarf! You have no right to dress up as her! You have failed your mother!"
Looking at the bard who used arcane magic and disguised himself as Anna, Charlaton suddenly burst into a raging fury! He withdrew the composite longbow in his hand and removed the spear hanging on his shoulder.
You can't attack each other from a distance with a spell caster. If you want to win, you must use overwhelming power to completely crush the weak gnome in close combat.
Unknowingly, Charlaton has taken the bard in front of him, as an opponent worthy of attention.
"Failure? My mother declared in front of you that I would succeed her in the future, and you, Charlaton! You, too, knelt under my mother's hooves and promised to pledge your allegiance to me after she died in battle! It is you who have failed me!"
Christian put away the crossbow and drew the war hammer and kite shield that the Chosen Descent, gifted to her. The hammer head, decorated with gold relief, shone with a terrifying and terrifying arcane glow.
"And now, I will prove to you that you are wrong! You were all wrong! Today, I have the power to rival my mother!"
"Don't be ungrateful! Dwarf! Back then, you couldn't use a bow and arrow, you were just a tiny bit bigger than a hound, and you couldn't even hunt a deer with a throwing rope! If it were any other clan, you would have been exiled or killed!
We have been tolerating you to stay inside the safety of the camp for the sake of your mother. Have been giving you to share the food you got from hunting ------ Don't you still know enough? Do you still want to lead us? Ha! What a joke! Gnome!"
The more Charlaton spoke, the angrier he became, filled with rage, finally overcoming his inner trepidation about Anna - it was just an illusion created by a dwarf!
The iron tip of the spear, like a silvery gray meteor, stabbed hard at Anna's phantom, and the bard raised her shield to meet it, barely catching her opponent's attack. However, she is too inexperienced in close combat, the blood rage veteran flipped the spear, heavy spear handle, like a long brown whip, heavy whip in the bard's left arm, directly to her thin body, knocked to the ground.
Christian shouted out in pain, swept by the end of the gun, his left arm is like a thousand needles through, a little movement, will come to the heart of the sharp pain.
"Is this the power you boast of? A dwarf? I admit you've become stronger, but not nearly enough compared to your mother!"
The spear in Charlaton's hand, after spinning around, the sharp tip of the spear, redirected at the bard's neck, provocatively cutting a faint scar, flaunting his victory.
"Christian, you're disguised as your mother and fallen woefully to the ground! Stand up! Don't lie there like a dog and insult the most powerful chief in the history of Blood Rage!"
Chapter 162: Christian (next)
Christian humiliated from the ground, chanting songs with magical power, healing up the wounds of his left arm. And aside, Charlaton, from the bard's throat, retrieved the sharp spear, as if a cat playing with a mouse, playing with the enemy in front of him - even if it was only an illusion, he wanted to see the long-dead Anna chief in.
"Spare the life of your enemy in a duel? Are you insulting me, Charlaton? Very well, very well, very well!"
The hatred in Christian's eyes intensified, and the wooden iron-clad Iris shield in his left hand suddenly erupted in a blinding light! The smooth, flat surface of the shield was as bright and dazzling as a thousand suns, blinding the surrounding audience, not to mention the blood rage hundred households in the center of the light!
The searing light, as if a thousand steel needles burned red by the flames, stabbed into Charlaton's hazel eyes at the same time!
Under the cover of the blinding light, Christian's two hearts beat more and more rapidly and violently. The delicate bronze skin, as if swept by the hand of death, cracked out a hideous bloody scars. The crimson blood, as if boiling molten lava, surging in her body, and through a terrifying gap, emitting blood-colored steam, they fluttered, swirled, and finally coalesced, and finally turned into a sky-rocketing dark red smoke!
"Oh my God! It's the Sheikh! It's the Chief's blood-colored rage unto death! Not bad for her sister!" A savage hoofed centaur who had just joined the clan and was unaware of the truth, marveled at Christian's power.
"Kind of interesting, after all these years, this dwarf actually gained the same fearless rank as her mother and sister?"
"Hell! This gnome's body is still covered with Chief Anna's phantom, plus the blood mist that wraps around it ------ looks exactly like the old chief!" Two blood rage scouts who grew up with Christian were surprised at the other's growth.
The bard, who was completely consumed by rage, did not hear the noises around her. She was like a furious female beast, instantly rushed to the veteran's body, the right hand decorated with gold embossed war hammer, wrapped in thousands of electric currents, fiercely smashed in Charlatan's right shoulder, hard lock armor, can not resist the blunt blow of the war hammer, steel material, is the perfect conductor of thunder!
With a creepy cracking sound, the right shoulder of the blood rage veteran, a terrifying depression, the clenched fist instantly relaxed, sharp spear fell to the ground, the whole arm, like noodles, hanging limp in the waist.
And that splintering pale electric current, but also along his body lock armor running around, blasting, scorching the six limbs of Charlatan.
"Two pieces of magic equipment? Where did she get them from! The blind shield, as well as the armor-breaking Current Warhammer, are simply aimed at Charlaton!" Watching the situation in front of him take a sharp turn for the worse, a scout roared out in anxiety and anger.
"No - these two pieces of equipment, rather than targeting the Centurions, are aimed at all melee units - including our chiefs." Another, somewhat older centaur, saw more thoroughly.
"ROAR!!!"
Like an old wounded wolf, Charlaton let out a terrifying growl! After losing his vision, being badly injured, and being paralyzed by electric shocks all over his body, he endured the pain and advanced instead of retreating. The horse's hoof took a big step forward, his left hand pulled out the dagger strapped to his chest, and with a speed that could not be captured by the naked eye, he drew a sharp arc in the air!
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Just that thunderous strike, if it was an ordinary centaur, will certainly be caught off guard, by his sharp blade slit throat. However, Christian's size is too pocket-sized, vision has not yet recovered blood rage veterans, can not pinpoint her height, the sharp blade, in Christian's chest lock armor, cut a blinding spark.
Christian in a bloody rage, was scared out of her cold sweat, she subconsciously swung the war hammer, smashed the opponent's left arm, the sharp dagger came out of her hand, crooked and broken, blood-stained arm bone, accompanied by shocking waves of blood, pierced the flesh of Charlatan, exposed in the air.
The bard looked up at the tall man and horse, her left hand lifted upward with all her might, and the sturdy brim of her shield, smashed solidly into the veteran's jaw, and the full force of the blow smashed him with a mouthful of blood, and his front hooves left the ground.
Under the augmentation of blood rage, Christian's power, finally reached the passing line of adult horses.
Momochi, who received a heavy blow to the jaw, blacked out and almost fainted. When he regained consciousness and his eyes regained their vision, he saw a phantom image that haunted him.
Anna, who was covered in a mist of blood, looked as if she had returned to the clan again from a painting, with the heavy head of her hammer, gently touching on her left shoulder, claiming her loyalty.
Suddenly, the scroll in front of him was distorted, and the tall, handsome mare in front of him disappeared, but instead, there was a small, delicate dwarf that didn't reach her chest, but, above her bronze face, the pair of eyes that suppressed endless hatred and anger, and her mother, exactly the same.
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Skerritt's Flare - Blood Fury Camp
"Chief! Chief! It's not good!"
A blood rage scout, stumbling through the camp door, rushed to Christina and Pinehurst's eyes, his breathing disordered, his soft coat, thoroughly wet with dripping sweat.
"What's happening? So anxious? The green-scaled evil dragon rushed out of the forest? Toria is ready to start a civil war? Or is there a war gang of monsters roaming the grasslands and attacking our pastures and fields?"
The pale centaur raised the halberd with a cold glow in his hand - the craftsmen of the falling hammer began to build this complex weapon that doubles as a spear, axe and hammer. In his hand, the very first exquisite weapon forged by Kaur Baidou.
"No ------ no, neither, Christian, Christian is back! And is near the south gate, dueling with Charlaton to take his position as a hundredth man!"
"What! Is she crazy!" Pinehurst's eyes widened in surprise, that veteran's experience and skill exaggerated to a terrifying degree! The household system had just been established, and he had continuously defeated countless strong people, and could definitely be ranked among the top three out of the twelve hundred households.
"Whew--"
While the pale centaur was still amazed, Christina had already knocked over the wooden table full of papers and rushed out of the clean white tent, inside the castle, into a terrifying storm! In a flash, she rushed out of the fortified castle, anxiously searching for her twin sister.
"Near the south gate, near the south gate, Christian! Where are you! Damn it! I should have known to pull that scout with me!"
Chief Blood Fury looked around anxiously, and suddenly, a strange picture came into her eyes: a large group of people, surrounded by a large number of horses, and from which thunderous applause and applause erupted!
"Bunch of assholes! How many times have I told you! As long as I live, you will not be allowed to laugh at Christian!!!"
Christina, clad in the Chimera battle armor, was like an angry female beast, running madly forward. That old bastard, Charlaton, would have insulted his twin sister in the duel, in front of the group!
The mere thought of that image makes the rouge blazing horse's eyes fill with blood and his fur, all trembling gently with rage!
"Charlaton! Stop right there! You want to duel so badly? Come on! I'll fight with you! I swear I'll drain the last drop of blood from your body - Huh??"
Pushing through the crowd and rushing to the center of the crowd, the Blood Rage chief made an incredible sound - his own sister, although somewhat wretched, stood proudly in the middle of the crowd, accepting the cheers and praise of the crowd, while the scarred Blood Rage veteran, instead, knelt under Christian's hooves, willing to give eternal loyalty in exchange for his life .
Christian won? She beat a veteran that even she, herself, found tricky?
"Where have you been these days! Did you get hurt? Why didn't you even tell me!"
The rouge blazing horse anxiously rushed to the side of his sister, a hug around his sister, reproachful voice, mixed with a little fear of crying. Arms clinging to the bard in front of him, as if afraid that she once again from leaving his side.
"An la, I'm fine ------ sister."
The bard's dark, delicate hands gently encircled Christina's waist. Enjoying the long-lost embrace.
Pinehurst followed the blood rage chief, came to the site of the incident, Christina indulged in the joy of the reunion of sisters, and did not notice anything different, but - Christian's body "sister".
Not from the blood and water kinship, but a high ------ arrogance.
Chapter 163: The final battle group
The Blood Fury clan is divided into twelve hundreds in total. One is the Heavy Armor Fearless, which is directly under Chief Bloodrage, and one is the Black Fang, which is ruled by Sigrid.
The remaining ten hundreds, forming a complete weave of thousands, and ten basic fighting groups, were the Blood Fury veterans under Peinhus. Cullonia, Charatone, and their most trusted men, the barbarian hoofed men and horses managed by them.
Oh, after adding Christian, it's now three. That guy Charlaton, after losing the battle, re-found the weakest barbarian hoof centurion and challenged her to the top again.
The remaining six hundred households, three are noblemen born of barbarian hooves and three are outstanding craftsmen of Falling Hammer. Under the temptation of tax exemption, and high salary, the fallen hammer craftsmen worked overtime to rush to make halberds and wooden crossbows. The work of clearing the grasslands was handled by the other nine hundred households.
The messenger sent to the elven city-state [Pentecapone] finally got back to the city, those pointed ears, was surrounded by orcs in three layers, the high walls outside the pastures, farms, was completely destroyed, granaries look like the bottom, the whole city-state was in a panic.
The only good news is that the orcs, who originated from the depths of the Sea of Grass, have all kinds of strange things engraved in their DNA, but they just don't have the technology to build ships, which prevents them from blockading the elven seaports, so that the Yew of Skerritt and Pentecapone, can be connected by water.
The elves sold all kinds of ingenious gold sculptures, silver jewelry, and all kinds of brilliant gems by weight, and traded a lot of food and feathered arrows - arrows made of flint or white bone - from Christina. Iron? Not even enough for yourself.
Immediately after, the blood rage clan turn their hands to transport these artifacts back to the iron peak fortress, bribery, buy the blacksmiths there, to obtain more iron ore resources. Or shipped to Diodosia, the gang of gold crawlers, which can withstand the temptation of such things, have brought out their own cattle and sheep, grabbed the trade, so that the clan more and more prosperous and rich.
Under Pinehurst's military merit system, the fear of war in the soldiers' souls was completely replaced by greed for money, status, fame, and even girls. They fought with fear of death, other monster clans, just the sight of the bloody skeleton banner, and the sound of the "ears", will be scared to the point of weakness.
What's more, each Hundred will be equipped with a dozen Goth priests as logistics. Unless one's throat is directly cut and head chopped off, it is difficult to die with the centaur's tenacious vitality and that not at all scientific healing divine arts.
In order to motivate the soldiers under them, every full moon, the pale centaurs will even count the battle achievements of the hundreds of households. The first ranked will receive substantial awards, the last, will be ridiculed by all the clan, so that those unlucky guys, with full of resentment and anger, before the moon is full again, fighting more brave and wild, bring back more spoils of war, take back more slaves.
The scattered monsters wandering inside the sea of grass, under the relentless sweep of blood fury and thunder spear, gradually towards the edge of extinction - as for the green-scaled evil dragon that coiled in the sea of ghost flowers? The centaur did not dare to mess with him and walked around the forest. But he also didn't dare to fly out of his hiding place, while facing the hill giants' rock throwing, and the centaurs' sky-blinding arrow rain.
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Chief Sandra of the Thunder Spear Clan, was quite interested in the laws made by Peinhus - it was incredible that the Blood Fury Clan, with less than a thousand men, managed to keep more than three times the number of surrendered soldiers, in order.
So, Sandra learned the laws of blood rage with a twist, and divided the three thousand or so Thunder Spear soldiers under her into ten of the most basic fighting groups as well. Hundreds of households, the strongest get them.
However, Chief Thunder Spear was puzzled: those obviously insignificant Black Fang surrendered soldiers, why in the internal one-on-one single fight, simply like Skerritt possessed? Why did they beat the elite, forbidden army, which they had sent out on purpose, in an abnormal way?
Black Fang is a small clan, divided into the Thunder Spear internal, probably only a hundred or so people. But they occupy a full four hundred households?!
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400 years of the Julian calendar - the first day of the third month (400.3.1 A.D.)
A warband of five hundred earth elves walked vigilantly in the depths of the sea of grass. They were emaciated and wounded, and the wolves under their hips were also clamping their tails in a listless manner - after being swept by the horses and men for three months, they were afraid that they were the last tribe in the vicinity, and after several consecutive battles, they were heavily damaged and forced to discard all their provisions and had little food left.
The wolves have re-blockaded Fortress Veselius, and no one can escape the closed peninsula.
Stay in the west, will be enslaved by Horus. Stay in the east, will be killed by Toria - many weak monsters, completely in despair.
"Woo-"
Suddenly, a loud and clear horn, scared the crowd a shiver, they trembled to the east: a half-man, half-horse black shadow, standing on top of the slope of the earth!
"Quick! Kill him before he draws more men!"
The Great Gnome Warlord let out a furious roar. His huge nose, which seemed to have been completely cut off by some kind of sharp blade, made that ugly face, look even more hideous and terrifying. And at his crotch, was actually a three-cranium monster! A vicious lioness with round pupils, an evil goat with square pupils, a golden cold-blooded vertical pupil, three heads, and six eyes, vigilantly surveying different directions.
A pair of huge fleshy wings, curled up on either side of his lanky body, two lion front paws, and two goat hind hooves, trampling a deep line of tracks in the grassland.
This Chimera, is the warlord from a group of red painted orcs to buy the hands of the almost spent his life savings, the entire war regiment, but also forced to act as the other side of the cannon fodder, and another group of orcs to fight - although the death of more than a hundred earth elves, the dead goblin cannon fodder, but also countless.
But it's all worth the price for this Chimera that has been tamed and enslaved since childhood!
Hearing the warlord's order, the wolf cavalrymen drew their recurve shortbows while whipping the listless seated wolves and pursued them to the right. The centaur scout turned his head and ran, the bone sharp arrows, crooked, fell behind him.
The wolves carrying the earth spirits, and the lanky and heavy chimera, could not catch up with the wildly running hooves of the centaurs, and they turned backwards helplessly. But it didn't take long for those damned half-humans and half-horses to blow their distracting horns again, hanging far behind the battle group! Just like a nasty fly, can't be beaten or shaken off.
Not long after, the end of the earth spirit's vision raised a sky of sand and dust, and the earth beneath their feet produced an abnormal trembling. The wolves whimpered and clenched their tails, and let out a low growl of fear: everything heralded the coming of the centaur army!
The great gnomes have let out a desperate wail. Fleeing for days, abandoning countless cattle and sheep provisions, still caught up by those damned half-humans and half-horse!
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Months ago, when Pinehurst was trapped inside the White Plague, the cold, biting wind, like a sharp knife, scraped his handsome cheeks, the pale centaur resented the garrison inside the fortress of Veselius
South of the high wall, it's so warm! So vast! Enough for everyone to live on together. Why are the Ostrogoths without compassion or mercy? They firmly guarded the throat of the peninsula and watched themselves slowly march to their death in the frost and snow of the north?
And now, the acting chief lies on top of a turquoise meadow, enjoying the warm, moist sea breeze that gently brushes his silvery tresses, the pale warlock is exceptionally annoyed with the horde of monsters that have slipped into his pastures and graze around.
Those fertile pastures are all mine! We defeated the Gothic barbarians, bloodthirsty wolves, and countless weak clans, fought within the council, and paid for countless blood and bones to obtain this land! Why are you small tribes grazing in my land? Why do you eat the soil and pasture that my brothers and sisters have bought with their lives?
What? You're starving to death? What's it to me? What goes around comes around, and the weak eat the strong.
Chapter 164: Necromantic Servants
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A group and a group of athletic, majestic black shadow, accompanied by loud and piercing sound of hawk cry, from the sky, will be the earth essence war group, enveloped in the falcon wings, the dark shadow under. A pair of greedy, sharp eagle eyes, proudly looking down on the ground prey.
After the eagles, there were more than one hundred and fifty sturdy men and horses wearing felt hats and leather armor, who were like a group of evil spirits announcing death, accompanied by galloping from afar. With a huge composite longbow in hand, several heavy javelins as thick as a child's arm strapped to their sides, and a six-foot long, sharp halberd capable of handling spears, axes and hammers, and a leather-covered wooden kite shield hanging from their broad shoulders.
Centaurs are basically marauders, warriors, or druids. Barbarian, or [Fearless], is unique to the Bloodrage clan. In their tradition, only the most elite warriors are qualified to learn and acquire this rank.
Peinhus scoffed at this ancient tradition, and in the witching hour**, frantically blowing Christina's pillow about the folly of the blood rage tradition - it was simply a human with a divine weapon, fighting wolves with his bare hands in the middle of the steppe, and no one would mourn his comical death.
Finally, the rouge blazing horse was persuaded by his spouse to take the heavy armor fearless, taking turns to teach the eleven hundredth clan members and inspire the rage in their souls. After consuming three months, most of the clan members, part-time a fearless rank. Raising the strength of the entire clan, a step up.
The warriors are naturally jubilant. In times of crisis, they can transform into a bloody killing machine in a short time and turn the tide of battle at a disadvantage.
The Marauders were also very happy - they became stronger and more athletic. As long as they weren't wearing heavy iron armor, the movement speed of these archery masters was a full 20% faster than before! Far ahead of the ordinary clansmen! Parthian archery juggling, more comfortable.
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Immediately behind these light cavalrymen were twenty-eight blood rage elites clad in heavy armor. They were covered with brown leather armor, human body, and wore an additional heavy lock armor. The hem of the armor, like the curtain of a tent, hanging down to the position of the horse's hooves.
These twenty heavily armored horses were also equipped with composite longbows, heavy javelins, long-handled halberds and matching wooden kite shields. However, on their shoulders, they also hung a four-meter-long thick heavy riding spear, and a small round wooden shield was tied to their left shoulders, so that when they held the spear with both hands and launched an unstoppable charge at the enemy, the small shield could block the heavy cavalrymen's faces and necks from being wounded by the arrows.
One hundred and seventy-five horses and men. A standard hundred household size. This is the power that Christian, currently commands.
"Follow them, and when the other hundreds come, do it together." Looking at the terrified Earth Elf warband in front of him, the bard gave the order indifferently. The bard scattered in all corners of the Sea of Grass, carpet searching for the invading tribe. As soon as they found the enemy, they would quickly rally together like wolves and wildly crush all the enemies.
And in the distance, looking at the half-man, half-horse horror of the black shadow, and painted with the blood skull of the frightening banner of the earth elite war regiment, is the fear of death, they barely restrain the fear in their hearts, in accordance with the hard training of the past, in formation, trained to charge the blood rage of the barbarians, battle roar and wolf howl pierced the dusky dome of the sky.
"Woo! Woo!"
Christian deliberately waited for the earth elves to rush into the firing range of the longbow before blowing the war cry, two sharp, short sounds of the horn, representing retreat. Speed far above the seat wolves, while pulling away from the enemy's, while sending a rain of arrows that covered the sky, with rude and harsh jeers to the warband.
After a chase, the wolves did not even bite a single hair of the horse. On the contrary, they were shot into bloody hedgehogs by the opponent's roaming feathered vectors, and the shocking blood moistened the turquoise grassland.
"Retreat! Retreat to the west! To the land of the wolves! Rather than die under the hooves of a human horse, I'd rather be used by that wolf, as cannon fodder slave!"
The morale of the great goblin warlords, has long been days of bloody battles, worn away, a small defeat, they are discouraged, no battle spirit, speeding towards the direction of the falling sun, but can not shake off the bard's barbarian soldiers, had to watch the pocket-sized black horse, and constantly send signals to rally.
Christian, with her barbarian soldiers, clings to the Warlord's rear. In this kind of open area with an unobstructed view, the centaurs have the absolute initiative. When the numbers are at a disadvantage, they hold off attacking. Waiting for a few more centurions later? Hm, this last warband can be removed from Gredinian.
Time passed slowly in one chase and one escape, and a second wave of men, like a dark storm of death, arrived on the battlefield. They simultaneously waved banners of bloody skulls, with black fangs, wearing black leather armor, with their hands playing with two slender short spears, and some elite warriors, draped in sleeveless, waist-length chainmail shirts, protecting their soft chests and bellies without compromising speed.
Blood rage an ordinary hundred, can pull out about 150-200 soldiers. However, the sound of this group of guys, unusually large, was as much as 500! It was more than twice the number of ordinary hundred households.
This, is the special weave under Peinhers: specially used to suppress fellow clansmen and start civil wars [Black Fangs] - the black rage in the souls of these executioners, after being ignited by Fearless, becomes more dangerous and horrible.
"Shit! Now we are at a disadvantage in numbers! Those men and horses, they could attack at any moment! Run! Hurry!" The warlord leaders shouted in panic, they were like a poor mouse, being played by a cat, their life and death depended entirely on the mood of the other side.
"Ta, ta! Ta-da!!!"
With the heavy, horrible sound of horses' hooves like drums from far to near. The third wave of men and horses, too, joined the battle. They were one hundred and ninety-two in total. As many as eighty elite soldiers holding riding spears and clad in lockets. The man at the head of the group, like a bitter winter wind interspersed with snow, silvery long hair above a golden crown of nine devils dancing wildly, glittering in the light of the setting sun.
And beside him, there is actually a riding a grassland war horse, beautiful to the incomparable Drow elves, dark delicate skin, and white soft clothing, smooth and delicate fingers, fondling a small hand crossbow.
"Ah, finally! It's not in vain that I worked so hard for days to hunt them down! Brothers and sisters! Don't let the skeleton servant I found so easily slip away! And don't use the hammer head of the halberd to smash its perfect skeleton! Whoever kills that Chimera, I will skin that dragon beast and have the Kaul Centurion make you a battle armor identical to the Blood Rage Chief!"
Looking at the three beasts in the distance, the Acting Chief's dark eyes burst out with an incomparable greed! He excitedly raised the bull horn in his hand, so that the two lilting, thick sound of the horn, in like a flame like a gorgeous, beautiful evening sun, resounded through the clouds.
Two consecutive trombones announced the advent of a bloody battle.
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Chapter 165: Blizzard
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Three teams of 100 households, accompanied by a loud and majestic trumpet sound, surrounded the earth elves, the front row shot straight, the back row parried, all the men and horses with the fastest speed, the hands of the long bow, pulled into a perfect full moon, so that a sharp iron clusters, like a gray rainstorm, falling from the vault of the sky!
The warlord's leader looked around at the people and horses in fear. Along with the thunderous and terrifying sound of string shock, the endless rain of arrows, like rows of silvery gray waves, roared up high into the sky, obscuring the orange colored haze in the sky, flooding over the heads of the battle group, rolling away a fresh soul and life.
Each barbarian soldier carried two arrow pouches with a total of sixty iron arrows. With a terrifying efficiency of one arrow in six seconds, they poured out more than five thousand arrow clusters towards the earth elves in just six minutes!
A rod of slender arrow tail, like black pasture grass, growing in a field of ruddy grass moistened by blood.
In just six minutes, the battle group was routed under that horrible rain of arrows, countless soldiers, seated wolves, were shot into bloody hedgehogs, their miserable wails were completely drowned out by the mournful whistling of arrows and the scraping sound of steel piercing through flesh and blood. The warlord leader hurriedly jumped off his mount and hid in the belly of the Chimera, barely surviving with the help of its inherently strong leather.
But when he heard the rain outside thinning out, dissipating, and looking out nervously from under the belly of the dragon - his last soldiers, there were few left, while those on the periphery put away the composite longbows in their hands, and instead drew their javelins and kite shields, and the elites in chainmail raised their exaggeratedly long, huge riding spears!
"Hold the line of battle! Shield Wall! Shield Wall!!!"
The warlord leader desperately reorganized his warband, his ugly head without a nose, completely overrun by fear. Thanks to the disciplined militaristic society of the earth elves, the remaining soldiers barely managed not to break up, holding aloft their shields filled with arrows and clustering around the Chimera's side.
Peinhers smiled slightly, for three consecutive months, he at least cleaned up, eliminated twenty large and small warring groups, in a blood and flesh fight, in a time of arcane impact, he finally touched the fourth ring of the field, comprehended the first powerful killing arcane.
"Whew--"
The biting cold wind, wrapped in silvery gray clouds, instantly coalesced over the warlord. The great geomancers, amazed, raised their heads, twenty feet away from the dome of the sky, still azure, with a gorgeous evening sunset, only above their heads, covered by dark clouds, near the temperature turned sharply below!
"Slap the pedal!"
A palm-sized piece of ice, falling from the vault of heaven, hit hard on the top of a soldier's hat, he covered his head in pain, before he could react, another piece of cold ice falling from the sky, smashed his finger, the bone-chilling low temperature, freezing the blood spurting out of the earth spirit.
"Pop-tap! SLAP TAP! SLAP TAP!!!"
Endless bone-chilling ice, driven by the will of the pale centaurs, condensing in the clouds, meteoric, like a majestic rain, dense to a line of ice storm, instantly the battle group, completely submerged.
"Charge! Charge! Charge!!!"
The horrific blizzard, which lasted only six seconds, dissipated, while the arrows were exhausted, and the men and horses let out a loud battle cry and immediately launched a third round of attacks!
The elite in heavy armor, holding mounted spears with both hands in front, the barbarians in leather armor, or only draped with animal skins in the back, stepping on the other earth trembling, wildly killing the routed battle group! The barbarians threw a heavy spear that was several times more powerful and destructive than the arrows, destroying the shield wall that the earthlings had barely constructed again, so that the front row of shock cavalry, as if they were in no man's land!
The gnomes drew their delicate short bows and tried to use the same rain of arrows to stop the centaurs that were like a tsunami, sweeping through heaven and earth. However, most of the arrows shot at the waist and stomach were stopped by the double combination of leather and chain armor, and even if one or two managed to hit the waist without internal organs, they could not cause serious injuries enough to affect the movement of the centaurs, while the arrows shot at the head, neck and even chest were stopped by the wooden shield tied to their left shoulder.
The slender riding lance, through, tearing the enemy's armor and shields, the impact of terror, crushing their flesh and bones! Well-trained, placed in the Northlands, is definitely a party of the dominant earth elves, like a broken puppet, along with a harsh blood-colored arc, by the heavy armor, crashed into the high sky.
After the impact, the centaur removed the halberd behind the shoulder, the sturdy and robust arms, the halberd raised high above the head, heavy smashed into the desperate battle group, sharp axe blade, cut their limbs in pieces, heavy hammer head, the enemy body blasted with blood and flesh!
The warlord's leader looked around the battlefield, following his veterans of a hundred battles, under the halberds and iron hooves of men and horses, like weeds fall. He understood that everything was over, and looked up to the sky and let out a cry of despair.
"Spit on my army! Clear a starting line and just fly! It's already March, the ice is gradually melting in the North, and with the power we both have, I can pull together a new goblin warband if we fly back to our homeland in the North!"
"Roar!"
The Chimera responded to its master's command. Three heads and three low roars were superimposed together to form a unique roar. The pitch-black dragon head took a deep breath and turned the large, ghastly, bloody mouth full of sharp fangs. Opened to the extreme!
Fishy wind, wrapped in a large number of constantly expanding, bursting open creepy foam, and crazy writhing miserable green acid, from his hideous and horrible blood bowl mouth, gushing out!
The terrifying wind pressure, enough to tear flesh and blood, lifted a thin layer of the ground. Dark green acid water, as if from the inside of a high-pressure water gun, gushing out the horror of the ray, in the hard soil, plowed a deep furrow. Terrible strong acid, wildly corroding the fertile earth, accompanied by a chilling "snort" sound, rising out of a wisp of choking fumes emitting a foul smell.
The corrosive dragon's breath ripped out a bloody path of death in the fight to the death, and countless loyal earth goblins only felt the pain from their backs, then they lost their senses and fell from the wolves' backs - their armor, flesh, guts, bones, all were corroded by the strong acidic dragon's breath from behind. Their armor, flesh, guts and bones were all corroded by the strong acidic dragon's breath from behind! All that was left on the ground was a pile of flesh and blood!
"ROAR!!!"
Chimera three heads, issued a terrifying roar, sharp lion front paws, and sturdy goat hind hooves, trampling on the warm remains of the earth essence, frantically running forward! A pair of fleshy wings, 20 feet long, also stretched out from the sides of the body, flapping more and more violently and frequently.
After roughly a few dozen feet of assisted running, Chimera's galloping speed reached its peak, and his sturdy, robust limbs slammed into the grass, and the entire dragon instantly scurried up into the humid heights. Low swept past the soldiers in the front row of centaurs. The bat-like fleshy wings, like two huge bushels of fans, flapped up and down wildly. The strong airflow, the blood rage barbarian soldiers under the shadow of its wings, blew the eyes open.
"It's going to fly away! Stop that dragon!"
Looking at the giant beast that took off, the back row of men and horses immediately pulled out the javelins at their sides, a stalk of child's arm thickness, more than five feet of heavy javelins, dense as if the flying locusts, heavy stabbing in the jaws and abdomen of the Chimera, hot dragon blood, accompanied by three superimposed wails, as if a majestic rainstorm, descending from the heads of the barbarian soldiers, dyed them into the appearance of the devil.
The chimera, whose abdomen was pierced by at least forty throwing spears, desperately flapped its torn flesh wings. Raising his height upward. The powerful heavy javelin can penetrate his strong skin, but not the ordinary feather arrow! As long as you fly a little higher, you will be safe!
"SMACK!!!"
Suddenly, the light above the Chimera began to distort, a huge black beast, coiled in front of his three pairs of beast pupils. The thing was covered with black scales, four claws and two wings, like a skeleton on both sides of the hideous and appalling dragon head, a pair of sharp horns!
A black real dragon!
Christian gently stroked the soft strings, using illusionary sound, at the black dragon phantom, projecting a huge dragon's low roar, this trick children, can not bluff the earth elves warlord, but on the Chimera such sub-dragon effect is outstanding, it is afraid to let out three wails, panic even forgot to flap their wings, straight down into the sky, raising a large choking dust.
"Mine! This Chimera's skin, I'll take it!"
"Get out of the way! I want to be as majestic as the chief!"
"You bastards! Get out of my way, all of you!!!"
Seeing a powerful piece of equipment close at hand, all the blood rage soldiers who had killed their heads were red-eyed and rushed to the place where the Chimera had fallen. Although they remembered the law of "no harm to brothers and sisters outside of a duel," but ** pushing, shoving, collision, but inevitable.
But - the bard, in the process of casting the spell, had already calculated the behavior of the other side, so she rushed ahead of everyone, and the men under Christian's command, even more damaging, formed a long line, blocking the others from charging forward, so that their leader, with twenty elites in chain armor, was closer to that chimera Closer and closer!
"Ho--"
The monster that had been thrown to the ground, flinging its three heads, barely got up from the ground - the ground it landed on back first, the poor earth essence warlord, had been crushed into a bloody leather that clung to the Chimera's back. It was as if it was some kind of abstract painting.
"All eyes closed!"
Christian let out a roar, surrounded by twenty heavily armored soldiers, immediately closed their eyes, only to see the bard's shield in his hands, like a thousand dazzling sun, bursting out of the brightest white light, instantly burned and blinded the six eyes of the Chimera!