Chapter 226: Archmage vestments
Christina quickly tilted her weight forward, cocked her two long, graceful, pitch-black hind hooves and stomped violently at the warlock behind her, causing a sharp, ear-piercing cracking sound.
However, Pinehurst, who had cast the acceleration technique, was even faster. The four pale hooves, like a winter storm, quickly back out of the rouge blazing horse's attack range, and, before the opponent reverses direction, and shy and angry charge, once again hide their own form.
"Looks like it's my turn to give you a bath today, Christina~"
The rouge blazing horse quickly regained her composure, having suffered a loss, she was not disturbed by the other party's smug voice, once again, but stood alertly in place, searching for her lover.
Standing aside, watching the two fight, Christian flipped her slim wrist, and an antique lute appeared out of nowhere on top of her soft palm.
The little mare enchanted raised an elegant white front hoof, with a ghostly frequency, flying hit the ground, acting as an accompaniment to the drumbeat. The five fingers, as if boneless, are like angry waves, quickly plucking the strings, for the sister and spouse of the battle, offering a blood-soaked battle vocal music.
"You did that on purpose! Christian! He's already invisible, and you have to interfere with my hearing!"
"Ta-"
Another sound of horses' hooves trampling the ground, Christina rolled her eyes and feigned an attack - and sure enough, Pinehurst did the same trick again, revealing himself along with the distorted light.
"Gotcha!"
Christina twisted her waist, a sweeping wooden stick in her hand, wrapped in a terrifying wind pressure, instantly came to the side of the white horse, but in the moment of contact, was slowed down by the master, gently pointing at the side of Pinehurst's abdomen.
"That's an illusion too, honey."
The silent phantom, after being touched gently by the wooden stick, like a calm lake, rippled with the ripples of arcane magic. The big chief is like a ghost, once again appeared in the side of the rouge horse, the wooden stick in the hand, into the naked eye can not catch the shadow, gently point at the right arm of his lover.
Continuously teasing his opponent with illusions gave Peinhers a great satisfaction inside. This opponent, in particular, had rubbed himself on the ground a few days before.
However, Christina caught this moment of negligence, she bullied forward, a hand grabbed the big chief's left wrist, the hands of the wooden stick like a wild storm, not painful to fall on the opponent's body.
Pinehurst barely blocked his opponent's attacks, the force of each blow from the rouge blazing horse, were terrifyingly large, the wooden stick in his hand, wailing with the unearthly sound of tearing and crumbling, a horrific shock that almost tore through his own stick-wielding palm!
The big chief's forehead, emerged from the silk cold beads of sweat, he tried to draw his left hand, but the right hand of the rouge blazing horse, like an iron pincer as indestructible, a dead grip on his wrist. The wooden stick fell heavily once again, directly knocked away his weapon, then, quickly fell on the warlock's face, chest, with the shoulder, instantly pointing out ten pitch-black welcoming blows.
"Well, you win again."
Looking at the cheering Christina, Pinehurst sighed and chose to surrender.
There is nothing to be ashamed of when a warlock can't beat a barbarian in melee combat. However, one has to continue to study how to use illusionary spells better. Those mage's diary, recorded a lot of wonderful battle case, sometimes, a small one ring spell, even can achieve the effect of reversing the battle.
"Big Chief! Big Chief!"
Suddenly, a panicked voice came from the distance. Pinehurst casually wiped the charcoal dust from his body and looked at the visitor in confusion - only to see, a young human horse, holding a blood-soaked humanoid creature with both hands, frantically heading towards himself, hot blood, spilling all over the road he was running on.
"Who is that in your arms? What happened? How did you get hurt like this?"
The big chief stepped forward in confusion and looked at the bloody man in the arms of the centaur, with two long pointed ears, burrowing out of his long hair that was completely wet with blood. Hmm? It's an elf.
"Sheikh - Chief -"
The elf, stained with blood, struggled to say something, but he was so badly wounded that every word he spat out had to exhaust his whole body.
"Ogwelyn Tide Song? Druids! Go get some druids!"
Pinehurst heard the other voice and his eyes widened in surprise.
"What's happened? Didn't you go to Pentecapone with the beast Onado? He has a green dragon, not even become the chief of the green skin? The orcs there, scary to this extent?"
"That ------ that, that dragon did it on purpose! He was never under control! Wha-"
The elven mage spat out a rolling blood, his face grew paler and paler, and there was only the outgoing air between his nostrils, no more incoming air.
The pale warlock tried to call in a few druids to stabilize the other man's injuries, but was horrified to find that a transparent hole of flesh and blood had been opened in Tide Song's left chest! The entire heart, and half of the lungs are gone, as if by something huge and sharp, directly through.
"Don't, don't waste your breath, I, entirely with arcana, hanging on to this long dead life. The chief of the centaurs, the beast Onador, that fool, was a puppet of that green dragon from the beginning! Mortarion deceived us all!
Now, that green-scaled evil dragon, control a whole 50,000 brutal and bloodthirsty green-skinned orcs, we resisted stubbornly, but, Pantikapen, still fell-"
"What did you say?"
All those present, their eyes grew wide with surprise, and the bard's music came to a screeching halt as they listened in shock to the message from the elf.
"Please, Chief of the Centaurs, the green dragon of the epidemic has struck down the white tower, the corrosive poisonous mist has drowned the governor of the city-state, and the shadow of death has enslaved all my countrymen! Please, for the sake of helping you so many times, go and save-"
Ogwerin struggled to stretch out an arm that had been corroded by the poison to remove all the epidermis, exposing large chunks of pink muscle, and let out a cry of pain, crystal tears, washing away the blood that had long been crusted over, washing out scarlet blood marks on his old, stoic face.
Suddenly, the symbols of death engraved on his chest began to disintegrate and dissipate, Chaoge's pupils, instantly covered with a shade of death, towards the great chief of the trembling arm, weakly hanging down to the ground, the words of the mouth, also abruptly stopped, and finally, under the eyes of a group of people and horses, the soul returned to Laresan.
---------- ------
"You're rich, Pinehurst."
Henneville raised her arm and poked the pale centaur with her elbow.
"He was wearing a black silk, woven **master mage robe. This kind of rare thing, even in the magic academy of the Eastern Empire, there are not more than a hundred pieces."
The sad atmosphere was instantly broken by the Drow elves. Pinehurst looked at the elf corpse when the mourning eyes, suddenly turned a little greedy and embarrassed.
---------- ------
According to the custom of the colonists, the centaurs held a grand burial at sea for the powerful elven mage. A small boat piled with flowers, grain in the center, holding the remains of the mage. A few handy centaur girls, specially sewed the symbol of the Pantikapun flag, covered his miserable remains.
The boat slowly drifted towards the depths of the Black Sea. Pinehurst himself drew his composite longbow and twisted a slender feathered arrow from its capsule with his left hand. The energy of arcane magic, snaking and twisting along the brown shaft of the arrow, eventually burned a hot blaze on the sharp tuft.
The big chief skillfully drew a full moon, and after taking a slight aim, loosened the taut bowstring. Let the blazing arrow, cutting a burning arc in the air, hit the wooden boat branch on the dark sea.
"May your soul rest in peace, friend."
Looking at the small boat blazing on the sea, Peinhus straightened his silk vestments and offered his most devout blessing to Ogwilym Tide Song.
"Go get some druids! Immediately! Have them act as ambassadors for Bloodrage, go to Chesonisus at once, and tell that pale green wolf king that I grant his request! He can take his own army of wolf pups across our pastures and go on a bloodthirsty expedition against those damned greenskins."
"Your will!"
A blood rage barbarian soldier replied with great respect.
PS: request recommendation vote ah ~ each person has a free ticket every day, look at the author of the day more five thousand on the part of throw feed it -
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Chapter 227: The Lone King
After thinking left and right, Pinehurst decided that it would be better to tell the pale green wolf king all about the ghastly plot of Mortarion, the vast flood of greenskins, and the fall of Pentecapone, so that he could prepare himself for the expedition in every way.
At this juncture, pitting the wolves would not do any good, but would rather make the already tense relationship between the two continue to deteriorate. Compared to the green-scaled evil dragon who wanted to treat everyone as puppets and enslave them, the pale green giant wolf was still a little bit cute - at least he had signed a truce contract with the God's chosen descendant. It is the type that can communicate.
Speaking of which, Toria is still locked inside her cell by herself, not knowing what to do with - wait, that green dragon is now in Pentecapone, the only wood elves left in the Phantom Flower Sea are those wood elves, and those damned insiders of the Poetic Dead.
The Great Centaur Chief immediately calculated a new plan. First, the wind howl clan stationed in the north, those storm warriors of the thunderstorm, will be their best card against the green dragon.
Then, Peinhus ordered Abhors' Dead Bone Clan, Sigrid's Black Fang, to draw out one-third of their most elite soldiers to cooperate with the Thunder Spear Clan stationed in the north. They directly attacked the Sea of Forests and Flowers and raided the empty dragon nest of Mortarion.
Three chiefs, hundreds of druids. The withered white bones are good at forest combat, and the black fangs slaughter their fellow clansmen as if they were chopping and slicing. These two clans work together, even Piana's poetic dead, with the advantage of location and wood elves' minions, can not turn the sky.
For those half-green dragon half centaur hybrid heir, can catch, can not catch, at least also want to bring back the heads of this bunch of mole, all of them, to give yourself some peace of mind. If it goes well, you can also make a small fortune inside the Motarian's lair.
"Are we going to take over Fort Longthroat?"
Christina leapt to her feet, she excitedly drew the unusually sharp two-handed giant sword, white hands, gently rubbing the gray hilt with wire wrapped around it, eager for more blood and killing, for more heads and sacrifices.
Her twin sister: Christian did not speak, but the pair of ruby-like bright, magnificent bloodshot eyes, also shining with a creepy exuberant desire to kill.
Since these two sisters, while awakening the blood rage of the previous generation of chiefs, became a bit ------ addicted to fighting?
"Perhaps, the centaurs are like this, and Curonia, and the others are no better."
Pinehurst looked suspiciously at the twin sisters with bloodshot eyes, ignored their changes, and began to examine the sheepskin map in his hands.
Just as the fortress of Vesimiris, blocking the land connection between Gredinian and the Asian and European steppes, the Dragon's Throat Fortress, also straddling the throat of Gredinian and the Kerch Peninsula, is the only connection between the two places of passage.
"Yes, if that fortress must be taken down, otherwise, our pastures, cattle and sheep, will be completely drowned by the green sea at any time. We can't let the war, spill over to our homes, which we have worked so hard to build these days."
Pinehurst said, while pulling out a piece of tanned leather. Injected into the majestic arcane energy, so that the faint blue light emitting sheepskin, floating in the air, flying, and then rise, unfolded into an invisible layer of protective force field, which will cover himself.
"Tsk, it's really a man's plan, the Golden Crawler surrendered soldiers only barely obey my orders, once they step into the battlefield, it's hard to say whether they are reliable or not ------ there is a need to conduct a test."
---------- ------
Toria was like a statue carved in silver, lying motionless on the ground.
She was forced to kneel on all fours, her belly pressed against the cold floor, eight thick chains, deadly bound to her pale equine frame, both arms tied behind her back and buckled with anti-magic fine gold shackles.
Although every day there is a female centaur, feed her plenty of food and fresh water, also will take the big chief invented hair brush, clean her body. However, the God's chosen descendant, who has been pampered since childhood, simply cannot bear this humiliating captivity, and her body is getting thinner and more emaciated by the day.
Toria, who had been chained up all day and could not move a bit, yawned in boredom as she stared at the monotonous stone walls around her and felt a wave of tiredness coming on, so she slowly closed her eyes.
In the dream, it was as if she had returned to her early childhood. The golden banner covered the sky, and the dense sound of hooves shook the mountains and the earth. The Golden Crawler clan, led by her mother, launched a sudden attack on another Centaur clan, and the overwhelming advantage soon gave the Golden Crawler the ultimate victory.
A large flag embroidered with clan totems was thrown into the bonfire, turning into a wisp of dark smoke and floating into the clouds. A nobleman's head was chopped off by a sharp axe, crossing a bloody arc and falling into the dust.
After killing all the captured nobles and generals without mercy in front of all the captives, the mother changed her cruel and ruthless style of action and pacified the remaining herdsmen with good words, promising them better pastures, more cattle and sheep, and a more glorious future, and quickly annexed the small clan under both grace and authority, making the Jin Craw stronger.
"See, Toriya. The world is such a cruel place."
Toriya opened her eyes wide and tried to see her mother's face, but it was as if her dream was shrouded in a mist and she could only see a hazy face.
Chief Golden Crawler grabbed three freshly roasted legs of lamb and stuffed them in the hands of himself, and his two half-sisters. Watching the children wolfing down their food, the mother of the three, continued her teachings.
"Weak cattle and sheep will be enslaved and slaughtered by shepherds. Weak clans, too, will be defeated and annexed by powerful chiefs. My children, do you want to be shepherds, or cattle and sheep?"
"Of course it's the shepherd!"
The three ponies of different sizes raised their grease-stained little faces and spoke innocently. Looking at their reply, the face of the golden crawler chief, which was hidden under a mist, vaguely showed a smile of satisfaction.
"Prove to me, then, that all three of you bleed the chosen bloodline of God, but, in order to keep our noble bloodline from being diluted, the weak are not allowed, nor are they worthy to reproduce offspring. Weakening our bloodline! And there is only one chieftainship of the Golden Crawl ------"
Toria stopped chewing in horror, and her sisters, too, scowled at each other with equal horror. It was as if the previously blood relatives had turned into fierce-faced, sharpened hellish demons.
The picture in the dream suddenly turned, the young self, instantly grew into an incomparably beautiful adult horse, the body of pure silver hair, like a mirror shiny. Countless strong, sturdy muscles linked together, into a divine, handsome, beautiful body curve, the blood-colored mirror reflected in the proud face, but also beautiful and thrilling.
Tolya looked down, slender and elegant under the four hooves, a lake of blood, a turtle, a small snake, wandering freely in the pool of sweet red blood, their own hands, somehow, completely coated with blood ------
The God's Chosen Hind frowned. She looked at her hands, which were painted red with blood, and then looked around in confusion: she was standing at the entrance of the Golden Crawler camp, and two sturdy mares, however, had fallen into a pool of warm blood.
They were both heavily armed, holding blades, but their necks were severed by some kind of sharp instrument. The blood of the centaurs, like a rushing river, gushed out from the neck cleft and kept merging into the scarlet lake.
And the two faces that bore some resemblance to Toria's were, at the moment, hanging from the waist of the God's chosen descendant, with shocked and desperate faces.
"Toria! It was Toria who won the ultimate victory! Only she, is qualified to inherit the divine chosen bloodline! After waiting for the Chief's soul to return to Skerritt, she, is our new king!"
Acharya, the once forbidden marshal of the Golden Crawler Clan, who died at the hands of the sacred fire, was the first to bend down and bow to herself. Her loyal face made Toria's heart tremble - today, this is the fourth, the dearest and most beloved who died in front of her, once again surfaced in the ethereal dream world.
Countless cloaked soldiers of the Golden Crawler, accompanied by Acharya's movements, offered themselves to supreme loyalty, and they wildly chanted Toria's name, celebrating the birth of a new generation of [God's Chosen Descendants]
God's chosen descendant opened her mouth, she knew, at that time, what she would say, she knew, back then, what a fault she had committed, but she also knew that history could not be changed, even if, at the moment, she was in a dream world.
"Acharya, gather all your best warriors! When this is done, I promise you the position of forbidden marshal! Charge! Target, my mother's tent! Several years ago, she told me herself that there can be only one chief of the Golden Crawl."
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Chapter 228: The Loyalty Purge
"Squeak-"
A noisy noise woke Toria from her dream, she subconsciously tried to draw her sword to alert, but the flesh and blood body, but was firmly locked in chains of steel.
God's chosen descendants showed a mocking smile. He also annexed a number of small-scale centaur clans, killing their rulers, separating and managing a large number of herdsmen and slowly assimilating them. The same fate has befallen his own tribe.
"Tap-tap-tap-"
The sound of crisp hoof beats from far to near, Toria calmly raised her face, a pale stallion, like a bitter winter storm, came to his own. He wore a golden crown of sorcery, clad in a black silk robe, waist across his own once worn by the cataclysmic war blade. Some of the white face above, floating an impenetrable smile.
"Are you here to kill me? Then come quickly, the weak are strong, and today, I am merely a lamb to be slaughtered under you."
God's chosen descendant spoke indifferently, as if he had long since looked down on death.
"No."
The big chief bent his four hooves and sat equally on top of the cold ground, facing each other with both eyes.
"Tolya, you are a powerful druid, a fellow citizen of ours, and now that the common enemy of the centaurs has once again sounded the call to charge, are you, willing to help our people and win this war?"
After hearing Pinehurst's request, the divinely chosen descendant, as if she had heard something comical, threw back her eyes and laughed so hard that tears were falling down her face, and she looked at the increasingly impatient Grand Chief of the Centaurs and spoke with unparalleled contempt.
"Listen up! Kid! You can kill my life, but you can't break my will. Toria is only a human master, not a human subject!"
------
"Well, I'm not going to ask you the same question a second time."
After a brief silence, the great chief slowly rose from the floor, and the noise of the wooden planks scraping against the ground rang out again, and this time, in walked thirty-six tall horses and men, most of them clad in pale golden cat-man furs. Ears, necks, fingers, and even noses and lips, all wearing ornaments of gold.
At the front of the line were the three most powerful horses under Toria's command. Coles, Fleur, and Charleston. The rest of the Golden Crawlers, who were also under the new system of Blood Rage, took up the important position of the head of the hundred, leading the surrendered Golden Crawler soldiers.
The quality of the Golden Crawler clan is beyond words. The Blood Fury clan has a total of one ten-thousand household chief, five thousand household chiefs, and fifty hundred household chiefs, excluding people like Pinehurst who are also ten-thousand, thousand, and hundred household chiefs, for a total of fifty officers.
And among these fifty horses, there are thirty-six horses born of the Golden Cushion clan, some of the forbidden army, and even directly eliminated the old hundred households of blood rage, to create their own class rule, causing a certain impact - this is still the result of a large number of forbidden troops do not want to leave the old captain's command, lazy to participate in the selection.
Tolya looked at her former subordinates in surprise, and Coles and the others, too, looked at the supreme queen in shock, wondering what was going on. These surrendered soldiers, when they served as chiefs of thousands and hundreds, had sent their children as hostages to the tent of Peinhus as a sign of their loyalty.
Now it seems that the big chief is still worried about his loyalty, so, a new test is coming?
Peinhus calmly clapped his hands and ordered the new officers to stand on either side of Toria. He personally picked up a long string of Gothic sailors, tying the sails with flexible twine, wrapped around the God's Chosen descendant like a swan like slender white neck, the rope ends, respectively, handed to the two sides of the golden track officers.
"Big Chief ------ you are??"
Coles felt like he fell into an ice cave, he looked at the hands of the twine, in looking at the neck of the Supreme King, the calm of the past completely disappeared, six limbs like sieve trembling open.
"Pull the rope, you guys were talking better than singing before, what with your gratitude for the system of blood rage, for my extremely low taxes, with the benefits of war. Grateful that I broke the old noble class, so that all of you, by virtue of your own strength, can climb to high positions that were previously unreachable.
Yes, I still remember, it was you, that time said, willing to saddle me, liver and brain."
Looking at the thirty-six hundred households either shocked, or angry, or ashamed of the look, the pale centaur said indifferently.
"Since, you have sworn allegiance to me. Then, I give you, the elite, your first task: hang this mare. Execute it immediately."
A few gold-crawling centaurs who had climbed up from the bottom and had never even seen Toria a few times were grateful to Peinhus instead. They immediately carried out the big chief's order and pulled the rough hemp rope tight.
Some of the former nobles, after a brief daze, also reacted: the lives of their own families, now all in the hands of the blood rage clan, they are completely fish meat on the table! They hurriedly pulled the noose with all their might, fearing that the pale warlock would consider their brief hesitation as a sign of disloyalty, and then plague their whole family.
The three generals, such as Coles, were covered with cold sweat, and they kept calculating the current situation. Indeed, their children were in the hands of the blood rage barbarians, but inside this prison, there was only Peinhus alone! The rest are some gold-crawling wallflowers! If we can catch the great chief of the centaurs, we may be able to persuade them back to their own camp, in unlocking the yoke of the supreme king, to a rebellion, the victory or defeat think can be known ------
"Go to hell! White horse! Long live the Supreme King!!!"
Before Coles can calculate the understanding, almost cried out Flor, the first to roar out, she shouted the name of the chosen descendants of God, pulled out the waist of the sword, sharp blade, in the air cut a harsh arc!
"HISSRA!!!"
Fleur's longsword, ripped through the chest of the big chief, however, the wrist did not transmit the solid feeling of hitting the object. After the phantom was stirred up, it was actually accompanied by a distortion of light and dissipated into countless clouds of seven-colored starlight.
"Stop! Stop! The Supreme King is going to be strangled to death by you traitors!"
After Charleston looked around and found no sign of the white horse, he also drew two battle axes and lunged at the officers who tried to strangle Toria.
At this moment, the only thing standing in place is only the Coles.
"Get the hell out of the way! Charleston! You're not my general anymore!"
"You two want to die, run far away and die! Don't drag us! Furdo! I'm having a good time and don't want to keep slaughtering my own countrymen!"
Under the temptation of money, glory, and status of the big chief, the death wish of the gold-treaded soldiers has long since dissipated along with the passage of time.
Today, they are no longer captives and prisoners who are all alone and have nothing to lose. Instead, they are centaur herders with hundreds of cattle and sheep, fertile pastures, warm tents, and even, with the help of others, spouses and even sons and daughters.
The vast majority of people, do not want to give up this hard-earned stable life, following the old Golden Crawler, and then a bloody civil war between the hands and feet.
The two looked at those still strangling the rope, unmoved by the gold crawlers, felt a chill, at this moment, the big chief's voice, also like an invisible ghost, wrapped around them between.
"Very well, are you two the only ones trying to rebel? Coles? Why are you standing still? I'll give you a little more time to choose: to free the old Supreme King, or to serve the new Great Chief? Your wife, the eldest daughter you have left in my care, and your newborn foal, they all await your choice."
"I... I..."
Coles sweat like rain, four robust hoof, can not stop trembling, desperate eyes, look at because of suffocation, and more and more painful, distorted God's chosen descendants, in a look at the old gold crawl already fighting, a time, but do not know how to do!
"Coles! You bastard, come and help! They've put anti-magic shackles on the Supreme King! You're the strongest, get that thing off! Who can trap the Supreme King after she can use divine magic? Who needs to be afraid of that pale warlock?
In your psyche, is it your family that is important or the Supreme King?!"
After hearing Fleur's words, Coles' body, slowly stopped trembling, and he calmly walked up to the Supreme King, his stout right hand, holding a magnificent war hammer forged of pure gold, cutting a brilliant golden arc in the air.
"BANG!!!"
With a terrifying roar, Coles pulled out his blood-stained war hammer from a puddle of broken flesh - the golden head of the hammer, sunk deep into Charles Tong's head, warm blood, along with sticky brain matter, and hundreds of pieces of skull fragments, sprayed in all directions, staining the six limbs of the head of the thousand.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, old friend! You're right ------"
Coles closed his eyes in pain. The corners of the eyes, covered with folds, shimmered with crystal teardrops.
"Although I love the Supreme King, but, but, deep down in my heart, it is really still my lover, my child, more important! The chief is naturally replaced by someone who continues to lead the men and horses to carry the weight. But if my wife and children are all dead, what am I going to do?
You two single people wouldn't understand! The burden on my shoulders is so heavy!"
"Coles!!!"
Fleur let out a piercing scream, her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at the corpse of her companion and slowly fell to the ground.
Suddenly, along with a distortion of light, the pale body of Pinehurst, exposed in front of her. The great chief suddenly roared out a chilling, piercing whistle mixed with arcane power, under the influence of this deathly whistle, the cataclysmic war blade in his hand, suddenly transformed into a formless ghostly apparition, but still entwined with a dense pale electric current.
"Pfft."
The ghostly Void Warblade, like an invisible and incorporeal ghost, passed right through Fleur's raised shield, with heavy armor, and sunk deep into her heart. With the deafening sound of thunder, a thundering python whistled, jumped and roared, rampaging through her flesh and blood.
"Very well, you have proved your loyalty, go pull the rope."
Peinhus pulled out the battle blade of the cataclysm from the corpse that was almost roasted by the electric current, and inclined his head at the blood-soaked Coles. And the latter's face, almost lost all emotion. He numbly put away the war hammer, numbly grabbed the rope, numbly pulled back - and then the numbness of watching the Supreme Queen, in the suffocation slowly die.
"I gave you a chance, Toriya."
Looking at the hanged God's Chosen descendant, Peinhers sighed as he opened his magical shackles and the eight-maned black star on the back of his hand, instantly flashed with a terrifying light.
The Great Chief desecrated the ground beneath her feet, and then, shoving a black pearl of great value into Toria's mouth, chanted a creepy, evil incantation, causing a cloud of ethereal blue deathly blaze, to blaze in the mare's mouth! Undead blaze, instantly melted her brain and eyes, looking through the empty sockets, he was two eerie and evil death magic flames.
"Congratulations! You have passed my test! From this day forward, I believe in your loyalty! And I am willing to put my back, on the battlefield, in the hands of all of you here! We will work side by side to create a new future! Everyone go to the logistics, no one will be rewarded with ten head of cattle and sheep and a hundred rolls of animal skins."
Pinehurst controlled Toria, whose body was intact except for her brain, and slowly came to her side, assuming a groveling look of allegiance.
"But if any of you, dare to turn to these two men and attempt to betray your Great Chief? Believe me, death is not the only end for you! I will show the traitor the most ghastly hell!
Okay, let's go, all go back. Tell all your men what happened here. Let them know that those who obey me will prosper and those who disobey me will die."
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Chapter 229: The Incarnation of Fear
Chessonisus
Horus sat on top of a gloomy throne of countless skeletons and fangs, his young and handsome face cloudy, completely occupied by blood pupils, irregularly wavering haphazardly. Wide five fingers. Gently rubbing that by the mammoth tusks, carved the armrests of the throne.
The Goths came south and migrated from the far north. Their homeland, a land of pine forests, snow-capped mountains, and icy seas together, is a land of extreme cold, with horrible frost giants, occupying the top of the food chain.
They tamed the horrific bears hunting in the forest. Riding the terrifying mammoth in the earth, driving the hideous white dragon in the sky, summoning the huge whale in the sea.
Unfortunately, the frost giants are gathered together as a family unit, each fishing and hunting. They do not have a unified nation or tribe. There are also few signs of joining forces. The Goths relied on numerical superiority and could hold an island located on the ice sea, defending their home territory until the horrible white plague came, only to completely crush the pastures and fields, forcing everyone to migrate south.
And the presence of the old Horus, most of them have witnessed, and even participated in the war against the frost giants, the destructive power of an adult dragon, they have a more profound understanding than the centaurs.
After some arguments, the wolves decided to send someone to see the situation first, before making a decision. They formed an expeditionary force of about twelve hundred elite marauders, carrying out a large amount of freshly harvested winter wheat, as well as salted fish, and launched a small-scale expedition under the leadership of Abaddon.
On the other hand, Peinhus led a thousand-strong force composed entirely of descended soldiers of the Golden Cushion, each carrying two steeds, carrying the corresponding food and provisions, and charging at full speed toward the Fortress of the Dragon's Throat.
---------- ------
"Centaurs! Centaurs! There's a fight, Waagh!!!"
The orc scouts, who were in charge of the garrison, felt the earth trembling beneath their feet, and immediately let out a roar of surprise when they looked at the smoke and dust in the distance. The big and strong tyrannical brats beat heavy war drums, blowing the horns of the bull, a large dark green ocean, immediately poured out of the long broken castle, cheering to kill the people and horses.
The green skin's bones, flowing with the gene of war and violence, belongs to the type of three days without fighting all over. The orc army, under the chieftain's orders, holding the fortress, has long been idle and irritable, and when they saw the horses and men, they were immediately excited and glowing, trampling on the ruined walls, and rushing out of the city in great numbers.
Five hundred round riding Scrooge, carrying five hundred assault boys in light leather armor, the left hand raised a leather-covered wooden shield to protect their fragile faces and necks, the right hand, holding flat captured spears, or machetes tied to long sticks, ordered the crotch Scrooge to spread his legs and launched a piggyback charge directly against the men and horses without any rules.
"These greenskins aren't so scary without a wise chief leading the way ------ Pull back! Draw them in."
Looking at the two-eyed, greedy and bloodthirsty assault boys, the horses immediately retreated under the leadership of Pinehurst, they flew while twisting their nimble waist backwards, to the orc cavalry, pouring out a rain of rounds of terrifying arrows covering the sky, so that the orcs in the blood and pain, gradually lose their minds.
"WAAAGH!!!"
Looking at the constantly retreating army of centaurs, the assault boys let out an angry roar, to fight head-on, ah, running away from what ability? Their thick legs, constantly kicking the mounts underneath them, forcing them to speed up and speed up, but unknowingly, the distance between the two thousand orc infantry, bigger and bigger.
The pale warlock chanted an arcane spell, the arrow bag suddenly burned blue arcane magic fire. When the second incantation is over, two next to each other animal skin arrow bag, and ejected countless red hot fire, blue, red, two different colors, different effects of the fire entangled with each other, burning, and finally, overlap for a purple horror flames.
The big chief bent his bow and shot a metal arrow burning with purple flames. Let it accompanied by a creepy whistling sound, in the air cut a hideous arc, under the double arcane enchantment, the arrow cluster directly shot through the orc's hooded wooden shield, with the light leather armor, hard nail bite in his green chest. The purple flames, but also in the depths of the green flesh and blood, blazing.
Seeing that the opponent's cavalry and infantry were sufficiently disconnected, Peinhers waved his banner and the whole army, under the coordinated orders of ten centurions, made a slight change. The centurions on both flanks ordered their men to slow down, so that the formation of the men and horses became a huge "C" shape. Gradually, they surrounded the cavalry unit.
The big chief bent his bow and set his arrows. Rapidly firing arrows of blazing fire, every three seconds, the sky will cross a blazing purple arc, there will also be an orc cavalryman, along with the spattering of blood fall off the mount.
The bone-chilling fire pierced his armor and skin, searing his flesh and hair. However, the green-skinned boy did not scream a few times before he was trampled into a bloody mess by the hordes of Scrooge behind him.
"Woo! Woo!"
Seeing these savage and bloodthirsty orc cavalry, have fallen into their trap, several heralds immediately blew a high, sharp charge horn.
These riders and war horses, perfectly fused together in a terrifying creature, with an extraordinary agility, quickly reversed their running direction, they put away the long bows in their hands, picked up a slender war halberd from their backs, from the left, right and front, three directions, and rushed wildly towards the greenskins' cavalry!
"Whew--"
Suddenly, along with the distortion of light, in the eyes of the orcs and Scrooge, the pale centaur, suddenly transformed into a ghastly beast of eerie evil, the monster's massive body blotting out the sky, a pair of giant dragon's fleshy wings, the slightest flapping, can roll up a biting gale.
The most terrifying thing was his head - it was a giant octopus magnified countless times, only to see that this evil beast, which appeared out of thin air, emitted an ear-piercing whistle like a landslide! The terrifying wave of sound raised the eight flesh and blood tentacles on its jaws to reveal an abyssal mouth with layers and layers of sharp fangs!
The sudden horrific sight, immediately the orcs and Scrooges scared enough, the green boys are okay, the burning will to fight, barely resisted the sudden horrific vision, while those Scrooges, directly scared foaming at the mouth, or fainted on the ground, the cavalry fell out of the saddle, or stop the charge, turn around and run!
The already disorganized green war formation became even more chaotic.
Pinehurst raised his halberd flat and raised his speed to the maximum. The four long and robust hooves of the horse, into four pale shadow, weighing a ton of terrifying mass, when running at great speed, the kinetic energy generated, all converge on the sharp tip of the spear, the metal spearhead, as if destroying, tearing the wooden shield, leather armor, deep into the chest of an orc boy!
"ROAR!!!"
By the green skin blood, poured a face of Pinehurst, let out a low roar of terror, by virtue of the innate brute strength of the centaur, he raised the halberd in his hand, so that the dying orcs hanging on the tip of the halberd, leaving the saddle of the meat ball, in the air while coughing up dripping blood, while desperately waving their limbs, like a hideous banner that shows death and blood!
Looking at the green skin picked directly in the air by the man-horse, the other assault boys' hearts trembled and their exuberant desire to fight was gradually quenched by fear.
Pinehurst continued to charge forward, he deftly dodged a few slashing long knives, invisible force field armor, also blocked a few sharp spears. The whole man is like a winter storm, hitting heavily on the face of a Scrooge, with the terrifying force of the charge, the red flesh lumps, as well as the green skin on it, knocked away into mid-air!
"BOOM!!!"
The metal halberd, with a huge green skin corpse, slammed downward, with the advantage of the length of the weapon, Pinehurst a halberd smashed the green skin in front of the obstruction, was penetrated in the spear tip of the orc, at the moment completely silent, along with the swing of the long pole, like a heavy hammer of flesh and blood, smashing, crushing his former compatriots.
The big chief stomped on all four hooves, and the whole man scurried high into the air. The two pale front hooves, suddenly like an abyss of black, emitting wisps of black smoke of death.
An orc tried to raise his shield to defend, but the fragile wooden shield was directly shattered by the hoof of the horse that turned into the face of the abyss, and the terrifying weight of more than two thousand four hundred pounds, directly on his chest, instantly exploded out of a blossom of death mixed with red blood, and black smoke.
"Whew--"
Rushing to the inside of the green skin, the big chief of the loss of kinetic energy began to cast a spell, along with a ghastly pink light, the surrounding temperature began to plummet, with Pinehurst as the center, a radius of about thirty feet of death nova, instantly exploded in all directions! Countless eerie, horrifying pale ghosts, wrapped around the big chief, while flying and hovering, while through the green skin of the flesh and blood body, but also issued a chilling death whistle!
In the center of the green skin erupted from the aura of shock, completely destroyed their will to fight, orcs and Scrooges were frightened and panicked, like headless flies everywhere, but the three sides of the half-human half-horse, like a train of high-speed chariots, rammed into their bodies!
A halberd, penetrating the flesh and blood of the green skin, charging again and again, smashing the orcs' bodies. The few lucky ones left tried to escape, but, under the rain of arrows from the centaurs, they had no way to escape and ended up as bloody hedgehogs, falling in a pool of blood that touched the eyes.
"WAAAGH!!!"
After almost all the cavalry fell, the vast orcish infantry, like a green sea, killed the centaur's heels. However, these bulky guys, can not catch up with the speed of the centaurs, blood rage barbarians swarmed, a call and scattered, divided into ten lines, while pulling away, while the green skin pouring down a rain of terrifying arrows!
Another burning purple arc, like a meteor, crossed the blue dome of the sky, accompanied by a chilling sound of breaking air, accurately penetrated the brow of a big guy, so that the terrifying to the extreme arcane magic fire, inside the skull of the orcs, burning.
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Chapter 230: Initial Formation
Terrifying arrow rain blinds the sky, dense hoof prints shake the mountains and earth.
Centaurs under the leadership of the big chief, completely abandoned the previous by virtue of size and strength advantage, charging a wave of fighting style, instead, like some treacherous and cunning orc chief, playing the Parthian tactics, they surround the loss of mobile power of the orc army, and constantly bend the bow and arrow.
The crashing and trembling of the bowstring, the whistling of the arrows, and the miserable wailing of the orcs, entwined and mixed into an excellent ode to death.
After the initial chaos, the greenskins finally formed a defensive array amidst the shattering roar of a large man. They raised their shields high to defend against the roaring arrows, but the powerful composite longbows shot iron arrow clusters that struck the shields every time, causing these orcs' arms to feel a soreness.
"It's about four hundred feet too far away."
Peinhus frowned as the huge lump of dark green flesh mountain, holding a broken wagon aloft as his shield, hid in the middle of the orcs and gave orders. If you want to destroy the enemy's chain of command, then you have to prioritize the other side's leader.
Terrifying nightmare scenes, once again exposed in front of the green skin, towards their own galloping white horse, instantly turned into a, as if only exist in the nightmare of the swallowing beast, along with no regular, beat of the sky-shattering drums, tormenting every green skin's ears and eyeballs, countless flesh and blood tentacles dancing with the wind, countless sharp teeth and claws, greedily devouring everything around them!
The horrific visions of death once again broke the psychological defenses of the orcs, they screamed, roared, and fled in all directions in fear, barely building a shield wall, and immediately made a mess.
Three hundred feet!
The blood-soaked Great Chief, let out a terrifying roar, and the hideous and ghostly spectral nova, also once again accompanied by cold cryogenic temperature, and ear-piercing shrill whistle, erupted with the warlock as the center!
The pale ghosts, which constantly emitted a horrific shrill, were like an overwhelming wave, instantly engulfing and flooding the orc army, the illusory ghosts, through the arms, chests, and even heads of the greenskins, with their non-existent illusory claws, tearing the flesh and blood of the orcs, the last few soldiers who remained sane, also crumbled and shouted, scattered and set.
Two hundred feet!
Wrapped in an aura of horror, the pale warlock, in the midst of the orc army, as if into no man's land, double fear, almost no orc, can remain sober and sensible beside the great chief, the gold crawlers descend to watch in awe the pale voice, wrapped in a shocking wave of spectral skeletons, tearing through the green skin's defenses.
One hundred and fifty feet!
The arrow target trinket tied to Pinehurst's wrist, suddenly emitted a faint blue light. The world in front of the warlock's eyes, also cut into two versions - the right eye saw the normal war picture, and then the left eye, but saw up to six seconds into the future, insight into the future of the orc big man's every move.
At this time, the two leaders, separated by a distance of less than a hundred feet.
The big chief loosened the bowstring that had been drawn to a full moon, so that an arrow burning with blue magic fire and blazing flames at the same time, crossed a purple burning trajectory in the air, like a meteor, and penetrated the forehead of the big one!
"ROAR!!!"
The lump of moving dark green flesh mountain, coated with a miserable and horrible roar, the blue magic fire of arcane, shattered his skull, so that the metal arrow clusters, deep into the depths of the orc's mind. The high temperature of the fiery flames, burning every nerve of the opponent!
But the big guy's tenacity exceeded the big chief's expectations, and he endured the burning pain of his skull, grasping the wagon in his hands at the same time with both hands, using it as a shield and a siege mallet, and rushing madly towards the men and horses a hundred feet away! Like a bulldozer, he crashed all the way and crushed countless green-skinned boys!
Facing the orc leader who lost his mind in the pain, Peinhus also let out a creepy low roar, not slowing down his charge at all. Meet the enemy head on!
"Whew--"
In the moment of contact between the two, the big chief turned into a disembodied breeze, through the huge wagon, with the huge body of the orc, behind him into a solid, the halberd in his hand, accompanied by a chilling death whistle, into a disembodied ghostly ghost, straight through the heavy armor on the big only man, stabbed through his heart.
A few seconds later, the green giant's painful wailing came to an abrupt end, and the three-meter-tall body, like a mountain range of flesh and blood, fell to the ground with a crash, raising a bloody cloud of dust.
Seeing that the sniping was complete, the Nine Devils Golden Crown immediately glowed with pink light, and Peinhus tore open an arcane doorway, dispersing his aura of horror and leaping into the door - and the next second, he was back at the centaur's side.
The greenskins were dumbfounded with surprise, and their jaws almost fell to the ground. Their leader, who was hiding in the middle of the army, was just like that, slaughtered?
After the loss of the top leader, several dozen orcs, immediately began to give almost completely opposite orders, there are a few naive, and even fought over the vacant leadership position!
The lower boys, the soldiers were at a loss, not knowing exactly whose orders to follow. Some impatient greenskins even took the initiative, jumping out of the safety of the shield wall, banging their weapons on their shields while charging the centaurs to their deaths.
In the end, they all fell halfway along with the dense feathered arrows that covered the sky.
---------- ------
Pinehurst again touched the arrow pouches behind him, but caught an empty one - two pouches, 60 arrows, all depleted. The rain of arrows beside him thinned out at a rate visible to the naked eye, until it fell silent.
In just five minutes, the centaurs, at an average speed of one arrow per six seconds, poured down nearly 100,000 sharp feathered yarns on thousands of orcs. This horrific catharsis of firepower was enough to make any army collapse, and nearly half of the orcs, shot into hedgehogs, collapsed in a pool of blood.
The remaining remnants of the defeated army were also wounded and bruised, and their arms, which were tied to their shields, were so sore that they could hardly move under the vibrations caused by the constant knocking of the arrows.
And at this time, the arrow exhausted centaur army, once again sounded a high-pitched mournful trumpet sound, the barbarian soldiers have put away the hands of the composite long bow, flat raised a sharp halberd, accompanied by the sky shaking battle roar and hoofbeats, from all sides, towards the green skin launched a death charge!
---------- ------
"The will of most of the warriors, which is not very strong, after facing the fear directly, almost all of them scattered and set in fear."
After a round of charge, the orcs completely routed, weighing a ton, running, almost five times the speed of infantry half-man and half-horse, in the routed army like no man's land, under the pig rush, not to mention weapons, slightly next to their galloping body, will be accompanied by a harsh line of blood, was knocked into mid-air.
The blood rage centaurs killed with abandon, depriving the greenskins of their lives. Cutting off their ears as proof of their merit, while the Great Chief, standing comfortably by, pondered his tactical ideas.
The last battle of weeping rain, their best bow and arrow, in the rainstorm completely unusable, the will of the golden crawler forbidden guards and as firm as steel, both sides are the same people, the advantages of their specialties completely unable to play. At one time let themselves fight some doubt life. However, this battle with the green skin, let him regain his confidence.
The composite longbow, energized by terrifying power and double spells, is enough to shoot through the crudely made barbarian chain armor. The group fear of necromancers can also tear apart and break through the flesh and blood defense line formed by warriors. Perfectly match the war characteristic of centaur riding and shooting and charging.
If the enemy general is unusually agile, grasping the enemy machine can predict each other's movements, if he is clad in heavy armor, swords and spears, the art of ghost strike, can also make his armor, into a scrap of paper.
After the pale centaur picked out a few spells based on elven books, scrolls, and incorporated them into his own bloodline, Pinehurst's fighting style, of sorts, took shape.
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