"Spread out!! Spread out!! Spread out!! Don't let the noose catch you!!!"
"kill!!!!"
"Ahh!!! Go to hell!!!"
"Have you not eaten yet, little bastard from the south?"
In my ears I heard the roar of the Ranger Cavalry Captain of the First Legion. In front of me was the bloodthirsty and ferocious Freljord bandit. In the distance were the painful wails of the Demacians, and the ground was littered with mutilated corpses.
Facing the purgatory-like scene, Swindel never thought that a broken rope with stones tied at both ends would become such a terrifying weapon.
The legs of horses and soldiers tied by flying ropes will instantly lose the ability to resist, or they will be hit on the head by spinning stones. The horse will fall off the horse and hit his head with blood. The knight who faints on the spot will have his head smashed in the next moment.
The barbarian used a hard mallet to hammer the watermelon into pieces, then the sharp sword was taken away from his hand, and he turned around and chopped down on his own people.
Obviously those barbarian bandits didn't even have a few decent swords in their hands, but they easily killed more than a dozen of their colleagues with just a simple swinging stone zipline and crude wooden sticks. Sventel had a strong sense of the strong and strong people in front of him.
The Freljord bandits felt a little more fearful after experiencing the smell.
The thought in his mind just flashed away. Sventel, who didn't want to die here easily, recalled the riding and slashing skills he learned from the old riders in the military camp. He tensed his right arm, lowered his body, and raised his fine iron sword.
Ready to go, ready to drink blood.
It's a pity that the script did not develop according to the military training, just like the barbarian warriors more than ten meters away would not stupidly wait like a wooden man stake waiting for him to chop him down with his sword.
"Baby of Demacia!! You were not even born when I slept with your grandma's war mother!!"
Seeing a short rider rushing toward him, Ursals smiled, showing a pair of yellow teeth that were missing his front teeth. He swung his right arm, shook his wrist, and twirled the animal leg bone club in his right hand to face him.
Flying towards the horse's head.
"Xilulu!!"
With a cry, the horse that could not dodge was perfectly hit on the head by the rotating bone club, creating a bloody pit directly on the horse's bones. The horse died tragically on the spot.
Swindell was thrown off his horse by the overturned horse. The rookie cavalry turned somersaults on the ground according to the inertia of the body. Although he was dizzy from the fall, he was not injured because his landing movements were too standard.
His meticulous approach to training successfully saved his own life at this moment.
From the beginning to the end, the fine iron sword was tightly held in his hand, and he did not throw it away like other people who fell from their horses.
"Your sweet baby is mine, hey!"
Ursals stepped forward in two steps, waving a big wooden club like a mallet with both hands, and laughed and smashed the soldier's leather helmet, like smashing a watermelon, which was extremely satisfying.
As long as the Demacia rider in front of him is beaten to death, he can throw away the big club in his hand and obtain an exquisite iron weapon.
With a roll and a narrow escape from the hammer blow that made a small crater in the ground, Swindell gritted his teeth and stood up from the ground, swinging his first sword at the barbarian in front of him.
"Your strength is just like your courage, vulnerable to attack!"
Ursals easily deflected the fluttering sword. He swore that if the Demacia soldier in front of him encountered the invulnerable bear-men who believed in the bear god on the ice sheet, he would not survive more than two breaths and would be killed by those possessors.
The bear-men with the power of the shaman disemboweled the body, dug out all the internal organs, and dedicated them to their bear god.
Unlike Noxian, the pure Freljordian language is very different from Demacian language. At least in Sventel's opinion, he can't even listen to the barbarian who keeps mumbling in front of him.
don't know.
But even if you think about it with your butt, you can tell that it’s not a good thing. What good fart can a northern barbarian do besides spitting feces with his mouth full?
"You bastard who can't even speak human words!"
Not to be outdone, Swindel cursed, realizing that he was no match for the barbarian in front of him, and the soldier quickly retreated.
"Haha! Demacia's coward!"
Following Swindell, Ursals took out the small hand ax hidden under the leather skirt around his waist, with a cruel expression on his face. His favorite thing was to face his enemy with his back.
This is what he is most proud of, and it is the enemy's most deadly weapon.
"My flying ax can accurately kill all enemies within ten meters. This is the skill I rely on for survival. You will be the next enemy to die under my flying axe."
Allowing Demacia's cowardly knight to ride on another horse that lost its owner, Ursals calmed down and began to shake his arms slightly and adjust the throwing direction.
"Death to the barbarians!!!"
Another cavalryman was about to slash from behind Ursals, but was hit by the barbarian who turned around suddenly and threw a flying ax. Half of his head was chopped off, and a ball of filth exploded.
It fell to the ground with a sound.
"Woooo!!"
Losing the restraint of its owner, the horse nimbly avoided the barbarian who was about to collide and began to escape from the battlefield in another direction. Obviously, it was not a qualified war horse.
After witnessing his comrade who died on his behalf, Swindel got on the horse and suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. Seeing that his own people were in a state of collapse, Swindel retreated, but his ears were ringing.
The wailing of the villagers made him unable to make up his mind.
"Boy, you are really lucky to be alive till now."
Looking around, Ursals felt relieved and saw that more than fifty cavalry had been completely defeated. He slowly took out the blood ax from the rotten skull, smacked his lips, and the barbarian picked up the iron sword of the dead knight.
Staring at the gleaming iron sword, Ursals was in a trance. On the reflective blade, he saw his son who died in the hands of a bear-man.
The bear-man tore open the young body like a yak slice, twisted his son's head around, and threw it at his feet...
"If our tribe had such a good thing, who would be afraid of those wild beasts in the wilderness? How come so many people die every day? His grandma's!"
"Everyone!! Retreat! Retreat!!"
At present, the village of Homs has turned into a bloody hell. The cavalry captain gritted his teeth and issued a new order, no longer caring about the villagers who had not evacuated.
He couldn't watch all his men die here, and he couldn't escape alone. This was a huge stain.
This time, a total of more than 80 riders came to support, and more than 20 people were responsible for rescuing the villagers and stopping the massacre. Unexpectedly, the remaining 60 people not only failed to repel the bandits, but were unable to even hinder them, and were easily defeated.
Those barbarians who didn't even have decent weapons were defeated on the battlefield, which made him somewhat doubt the significance of the cavalry formed by General Oren.
As for the more than twenty riders who went to rescue the villagers, they were quickly defeated by the sudden fatal blow.
Faced with the simple but deadly rotating stone zip line, the knights could not think of any solution. Simply using the lives of soldiers to slow down the barbarians' massacre of villagers was completely meaningless. Everyone would die here.
"No evacuation is allowed!! No evacuation is allowed!! There are still villagers stranded in the village!! No evacuation!!!"
It wasn't until the moment his cavalry captain issued the order that Swindel understood what it meant to evacuate him and others.
The more than 300 people in Homs Village will all become outcasts and become the targets of the barbarians from the north.
