Chapter 20 Pitchfork

No matter how great his achievements are, for Roel, life still has to go on.

Looking south from the reef camp, the dark forests of Musilon, the corrupted plains, huge swamps and surging lakes gradually turned into a dark haze in the setting sun.

What is daily life for night watchmen, but how crazy is it in the eyes of farmers?

The wet wind blowing from the coast makes people feel cold, but the autumn season is an eventful day. Whether they are Yankees or others, they all hope to get something more from Bretonnia before winter.

Roel was squatting by the bonfire and chatting to his friends. "This year's harvest day is coming soon, shall we rest during the Holy Grail Festival?"

Ostabe shook his head naturally, and then poured a bottle of brandy down his throat. He was still drunk today, which made people doubt whether he could fight well.

Elf girls are not fickle at all, not to mention their position is also very important.

Roel couldn't help but complain. "Oh, everyone can have a rest, but we can't."

"It seems that the city defense will also deteriorate that day. I really wonder what else will come out of this fringe area?"

Elena, perhaps tired of hearing this, retorted, "If someone hadn't asked a ghoul to smash Maul's statue, I would still be in the forest listening to the stories of the trees."

"I didn't take it seriously at the time..."

Roel shook his finger incomprehensibly. "King Raun said, you are not qualified to make a pitchfork or a farmer."

Erstabe could not refute, so he could only sprinkle his doubts and a trace of anger on the skeleton in front of him. He punched the skeleton with a heavy blow, and the skeleton fell to the ground, but he still found that he punched with all his strength.

It is impossible to break this long-weathered human skull, and one or two is easy, but then there will be 40 more!

Eustabe really believed it, because Roel wrote the article Zou Zou, and felt that the work on the other side was so easy, and his heart was unbalanced. "King Raun is a wise man, so please work harder, Master Pitchfork, I

Go take a rest."

But Erstak naturally smashed the head of a skeleton with two hands behind the bunker, like two small hammers.

Suddenly the skeleton was completely thrown away, and Caracara fell to the muddy ground and fell apart into a ball.

Eustabe replied to him. "Don't be kidding me. If the pitchfork has this power, I won't be a debt collector anymore!"

Elena looked listless. After all, night was not the time for wood elves to be active. Roel did not bring his precious firecracker this time because he had no bullets.

But apparently no one in Bretonnia believes in such heretical theories. A pitchfork is just a pitchfork.

Eustabe blushed with his skinny zombie face. "More, do we still have that thing?"

When the night gradually darkens, a large number of undead begin to move. If it were just the wind of death and the corruption of the undead, the dead that would be born would at best be ghouls and zombies.

"Wow~ did you load the pitchfork with explosives?"

The rib that was hit by the thatch fork was directly broken into two halves, and Eustabe showed a surprised expression at this moment, because he knew very well how hard human bones are.

At this moment, about 50 skeletons were slowly approaching, but Roel immediately asked Elena to leave. "Go to the other side of the river and see if there is a mage casting a spell. It should be impossible to escape like this!"

But today it seems that there will be no show on the opposite side. Skeleton soldiers began to appear one after another tonight. These things are not dead souls like zombies that only resurrect their brains, but completely magical creatures that require the full concentration of the caster to control them.

Roel once again performed the trick of killing the skeleton with a pitchfork, and then said decisively, "Yes, you really quit."

Eustabe waved his hand and walked to the pile of rocks in front of him. This was the place where he originally wanted to use it as a defensive point. It was completely destroyed by the Norscans yesterday.

He raised his pitchfork and walked around like a peasant thug, occasionally making motions of thrusting the pitchfork in.

Elena understood what she was doing, jumped onto the nearby trees, and began to search for traces of the enemy.

And Roel was behind him, relying on the long pole of the pitchfork to plunge into the bones of the skeleton in front of him.

He doesn't act now. The elves don't care about his origins, and Roel already knew it.

Of course, he is not strong enough, fast enough, or experienced enough. Without firearms, he moves like a real farmer.

The skeleton army in the distance looked even more terrifying under the moonlight. They were all very disciplined, because they were controlled by one person, and their movements were uniform.

Because of the high popularity and large scale of peasant troops in Bretonnia, some imperial scholars have judged that in large-scale wars, peasants' pitchforks may kill more enemies than the knight's sword blades and horse hooves.

Roel gave a mysterious answer. "It's not that luxurious. It's just a certain amount of skill, a little luck, and a good enough pitchfork."

Roel's old face turned red. "How do I know that a statue needs to be finished and then sent to the garden to be consecrated by believers for a month before it is useful?"

Maybe it's because he looks like an undead, or Musilon's mutation gave him something. His strength is not impressive, especially his gripping strength. Maybe he is more suitable to be a blacksmith?

"In Musilon, Moore's Garden is a rare place. No one can always guarantee that you will not turn into an undead spirit after death."

Roel pulled him back. "Don't run away, keep working."

There is no doubt that many corpses were found on the opposite side, but the weakness of the skeletons is also obvious. Compared with real soldiers, they are extremely weak, and the power provided by the magical wind is also very poor. Although the formation looks neat,

But the only advantage over zombies is that they won't be carrion supper by dragon leeches in the river.

I couldn't help but feel distressed at this moment, and then I picked up the chisel and continued tinkering.

Eustabe shouted. "Can you teach me?"

Eustabe rubbed his shoulders. "A bottle of brandy, don't mix it with water."

Roel was very dissatisfied when facing this guy who was taking advantage of the fire, but the skeletons obviously didn't want to use their full strength. "Half a bottle!"

Östabe immediately went back to "Deal!"

Afterwards, the two of them looked at the dozens of skeletons in front of them and geared up.
Chapter completed!