That night, the mercenaries guarding the caravan camp were surprised to find that a large number of Wolfgangs suddenly appeared about a hundred yards away from their camp. In the pitch-black night, pairs of green beasts glowed with hatred.
His eyes were like will-o'-the-wisps floating in the cemetery, surrounding the entire caravan.
Faced with such a situation, the caravan manager at that time was still arrogant and ignorant. He realized that he had nearly a hundred warriors under his command, including powerful mid-level professionals and accurate and sharp crossbowmen, so he was not afraid of those who came for revenge.
Behemoth just ordered the guards to prepare for all battles, and the steward planned to wait for the wolf riders to come to the door and accept the ruthless strangulation with swords.
It is a pity that Wolfgang's Avengers did not rush directly into the caravan camp and engage in a face-to-face life and death battle with humans as the steward expected. Instead, they were like ghosts, silently wandering around the God Crossbowman.
From outside the shooting range, he stared coldly at everyone and every face in the caravan.
For one hour, two hours, three hours, the intense defense quickly consumed the physical strength and energy of the caravan guards. Coupled with the fatigue from the day's journey, some low-level warriors soon couldn't bear it and asked for a rest. At this time,
The wolf riders gathered around seemed to have retreated quietly because they could not think of anything. So the caravan manager gave the order to rest after a brief consideration. Only a few night watch soldiers were left, and others were allowed to rest.
went.
Another hour, two hours, and three hours passed, and the camp was still calm as usual. It seemed that those Wolfgang Wolf Riders had really retreated. So, the mid-level soldiers were hiding in the dark, guarding against the enemy's deception and sneak attacks.
The soldiers also came out one after another and dispersed to take advantage of the last moment before dawn to take a good rest and regain their energy as soon as possible.
At this time, the Dresden caravan camp really became quiet, with only snoring and sleep talking breaking the tranquility of the night from time to time.
And at this last moment before dawn, which is also the thickest time of night, green eyes like fireflies, stars, and hell flames shine again. They gather from all directions, with a silent roar that suppresses the heart and lungs and is unforgettable.
With boundless hatred, he rushed towards the fire of the caravan camp.
It is unknown which conscientious night watchman was the first to discover Wolfgang who had rushed towards the camp and shouted to warn his sleeping comrades, but he was destined to become the first tragic victim to fall to the sword of the Wolf Cavalry.
There was no pity, no forgiveness, and no sympathy. When most members of the caravan were awakened by the screams and shouts, what greeted them was a bloody scimitar that was colder than ice and a sheet of blood stained by the killing.
The face looked extremely ferocious. The lonely head was accompanied by scattered limbs. Under the pen made of the blade, in the deepest night, he continued to write indecipherable farewells with blood. Soon, the overflowing blood condensed into frost, and it turned out that
The ground of this camp is covered like an ice rink.
Compared with ordinary caravan members who were massacred and had no power to resist, although they were caught off guard by the wolf rider's sneak attack, the guard mercenaries still relied on their extraordinary martial arts to resist tenaciously. However, due to the fact that they were attacked first
The human warriors who had lost their unified organization and command and did not dominate the continent with personal force soon found that their companions fell one after another under Wolfgang's siege. They were like fragile sand castles.
It can resist for a while, but in the end it is swallowed up by the tide of wolf cavalry, leaving no trace behind.
Only those seven powerful mid-level professional warriors are like real rocks in the sea, constantly cutting down the surging wolf knights. Perhaps, relying on these powerful warriors, the Dresden caravan can still make a desperate attempt.
Give it a try in the hope of coming back to life.
But sadly, the caravan steward's last stupid decision destroyed everyone's hope. He asked seven mid-level professionals to protect himself and the large number of precious gems he carried with him to break out quickly. As for the rest of the caravan,
He stayed in place and became the target of Wolfgang's revenge. Although this approach was seriously immoral and irrational, the order as the top person in charge of the caravan was still strictly implemented. Seven middle-level warriors mounted their war horses and drove
The caravan steward's car surrounded the middle and successfully broke out. But behind them, desolate cries and desperate curses resounded throughout the fields, accompanied by hoarse murmurs as the scimitar slashed the throat again and again, and finally fell heavily,
Eventually, it turned into a cold wind that never dissipated in the wilderness.
Unfortunately, the "sacrifice" of all the caravan members could not bring about the final escape of the steward. In the following three days of non-stop tracking, pursuit, strangulation, blocking and fighting, Wolfgang showed the world the extraordinary ability of ordinary people.
In the vast hurricane wasteland, how the low-level wolf cavalry bit the powerful middle-level warrior squad into pieces bit by bit, killing them all. Even if the wolf cavalry's enemies included someone close to the Round Table.
An eighth-level knight and a rare seventh-level crossbowman, but the final winner is still the proud and united Wolfgang.
It was not until half a year later that the remains of the missing Dresden caravan members were accidentally discovered in the wilderness by other passing caravans. Apart from a horrific temple built with hundreds of blood-stained heads, the only thing that remained was
A skinned corpse that had undergone special embalming treatment was dumped with dead poplar branches in front of Jingguan. Later it was confirmed that the skinless corpse was indeed the steward of the caravan. At the same time, there were still traces of blood on the back of the corpse.
A line of specially carved claw marks.
And this motto that resounded throughout the Hurricane Wasteland became Wolfgang's "best gift" to all caravans:
We are not bloodthirsty, but we are not tolerant.
There was no resistance, no escape, not even a scream before death. When the tide of wolf riders quickly passed over the heavy-casualty Big-eared Barbarian bandits and rushed into the shaky defense circle of the Tulip Chamber of Commerce, all human bodies were
They were stunned and even sluggish. As if their minds were completely destroyed by fear, the members of the caravan just silently watched the oncoming wolf cavalry raise their scimitars high, and then waited quietly, waiting for the opponent to strike.
Wave it down and bid yourself farewell to this bottomless nightmare.
In just two minutes, a total of fifty-three people, including the caravan steward, fell under the wolf rider's scimitar. And from the beginning to the end, even those humans who were as weak as newborn dolphins were unable to arouse them at all.
Even the slightest hesitation or sympathy from the Wolf Cavalry made most of Wolfgang's eyes filled with disdain and contempt.
"Humph! These humans are so pitiful, worse than the wild donkeys on the deserted beaches. It is unimaginable that our ancestors were defeated and driven away by such a weak enemy."
Seeing that there was no longer an enemy standing in the surrounding area, the female werewolf Margaret casually shook the golden scimitar in her hand and said in a loud voice. Immediately, strings of blood followed the blood grooves on the golden sword like rain lines.
It flew out at an angle, and the blade surface, which was as delicate as a golden mirror, immediately returned to its brightness and cleanliness.
"That's because the opponents we encountered today are just traffickers who are not fond of force. But if we despise human beings because of this, Miss Margaret, I have to say that such an idea is shallow and dangerous." The old werewolf.
He quietly followed the female werewolf, looking at the wolf cavalry who had already begun to inspect the body and make necessary finishing blows, and said slowly.
"Haha, am I right, Old Crow?" In response to the old werewolf's somewhat harsh retort, Margaret showed no signs of displeasure or displeasure. Instead, she asked enthusiastically.
"It seems that your teacher has not fulfilled his responsibilities." The old werewolf turned his slightly hazy and turbid eyes, glanced at the female werewolf, and said: "Ignore the 'War for Continental Overlord' thousands of years ago.
Only in the first, second and third 'Punic Wars' since then, which one did not use all the efforts of Krorod to defeat the human kingdom and regain the occupied homeland. But what was the result? Failure, failure, or
Failure. Miss Margaret, do you think that the heroic warriors of the United Kingdom have been repeatedly defeated by a group of cowards?" At this point, the old werewolf slightly raised his voice, but then lowered his voice and returned to an indifferent calm.
"I'm sorry, Old Crow, I'm too frivolous." As if she couldn't stand the old werewolf's plain but steely eyes, the female werewolf slowly lowered her head and bowed deeply to him.
"Miss Margaret, you don't have to be like this." The old werewolf shook his head, then pointed at the dead bodies and caravan belongings around him: "What are you going to do next?"
"Let Hines and his men stay here to supervise Big Ear's cleaning of the battlefield. We will go to other places." The female werewolf thought for a while and said.
"Where to go?"
"Santos River! Before I came out of the wolf's den, I heard from Uncle Gigert that a human caravan was about to return from Bracada. But what's ridiculous is that some other humans actually passed through.
The agent released the news and was willing to pay to invite thieves to rob. Haha, it’s really full of ridiculous joy!”
"This is nothing special. You must know that humans themselves are a race that is good at and keen on internal fighting. It can be said that the total number of humans who died in previous foreign wars is probably less than a fraction of the number of people they killed among themselves." Old Wolf
He said calmly, but then changed the topic: "However, the upper management seems to have agreed to leave the matter of this caravan to the 'Savage Totem'. It seems inappropriate for us to reach out to it again."
"It doesn't matter. I'm just going to see how those rude and disgusting ogres work. And maybe the bastards of Savage Totem still need our generous help from Wolfgang!" With that said, Ma
Gretel chuckled, her eyes full of cunning.
"That's fine." This time, the old werewolf did not object, but nodded in approval of the female werewolf's decision.
