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Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six: The Voice of Misunderstanding
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Glory of Skerritt
Time moved forward slightly. After the all-night party, the chiefs held their aching foreheads from the hangover in the evening, woke up leisurely, and began to divide the spoils. The sacred fire was completely extinguished, and the three clans were revoked. The remaining 8,000 people and their property were like a large piece of fragrant and delicious lamb chops, which made the nine chiefs coveted.
"I don't want to expand the population of the clan, and don't accept anyone. Correspondingly, I will take an extra share of the material and property of the Holy Fire." An Ran of Tasmar groaned in pain, several young and handsome elven male favorites , Quickly picked up the chief's dark hair and gently massaged her white forehead to relieve the pain caused by the hangover.
"The Bloodfury clan is just the opposite. We don't want the weapons and equipment of the priest, nor the gold and silver treasures stolen. However, we need a large number of clan disbanded and homeless brothers and sisters to join the bloodfury banner." Hess was accompanied by Christina and said calmly. In this era, the brewing technology was inferior, and the alcohol content was not very high, and he barely touched his own death line.
Sacred Fire and his party were the last clan to enter Gredinian, the rich village, and the huge herd, which had already been looted by other monsters. The Glory of Skerrit is a small port fortress with a prosperous fishing industry but no livestock. As a result, the poor nomads are going to die and eat salted fish every day.
The extreme shortage of food is also one of the important reasons why Ka'an is eager to declare war.
However, Tasmar raised a large number of goblins and elves. They did not have enough resources and food to continue to expand their clan. Therefore, they needed some rather sophisticated weapons and armors from the priest.
Bloodfury is the opposite. As the first Centaur clan to sack the peninsula, their livestock population has expanded to a terrible number, that is, the clan population, which suffered heavy damage during the war. Important grazing work needs to rely on the Goths and the Caucasus. Dogs are needed to complete, a large population is urgently needed.
After a large-scale controversy of frontal wrangling and secret bribery, the Bloodfury clan gave up all the gold and silver treasures, and got 1,600 adult horses and 800 immature horses. The size of the clan was three times larger than in the heyday. The other clans also got what they wanted with satisfaction.
However, in the end, there are still a thousand celebrities who have not decided to belong. Although the livestock and food of other clans are not as scarce as Tasmal, they are not much more. Suddenly joining so many members, internal stability is also a headache. And Toria's Jinlu clan has five figures. The internal population is too saturated, and she is not interested in receiving more members.
Of course, this kind of secret transaction like a slave trader is absolutely impossible to tell the outsiders. The council will use various high-sounding reasons to assign those who have no clan to the chiefs in accordance with the agreement reached at the meeting. .
"There are a thousand people left, and the blood is going to be angry."
Painhurs secretly calculated the number of livestock within the clan, cruelly, and spoke again. There are a large number of Gothic barbarians within the clan, all inclusive of the prosperous fishing ports in the southern coastal area, and countless fish are caught every day. With this labor force...No, I mean brothers and sisters, all the barbarians responsible for grazing and farming are sent to the fishing port to work, which can barely afford it.
"Do you want more? Don't be too greedy, pale horse." Toria frowned, there was something in the words. "As far as I know, the Bloodfury clan has a population of only nine hundred, and it has expanded to four thousand in a short period of time. With such a big appetite, are you not afraid to choke? Some things need to be done within your means."
"Our clan's internal affairs, don't bother you." Christina scrambled. Since there is an irreconcilable conflict between the two parties, there is no need to continue to be arrogant.
"Huh!!!"
When the two chiefs were fighting each other, the curtain of the tent was suddenly opened, and two sweaty scouts rushed into the meeting in a panic, shouting in horror under the incomprehensible gaze of the chiefs. "Troll! Sartre! A coalition of monsters is approaching the fortress!"
Toria lowered her head and pondered for a while, but the other clans did not have enough food and continued to expand. My clan has suddenly increased by one-tenth of its population. It is really unnecessary to say that this mess is big or small, and it is not necessary to harm others and harm yourself. Forget it, let the blood anger play by yourself! The population has suddenly quadrupled, and I want to see how they balance internal conflicts!
"But... our territory is too turbulent. From the Glory of Skerrit to the northern grasslands of Iron Peak Fort, there are too many monster clans moving and wandering. In order to let the three thousand newcomers, follow you People of this tribe have a higher degree of tacit understanding and sense of identity. The task of cleaning up those alien races is left to you. Of course, we will also provide support to a certain extent."
"Deal."
"Very well, silly rebirth monster, and Sao hoof playing with the flute, right? Kill them."
Chief Jinlu finally endured the pain of not being drunk, and forced a calm face, showing a painful expression for the first time. The guard beside him quickly presented a huge wooden box.
With a light wave of Toria's left hand, she saw countless verdant vines, entwining her elegant and handsome body like a poisonous snake. Countless fixed-position vines continued to dance with her slender and twisted green body. Grabbing a piece of golden curved wooden boards, arm them on the six limbs of the descendants of God. Including a golden mask decorated with huge antlers on both sides and countless exquisite patterns carved on the front.
The entire dressing process does not exceed five seconds.
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Outside the city, accompanied by Sartre's bard, the majestic whistle sound, the troll roared, aggressively killing the patrolling troops. The scout Jinlu just wanted to open his bow to meet him, but the sound of the flute filled with mana had already reached their ears!
The black and white night scene in front of me, like a calm lake, was thrown into a stone, rippling waves, and when the shaky and distorted visions were all dispersed, the enchanting woman with sheep's hoofs in the distance turned into a high above the ordinary day. , The unsmiling chief Jinlu, and also scratched his head at himself, blooming an ambiguous smile.
"The Bard's Melody Illusion..." The scout tried to get rid of the interference of the hallucinations, but the hallucinations displayed by the other party were too fascinating, and that was the chief that could not be touched in normal days! Even if it was a dream, the scout couldn't help but want to finish it.
At this moment, the troll roaring "Oli Gai" was less than fifty feet away from them.
"That's an illusion, an illusion! I will wake up!" Some determined men screamed in desperation. While shooting dense sharp feather arrows to hinder the troll's charge, they tried to awaken the compatriots who had fallen into their dreams. .
However, more glamorous half-humans and half-goats joined the battlefield. They took out the clarinets around their waists one after another. One could not control two, and two could not control the group! Hundreds of shepherd flutes play a gentle and evil seductive melody at the same time. The sound of miracle hovered over the battlefield, unable to dissipate for a long time.
Looking at the imposing troll tribe in front of me, I looked at the "Golden Foot Chief" created by the illusion technique beside me, gently touching his face, even the most determined veteran gradually gave up resistance and was in a gentle environment. , Tremblingly threw down the longbow in his hand.
At this time, the trolls were only twenty feet away from them!
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Chapter 127: Night Moon Wild Hunt
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Seeing those trolls with green body and a layer of moss on their bodies, they raised the wooden sticks in their hands aloft. The men and horses whose lives were threatened, like the first awakening of a big dream, finally broke free of the fragrant fantasy. But it was too late, the huge monster covered with dark green crusty skin had already killed them in front of them!
"boom!!!"
The trolls laughed arrogantly and smashed the sticks in their hands. However, the sea breeze did not hear the familiar sound of a broken head, and the blood flowed across, the rotten monster looked intently-the sweaty horse in front of him had four hooves slightly bent, his hands raised, his whole body was trembling slightly— -Although somewhat reluctant, these half-man and half-horse, which are slightly inferior to the trolls, still use their hands to catch their own powerful blow!
"Roar!!!"
The angry troll opened his ghastly blood bowl, and a strong stench that seemed to be mingled with thousands of grievances came out of his nose. The smoked scout hurriedly held his breath. The next second, the giant The devil turned his neck and bit his opponent's left shoulder fiercely. The sharp fangs were deeply immersed in the scout's flesh and blood, splashing with bright blood-colored waves.
And the battlefield scout was not to be outdone. She endured the pain of sex and drew the long sword around her waist, accompanied by a terrifying sound of tearing flesh and blood, sharp blades, directly Stabbed into the opponent's left chest!
Unfortunately, the sharp pain in the shoulder still affected the veteran's ability to judge. The long sword hit the troll's ribs with a heavy blow, without piercing the opponent's heart.
Receiving this fatal blow, the troll hurriedly loosened his jaw, with a mouthful of blood, and pulled a distance from the human. After a round of confrontation, both sides suffered serious trauma, and the scout vigilantly took out a clean piece of sheepskin. , Covering the bloody left shoulder, but the troll's wound is healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"The troll is in charge! Retreat! When you just shouted the slogan, the enemy was almost alarmed! Someone of them will report it! The army inside the castle is assembled and is coming out of the city!"
"It's really disappointing!"
The leading troll warrior, relying on his proud regeneration ability, let the opponent's spear pierce his abdomen. At the same time, his dark green horror claws grabbed the body of another scout with a thunder and thunder, and with a strong pull, he directly tore off the opponent's right arm and half of his shoulder. !
Listening to the enemy's painful wailing, the troll lifted the flesh and blood to the top of his head, pouring down countless torrents of blood, bathing himself in the scarlet rainstorm, and letting out a crazy roar!
"Alright! Boys! Enough fun, retreat! Retreat!"
"The descendants of AlanNure God's choice! Hold them! The parliament army is about to arrive! Don't even think of leaving!"
The scout captain's angry bow and arrow shot out the Wildhammer clan. The barbed feather arrow tied with twine, the sharp iron cluster, penetrated the last troll's flesh and blood, and the hideous barb was also stuck in his calf. The space between the fibula and the tibia.
The Centaur was about to pull the hemp rope back, but Satyr's seductive and devastating voice remembered again! An ethereal and beautiful ketone body made them fascinated by dreams again, and stopped for the second time, and watched the enemy go away-hell, the troll didn't see it rotten, it was soaked in grease, so slippery. The hemp rope, simply chopped off his calf, and after pulling out the arrow, in front of everyone, he put the leg together again!
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"It doesn't make sense. These monsters have two detection capabilities. Before the army left the city, they observed this fact and then retreated in a hurry. But, what is their motivation? Grabbing food? With that kind of detection ability, they simply retreat. Will not act on a terrorist army with a scale of over ten thousand. This logic does not make sense."
Leading the army rushed to an empty Tolia, looking at the messy footprints extending to the end of the field of vision, lost in thought. The golden scouts, who had escaped from their dreams, stood in a row awkwardly, wishing to bury their heads in the ground, and did not dare to look directly at the true descendants of God.
"According to these scouts, the opponent is a coalition of Sartre and trolls. The combination of these two races is extremely rare. And the scale has reached a terrifying scale." Abhors took care of his hair suspiciously, The whole hair was combed into long slender pigtails, and then tied back into a single ponytail full of youthfulness-he drank the most yesterday, and he was still in a disheveled, half-awake state of drunkenness during the meeting.
"That said, the other party just wants to harass us? Why? What good is this for them?" The chief of the Stormpike clan rubbed his head in confusion, unable to understand this weird behavior.
"Who knows... Chiefs, please gather your most elite scouts, track them far away, and detect the retreating monsters! If possible, catch a few alive and come back for interrogation, leaving the army on guard! Toria took off her antler mask and rubbed her white forehead vigorously. Try to relieve the double headache caused by hangover and thinking.
"Christina, you go to gather those newcomers to the clan. This is the most important thing right now. As for this investigation mission, I will complete it." Painhurs whispered softly in his lover's ear. Immediately bent bows and arrows, and Kuronia, with dozens of elite predators, and the six remaining druids, followed the footsteps and proceeded cautiously to the west.
The pale horse prefers to work with the leader of the predators than the two reckless men of Luga and Caen. Although he is a bit greedy, he is sinister and cunning, and efficiency is paramount. Long-range archery is never close to hand-to-hand combat, and the ability to lead crowd fights is never singled out.
After hearing the order, other clans also sent a large number of druids, predators, and a mixed scout team to participate in this tracking operation. At a time, hundreds of eagle partners, like strands of terrifying. The black smoke rushed into the sky, pressing down a large area, almost covering the bright starry sky above the fortress.
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Chapter 129: Spin and jump with eyes closed
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The Centaur was afraid that there were more monster minions hidden behind this coalition army, and did not dare to chase them rashly in the dark, so they had to send countless elite investigative teams to find out.
Sartre and the trolls also feared the huge mixed army of people and horses. Not daring to stop the pace of retreat, turning around to meet the elite scouts far less than their own, so they also sent a few elite to try to cut off the tails stuck behind the army and cover the army's retreat.
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Painhurs galloped under the dim night sky with stars. As a man and horse, his night vision ability is far better than that of human beings. Everything you can see in the dark is like an exquisite sketch drawn by a master, leaving only monotonous black, white and gray.
The vast expanse of grassland has all turned into a full-bodied face of darkness. The dome of twinkling stars is like a curtain of an abyss sprinkled with diamonds. The rest of the scenes are presented in different shades of gray, so that the eyes of night visioners can clearly distinguish their outlines.
And the beings who breathed the air, in the pupils of the pale white horse, became extremely pale like ghosts, and they were particularly conspicuous in this monotonous world that lost its color.
The blood rage predators who also have night vision ability bend their bows and shoot their arrows. Accompanied by the thunderous, deafening sound of the bowstrings, they shot the pale figure with the horns in front of them, and shot the steel that obscured the sky. Arrow.
And Sartre, who was turned over by the bloody sheep, also angrily pulled away the compound shortbow in his hand, shot a dense rain of bone arrows from his back, forced back and hovered in the low altitude, trying to detect his own falcon. A few sharp bone arrows also traversed insidious arcs, hitting ripples in the air in front of Painhurs's vitals.
The pale white horse's knowledge of magic is no longer what it used to be. He can maintain the invisible [Mage Armor] for a full twelve hours, and the flow of arrows and some dark arrows on the battlefield can hardly pose an effective threat to him.
After the two sides shot each other for a round, Sartre suddenly heard a terrifying sound that shook the world, and the sound of countless horses hoofs smashing the earth, like muffled thunder, like a war drum, and dense white shadows, a long piece of it!
"Go! Retreat! Magnus! Go invisible and see how many people are there!"
After all, the vision in the darkness has its limit. The eagle was forced to retreat and shot to death by the rain of arrows, causing the bloody scouts to be unable to estimate the number of opponents. According to the report of the Jinlu scout, this group of Sartre may have three thousand people! There were only a hundred elite predators under their own hands. In a hurry, they had to change their directions, retreat backwards, twist their strong and flexible waists, and perform Parthian archery on the dense horns behind them. The white shadow splashed out a large number of sharp clusters of arrows.
The little devil shrugged, and his whole person disappeared into the night in an instant. He flapped a pair of huge flesh wings, dexterously avoided the arrow rain, and slowly approached to the east. The sound of horseshoes resounding through the sky like thunder, His heart trembled with shock, and his whole body was trembling, but when he took a closer look-the interception troops sent by the other party, after experiencing the baptism of arrows, were even less than a hundred! Those scary sounds are all auditory hallucinations made by bards!
"There are no low-level spells, only low-level mages, right?" After receiving the report from the familiar, Painhurs shrugged silently. This spell is useless. This time, the enemy taught him a lesson.
"The wings spread out! Slow down! Prepare to kill back! Magnus is here to report, the enemy is less than a hundred! Those scary sounds and images are all illusions! I will act according to my actions for a while!" He took out two soft solid like sponges and stuffed them into his ears. The rest of the people followed suit-the bard's auxiliary ability was terrible, but it was limited. As long as the voice was not heard, the other party's melody magic would be useless.
I saw that more than a hundred predators lined up in a row, speeding up in the middle, slowing down on both sides one by one, and gradually forming a scattered and huge pocket shape. Sartre thought that the centaurs were frightened by his mighty lineup. , Fleeing in all directions, gave out a triumphant laugh. Without realizing it at all, his troops slowly fell into the trap of a man and horse and were surrounded on three sides.
Just when the bard was smiling, the man in charge of the blood rage banner, at the sign of the acting chief, quickly shook the bloody skull banner in his hand three times. After seeing the signal, the blood rage man and horse shook their hooves fiercely. With a kick on the ground, the whole person was leaping high while rotating his huge body, completing a 180-degree turn in mid-air, and after landing on four feet, it happened to face Sartre's cavalry unit. Directly launched an unstoppable wild charge!
"AlanNure Skerritt!!!"
Although he couldn't hear it, the predators still used wild roars to lower the morale of the enemy. The centaurs retracted the huge compound longbow in their hands and drew out a heavy javelin with the thickness of a child's arm from their side. Throwing at the half-man and half-sheep surrounded by three sides, a heavy iron javelin, like a stern lightning, tore through the dark night, penetrated Sartre's flesh and skin, and smashed their tendons. Bones, blooming bright blood flowers in the dark night!
There is no such thing as a stirrup these days. Some clans who are backward don't even use a few belts to tie their legs to the belly of their horses to prevent them from falling. The horror power attached to the javelin directly shot down those half-human and half-sheep from horseback, rolled on the ground several times, and passed out directly. Those who were unlucky, were even trampled by their own horses hoof. mud!
"Damn it! Can a galloping cavalry turn like this?! This is simply cheating!!!"
Seeing the revolving and jumping people and horses turning in circles, they slayed aggressively towards him, the bard hurriedly raised the herding flute in his hand and played a seductive and depressing sound, preparing to entice these powerful soldiers and stop attacking. But... the magic melody has no effect on these predators whose ears are blocked. They continue to throw terrifying iron javelins, plundering the fragile lives of the enemy!
Sartre was caught off guard and quickly plunged into the bloody quagmire of close hand-to-hand combat. Their delicate bodies couldn't compete with the strange power of the horses. Their talented rhythm was also blocked by earplugs. As the battle situation turned sharply, they soon fell into the quagmire. One-sided death!
"Catch the live! Go back to the interrogation! You guys take your hands!" Looking at a group of red-eyed predators, they pulled out the scimitar daggers from their waists, and with the help of the invincible charge, On the delicate body of the bard, blood-colored sprays were cut straight into the sky, and Painhurs roared speechlessly.
Hell, those people were wearing earplugs to counter the bard's musical magic, and couldn't hear their commands.
"Okay, I'll catch it myself."
The pale white horse sighed, and dodged a rampaging prairie horse, a coquettish and beautiful Sartre girl, with her silver-haired, slender recurved sheep's hoof, tightly clamped and covered with only a layer of leather On the back of his horse, playing with a sharp machete in his right hand, on the invisible force field shield of the acting chief, he chopped a huge, hideous and terrifying gap.
Pain Hess was unwilling to show weakness. At the moment when the two passed by, an illusory ghostly tentacles, also stretched out of his distorted and blasphemous dark green body, quietly appeared on the left shoulder of the acting chief, and it accurately passed the warhorse's. The belly was injected with dark green ghoul poison into it.
The long bloodstain quickly rotted and purged, exuding a suffocating stench. The galloping horse, stiff, fell directly to the ground, throwing the charming half-man and half-sheep on its back into the high sky. Then it fell to the ground fiercely, raising a large amount of dust.
"Cough—cough—"
The bard, who had broken several bones, struggled to get up from the ground, trying to grab the scimitar that fell to the side, but in the dust, a horrible half-man and half-horse appeared quickly! The pale horseshoes stomped heavily on the hilt of the scimitar, and a sharp spear reflecting the cold moonlight also lightly tapped on the bard's slender neck like a swan.
"Raise your hands! Stop resisting!"
Looking at the awkward Sartre girl under the hoof, the demon face that charmed all living beings showed a desperate expression, raised his hands tremblingly, and gave up resistance. A confident smile appeared on the corner of Painhurs's mouth.
The language teacher does not deceive me. This lingua franca is one of the first conversations I learnt. For centuries, it is indeed more commonly used.
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Chapter 129: Communication Networks Across the Grassland
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The predator leader wearing a black feather cloak, like a terrible falcon hidden in the night, shuttles and wanders on the edge of the chaotic battlefield, shooting sharp feathers and arrows, harvesting the lives of the enemy.
Soon, when he shot through the throat of the third cavalryman, causing the half man and half sheep to cough up blood in pain, and fall off horseback, the two satyrs also locked on the vicious predator leader.
The two of them looked at each other and nodded quite tacitly. The male Sartre warrior wearing leather armor and holding a spear slew towards Curonia from the front. The graceful body of the female bard, also like a ghost, gradually disappeared into the night of battle. Leave a strong steed to gallop and neigh on the battlefield.
"Ok?"
Curonia raised his eyebrows, the sturdy prairie horse, lowered his slender neck to the height of his back, trying to minimize the air resistance when charging at full speed. The Satyr warrior it carried, holding a flint spear over three meters long in both hands, pierced his throat fiercely!
The vicissitudes of face of the predator leader showed a disdainful smile. He murmured something in his mouth, and with a light wave of his huge rough right hand, guiding countless vigorous green light beams, instantly submerged into the horse's body. The rushing prairie horse suddenly stiffened and couldn't do anything except breathe! The sturdy four-hooves that turned into a shadow also stopped running, and the huge body fell to the ground with a horrific weight of more than 1,500 pounds, directly crushing the left leg of the Sartre soldier.
"Do not!!!"
For the stealth effect, the bard, who abandoned her horse and walked on foot, came a step late. She watched her fell to the ground, howling in pain, and let out an angry scream, showing her true shape behind Curonia. With a fierce kick of the sheep's hoof, the whole person rode directly on the brown horseback of the predator leader.
"Damn it! While the earplugs blocked the sound, it also greatly reduced my perception ability! Normally, I have spotted this sneaking monster long ago!"
The bard didn't say much, his white and delicate right arm locked Curonia's throat forever, while his left hand was playing with a sharp iron dagger, and it stabbed the enemy's heart fiercely.
"Huh!!!"
A huge black eagle hovering in the low altitude has already discovered the danger of its owner. As early as when the bard revealed its prototype, it stretched its wings in the air, like a dark meteor, tearing through the dim night sky, and smashed it fiercely. Above the left arm of the left arm!
The sharp eagle claws penetrated Sartre's delicate flesh and skin, cutting off her wrist tendons with precision, making her unable to grasp the sharp dagger and hurt her master.
The bard let out a painful cry, and while giving up on his right arm, he pulled out the other's earplugs. The whole person deliberately fell off his horse, turned a few laps on the grass, and reopened his distance with one person and one eagle. Then, He took out his beloved Mu flute from his waist again, and his delicate lips were getting closer to the black flute mouth.
But the predator leader is faster! When the other party loosened his neck, he chanted the second spell, the endless green pasture turned into a blue giant python that was dancing wildly, wriggling, spinning, roaring, and spreading his teeth and claws. Travel poet.
Dozens of the strongest pastures twisted their huge bodies, piercing directly into Sartre's warm and moist mouth, and extending down her throat, roughly interrupting the opponent's spellcasting and singing.
How could the delicate throat withstand the torture of rough grass? Disgusting nausea continued to surge, and the bard fell to his knees, painfully rolling his eyes, let alone fighting, even standing up became a luxury.
Taking this opportunity, Curonia turned around, raised his sturdy and slender horseshoes high, controlled his strength, and accurately trampled on her white back neck. The opponent turned his eyes and passed out directly.
"Huh-it's so dangerous, I almost capsized in the gutter."
The predator leader let out a long sigh of relief and touched his black eagle affectionately. After wiping the cold sweat from the sideburns, he skillfully cut the tendons of the hands and feet of the two Satyrs and found all the weapons and equipment. The binding was tight, and it was carried on his back.
At the same time, the battle ended completely under the overwhelming advantage of the Centaur.
"Retreat, retreat! Return to the fort before the enemy's reinforcements arrive! The other clans are doing the tracking task. It's not bad for us. It's enough to catch so many prisoners and go back to torture!" Painhurs took off his earplugs, and the breeze was light. The sound of rubbing across the grassland once again sounded in the ears, and the world around him became clear again.
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Just as Sartre and the troll mercenaries performed their tasks of harassing and containing the main force of the council, the terrifying wolf sea regrouped! Horus led a total of 10,000 soldiers and half-life werewolf veterans, and more than 50,000 Gothic Xinding who can kill enemies and be responsible for food and grass. Along the southern coast, they smashed to Diodosia. Very close.
In the Cangqing Wolf King's prediction, it would take at least two days for the people to figure out what happened. It would be even more difficult to get rid of Sartre's harassment, and the journey back would be a long one. despair.
I can definitely regain the important granary of the kingdom before their reinforcements arrive!
However, Horus never expected that after the dead poets returned to the council, the communication capabilities of the horses had a qualitative leap. Toria was reluctant to send these hundreds of bards to the battlefield and handed them over to one of them. Easier and more important task-acting as a signal base station and communication tower.
The Glory of Diodosiya and Skerrit is less than a hundred kilometers away, and there are about ninety-three wooden guard towers evenly distributed along the road. In each tower, there is a gorgeous bard who is carefully protected in the center by dozens of hardened and heavy armored soldiers.
They have long understood the second-ring magic [Wind Xun Shu]. The low-level poets of the dead can probably spread the news one kilometer away, while the elite core members can increase this distance to 1,500 meters, or even higher!
Just after the scout brought back the news that the Wolf King's soldiers were approaching Odosia, the dead poet who stayed in the city immediately mixed the news in a magical storm and blew the news to the nearest guard tower, the inside of the guard tower. The dead of poetry also displayed the [wind information technique], throwing the news verbatim to the second bard in the north, then the third, the fourth...something similar to children's communication games.
The horrible news was transmitted to the north along the wooden tower of the Jinlu clan. A few hours later, the news of Horus soldiers approaching the city was blown to the parliament by the violent wind, and the chiefs were frightened and defeated!
"A large-scale werewolf army appeared in the rear! Suspected as the main Gothic force, return quickly!!!"
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Chapter 130: White Horse VS Grey Wolf (1)
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There is no way to hide such a large army of werewolves walking on the vast southern pastures. The people responsible for staying behind Diodosiya quickly sent a large number of elite scouts to harass and restrain Horus' marching speed, while others took the opportunity to drag the livestock to the fortified city and wait in full battle.
The council has already thickened the width of the top of the city wall with a large number of planks and pillars, and built some huge slopes on the inner side, which barely allows horses to walk on the city wall, draw bows and shoot arrows condescendingly.
The entire group of people and horses gathered under the city wall. Under the guidance of the flying partner, they shot rounds of sharp arrows that covered the sky and the sun, making the sky full of sharp arrows, accompanied by a creepy howling. The sound, like a pouring rain, fell on the head of the black wolf tide, splashing sorrowful blood sprays.
"The wall race is okay."
Horus was speechless for a while, temporarily stopped the charge, led his men, and quickly retreated outside the opponent's shooting range.
If you attack directly, you might break the stone wall of Diodosia. But in that case, the army will definitely suffer heavy losses and sacrifice their precious forces in vain.
The main force of the centaur is still in the north, and the Kerch Peninsula to the east has green skins all over the mountains... Therefore, the Cangqing Wolf King chose to temporarily avoid the edge and use another relatively safe style of play.
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"What's going on, why is the mess outside?"
Herniwell, who was doing nothing and slept in the house, was awakened by the sound of the sky-shaking horns of the people and races. The drow moved his graceful body, and got up lazily from the bed, just as dark as himself. Jade-like delicate and tender skin, put on a white sheepskin coat, came outside the house suspiciously.
The strong color impact of black and white makes her more glamorous and enchanting. She has long beautiful silver hair, like countless soft willow branches, hanging softly and softly near Herniwell's smooth and delicate ankles. The wind shook gently.
Centaur is a creature that attaches great importance to education and the inheritance of knowledge. Although the soldiers were uncomfortable with this black-skinned elf, she did teach the bloody people a lot of empire general knowledge, and the cultural knowledge of the elf, and even taught a powerful pale warlock hand in hand. She also won some respect within the clan.
"The werewolf went northward while the army was fighting!" a blood rage warrior said in a panic. "Quick! Black skin! Go to the city wall to resist the enemy, your magic is very important!"
"Wait, you mean werewolves? Those Gothic barbarians infected with the animalized plague?"
The drow's drowsiness dissipated most of the time, and a deep chill hit her smooth back.
Hell, those Goths are veterans of naval warfare! Centaur does not have the concept of naval warfare, but when he was fighting under the banner of Quintuchus, he had seen their offshore fleet with his own eyes. This is another seaport city...
Thinking of this, Herniwell hurriedly tore open an arbitrary door, teleported to the top of the house, and looked out nervously to the south-just as she expected, countless white sails appeared at the end of the horizon where the sea and the sky meet, dark and dim. Hundreds of hard Gothic wooden boats float on the surface of the sea! On the tall mast, hung a cyan ferocious wolf flag!
"Quick! Call back all the bloodraged soldiers! The sea! The werewolf launched an attack from the sea!!!" The drow screamed out loud. "Go to the Wind Howl clan and bring some elemental warlocks over! Everyone will die if the port is lost!"
"I'm going now!!!"
Seeing the blood rage messenger who hurriedly went away, Herniwell clenched her charming red lips. Her luck was really bad recently. First, she was stuffed into the cold water tank by the bear goblin, and then by the horses. The big five flowers are tied to the back of the horse-is it the next turn of the werewolf's iron cage...
"Spider goddess, please protect your most pious people, and don't play with my destiny." The female warlock lowered her head slightly and temporarily hugged a spider leg, and slew a small group of bloodrage predators towards the noisy port.
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Abaddon stood proudly on the bow of the Gothic flagship, listening to the sound of the surging tide, grinning his slender and ferocious black wolf kiss, revealing two rows of sharp fangs, from the depths of the throat, roaring There was a terrifying howl of a terrible wolf.
Fifty flat-bottomed warships, plus more than 300 fishing boats, sailed out from every city and port on the western coast, gathered, gathered under the green wolf flag of Horus, and rushed into Greding. The southern coast of Nian.
This fleet carried a total of 3,000 bloodthirsty werewolves, half of which were brothers and sisters who accompanied Horus to the birth and death, and the other half were transformed spear guards and dreary fighters. They are wearing heavy armor, with shields tied to their arms, and equipped with a large number of super long spears and two-handed battle axes. Some people even carry a small pound crossbow to make up for their long-range shortcomings.
According to the plan, Horus's main force will contain the centaurs and guards around the city wall. His own elite army will land from the port, burn the city, create chaos, and insert a sharp knife into the enemy's heart. The sharp knife, the inside and the outside, recapture this prosperous and beautiful coastal city.
"Hey! Isn't that our compatriot? There are some unblessed Goths on the centaur?" Halken raised his claw strangely and scratched his face covered in black fluff.
At this moment, there are many simple fishing boats floating on the sea. Goth slaves of the Bloodfury clan are driving them to fish along the coast. At this moment, they are scared to death by the werewolf, and they flee to the port desperately.
"Huh! Those cowards have already succumbed to the enemy's horseshoes. Don't worry about them until the war is won. Commander, no, your Majesty's victory cannot be postponed by a single cent. Paddle at full speed! Those slaves, maybe they will. Report our existence to their masters!"
Abaddon gave orders arrogantly. The werewolves in charge of paddling, waving their thick and furry arms more vigorously, their mouths opened wide, their scarlet tongues twitching constantly at a frequency of ghosts, breathing. Despite the dripping sweat, like a waterfall, it gurgled down from the mouth of the blood basin full of fangs.
"Dump the grease!"
But at this time, Herniwell also assembled enough fighters. During this period, the council slaughtered many chickens, ducks, pigs, geese, and Goths that could not be grazing, and also caught a large number of marine fish, and the oil reserves in the city reached its peak. At this moment, they poured these golden viscous liquids into the interior of the sea, and let the ebb waves roll them far away. When the Abaddon fleet arrived, the sea near the port was already wearing a piece of golden light. Brand new clothes.
Herniwell grabbed a small sulphur ball from the package. The dark yellow sphere swayed back and forth in the dark and smooth palm of the drow. Suddenly it floated out of thin air, burning out a fiery flame, that manic flame. It grows bigger and bigger, and finally expands into a dazzling sun the size of a calf, dragging a scorched black tail flame, and bursting apart on the grease-filled sea!
"boom!!!"
No one can describe the magnificent beauty in front of you. Accompanied by a loud noise, the fiery fireball burst into masses of magnificent and extremely beautiful fire clouds. The tyrannical shock wave engulfed countless sparks and spattered around like fireworks. Instantly ignited the golden grease on the sea.
The blazing flames, like countless scarlet pythons, shuttled across the sea, winding their flaming blood-colored body. The monstrous flames instantly filled the entire coastal waters!
Endless fires rose into the sky, and the black choking smoke rushed into the sky!
Several elemental warlocks from the Wind Howl clan, with soaring flames reflected in their pupils, were also stunned by the magnificent sea of fire in front of them. The grease on the waves drifted towards the werewolf's navy.
"This should be able to stop them for a while. I want to defend the port. I need more soldiers..." The drow rolled his eyes, suddenly thinking of something, and quickly rushed into a dilapidated house, slender. His fingers shot a scorching flame ray, and the terrifying heat directly melted the iron chain that locked the door into a pool of red molten iron, slowly dripping onto the ground.
Herniwell pushed open the door, and the soaring fire light shone the dim hut like daylight—there are countless scarred Gothic barbarians. Their hands and feet were bound by hemp rope and could not move. Inside the mouth, it was also bulged with leather, unable to make a single note. Everyone's left cheeks were engraved with a sacred double-ring cross with a sharp blade.
Asana and her punishment priest.