The fanatical rat tide seemed to be suffering from epilepsy, twitching and waving the weapons in their hands.
While they were marching like this, they had completely lost the concept of formation. Their pink, moist noses were greedily sniffing the air, and they didn't know whether they were looking for the aroma of human flesh or the aroma of dimension stones.
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The mixed columns of undead and humans watched all this with either indifference or enthusiasm.
The skeletons will faithfully carry out their master's orders, while these barbarians with more or less deformed bodies are thirsty for blood, no matter whose blood it is.
Not much time passed before the two sides collided again.
A bloodthirsty and taunting smile appeared on the barbarian's mouth.
From the lowlands to the highlands, they dared to waste their energy in such a useless way as charging. The rats seemed very willing to sacrifice their heads and blood.
The barbarian at the front waved the ax made of bronze in his hand, and struck it hard on the rat's red helmet with a sharp tip like a blade, which immediately dented the exquisite painted equipment.
Go down.
Using the bronze armor on his chest to block the head-blade attack of the rat, who might have suffered a concussion from the blunt blow just now, the barbarian followed the gap exposed behind the helmet and chopped off the rat's head with an axe.<
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The blood still pumped by the living heart spurted onto his chest, dyeing the golden armor red with blood.
The surrounding undead did not care about possible injuries on their bodies, stabbing silently, turning the rats into corpses in the shortest possible time.
The other barbarians flexibly avoided the rats' attacks that were difficult to react to, using the undead as a cover to flexibly harvest the lives of the rats.
Soon, the rats left twice as many corpses as in the previous retreat.
As the undead human mixed column advances, another victory is about to come.
However, when neither Bonehead nor the barbarians expected, the rat bodies that were about to be used by their masters exploded after a strange sound of wind.
The shrapnel transformed from the armor of the rats was ejected by the black mist generated by the explosion, causing a large area of damage in a large area.
A large number of barbarians were unable to evade and were stabbed into their bodies by these flying metal fragments. The undead were hit by the kinetic energy carried by these large metal fragments and either fell apart or found it difficult to continue moving.
The barbarians and undead who are closer to these rat bombs directly become new biological parts.
This hand is really beautiful, but... Esky took off his glasses, and in his second vision, chaotic energy did appear, but it was not a dimension stone.
At least it won't be the Warlock Engineer's warpstone bomb.
Does the Gray Prophet have any other means to make the rats explode?
The engineer's mind began to think rapidly, but no mortal could get the answer from the unknown.
In any case, this attack is effective enough for the Parliament.
It's not very important how many enemy troops were killed. Even if the rat men crushed the undead in front of them, it would be of no use.
Nagash behind him and his Glory of Nagash cannot be defeated by the rat army.
However, such an attack still has other uses - maintaining the offensive at Cripple Peak is to continue to consume Nagash's magic power. Whether it is resurrecting the undead or controlling the undead, magic power is required.
Maybe it's nothing once, but as long as the number is increased to four, five, or six digits, the amount of magic consumed will become astronomical.
The Council of Thirteen believes that as long as they continue to attack like this, sooner or later, Nagash's magic power will be exhausted by the descendants of the Horned Rat, and then they can easily kill Nagash.
However, the engineering warlocks are quite skeptical about this.
Historically, it has taken a hundred years to achieve no effect. Eski doubts that even if this attack continues for a thousand years, it will not be able to kill the mage who will eventually become a god.
While thinking, the engineer warlock felt another breath, nearby!
He quickly put on the observer, and the green electric light flashed in his hand.
Looking back, it was a large black-haired warlord who seemed to have come out of another passage not far away. There was a smell of decay on his body. From a magical point of view, it smelled like he had been alive for many years.
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The engineer warlock doesn't need to look to know that behind him there must be the Skryre clan's elixir syringe.
"Who are you?"
Out of politeness and the unspoken rules of ratman society - Eski saw the amulet hanging on his waist, which was higher than his camp council amulet. It was given by the Council of Thirteen and was made purely of dimensional stone.
The stuff I made——asked respectfully.
Unexpectedly, the old warlord just mocked.
"The engineering warlocks of the Skry clan are really cowardless people. They only dare to hide here and observe."
Isn’t it the same for you?
The engineer warlock protested in his heart.
"I am Lord Ikrit. For more than fifty years, this great holy war has been directed by me. Now, do you know the greatness of Ikrit? A little engineering warlock who has not grown up yet, oh, actually
And a slave with pointed ears."
The old warlord looked at the engineering warlock and his slaves dissatisfiedly, with a kind of disdain in his eyes
"With such a distance, wouldn't Nagash pose a threat to us?"
The engineer warlock lowered his head and praised the old warlord skillfully.
"It's not surprising for a rat like you to think this way, but, great Ikrit."
As he spoke, he stopped and boasted that his words could no longer be squeezed out of his throat.
He remembered the expedition more than fifty years ago.
Damn, the incompetent scout brought back shocking news for the great Skaven City.
An unprecedented mine was discovered, depositing great sacred stones that the rats could never use up in several lifetimes. The warlord who brought the news also brought back green glowing bones as evidence.
After twenty-five years of civil war over how to distribute the spoils, the Council of Thirteen finally, for various reasons, appointed the great Ikrit to launch an expedition to bring back the treasure to the Council.
At that time, Ikrit, who was stupid and did not affect his greatness at all, excitedly led 50,000 elites and an unknown number of slave rats from the underground network tunnel to this damn place.
The information brought back by the scouts was: "There are only more than a thousand skeletons in the entire mine."
For any clan, this little threat can be ignored, and any warlord's slave rats can easily drown these skeletons.
However...
Thinking that the first batch of warlords who brought back the news only ended up being killed by the Gray Prophets with poisoned wine, Ikrit felt that they were simply too cheap.
When he thought about what happened after that, he felt a twinge in his heart. This severe pain, which did not come from the body, almost made him think that the elixir he had been taking was defective.