As if he knew that his life was about to run out, the old ogre, who was half-kneeling and unwilling to fall, suddenly opened his closed eyes. The weather-beaten red eyes that had seen all the vicissitudes of life disappeared from his two huge eye sockets.
The eyes were replaced by a blackened void. But even so, in the deepest part of the empty eye sockets, there seemed to be two deep black flames burning and beating. The next moment, those two black flames suddenly
Heightened up and magnified, a pair of indescribably terrifying eyes instantly passed through the smoke-filled carriage space and landed firmly on Moriarty's face, as if they were trying to suck the entire figure of the enemy in front of him into the black flames.
, and then dragged them together into hell.
"The Last Behemoth Elegy" (War Song) - Listen to the Wind Sing!
Trying his best to squeeze out his last bit of life force, Old Man began to sing silently with his soul:
The wind blew past my ears, carrying a gentle sadness;
It's like a distant lover singing alone on a hill.
How many years have passed since I returned to my hometown, and I have forgotten it;
Wipe the dirt on your face and hide away the pain.
…
This is the death war song summoned by Behemoth Shaman at the cost of burning his own soul. The terrifying power condensed in the war song can directly penetrate the physical surface and attack the enemy's soul, causing it to completely die. According to legend, there is no
Any method can be used to exempt such a soul attack. And the subject has no other choice but to burn his own soul to resist the damage of the war song.
However, the final elegy sung by Behemoth Shaman with his soul only completed half of it before it was permanently interrupted by a magic arrow.
"It's a pity that I don't have the ability to listen to it completely now."
Moriarty looked at the old ogre who was pierced by the silver magic arrow in the forehead and finally fell into the dust unwillingly. He bowed slightly. Then, he drew out the red dagger from his waist, stepped forward quickly, and stabbed him with the sword.
Enter into the neck of Behemoth Shaman.
And at the moment when the sword edge sank into Old Brotherton's flesh and blood, wisps of silk-like tentacles as thin as gossamer but with a faint dark golden light suddenly emerged from the skin under Moriarty's wrist, and then they looked like wildly growing vines.
It usually penetrates into the wound along the edge of the red dagger, and then starts to twist and dance wildly.
After just a few breaths, the old ogre's huge body shriveled up to one level, as if a large amount of flesh and blood essence had been rapidly drained away. A few bloody tentacles could even be seen coming from the forehead of the Behemoth Shaman.
The wounds and eye sockets protruded, dancing happily against the smoke of blood and fire. However, all these visions seemed so insignificant on the chaotic battlefield that even White, who was following Moriarty, was not aware of it.
After a few more breaths, as if he was finally satisfied, the red silk tentacles were withdrawn from Behemoth Shaman's body and quickly retracted under Moriarty's wrist, without leaving any trace.
At this time, Moriarty moved the hilt of his sword, cut off the old ogre's head, and then threw it to his followers.
"If your leader is dead and wounded, retreat immediately if you don't let me!"
White immediately put the Kosykin shield in his hand in front of him, then raised the head of the Behemoth Shaman in his hand and stood up with a loud shout. Immediately, surging shouts resounded throughout the audience.
And the next second, the barbaric totem collapsed.
Commander Varyosha was seriously injured and fell into a coma, Behemoth Shaman Old Gordon was killed and beheaded, and four mushroom clouds killed ogres and a large number of big-eared thieves. All of these added up, already exceeded the size of the barbaric totem.
The psychological bottom line that some thieves can bear. I don't know who made the first howl of fear. Immediately, the big-eared barbarians who were still frantically attacking the car castle began to scramble towards the night behind them. And running behind
At the front were the four big-eared berserkers and Varyosha, who was still unconscious under their strict guard.
Compared with all the barbarians fleeing, the movements of the remaining ten ogres were much slower. There was even an extraordinarily tall ogre that seemed unwilling to give up their leader, Old Gordon, and instead "reverses"
"Tide" roared and rushed towards White in the car fort, intending to take back the shaman's body and head. However, what greeted this "brave" ogre was the exciting sound of the lion's roaring heavy crossbow and a rapid-fire weapon.
The armor-piercing burning arrow of lightning. In the end, when the ogre's palm was pierced by the burning arrow and burned into a scorched meat torch, the fear of death still defeated the not so strong determination, and tragically
He screamed and fled towards the northern wasteland with the other ogres.
"Although it is just a man-eating beast, it has a bit of fighting courage." Looking at the back of the ogre striding away, White said softly to himself, seeming to be sorry that he did not directly use explosive arrows to kill the enemy.
Explain the act of killing.
However, Moriarty did not listen to White's "nagging" at all, but walked towards the ring fortification. There, the blood-stained steward Franklin and the other two middle-level knights who quickly gathered over were taking a look.
Looking at Moriarty, his eyes were filled with the fatigue of the aftermath of the disaster and a strong sense of awe. As for the other living people in the car castle at this moment, most of them stared blankly at the backs of the thieves leaving in a hurry and the slowly approaching thieves.
Moriarty, as silent as a group of sculptures frozen in flesh and blood.
"Mr. Franklin, you seem to be injured." Ignoring the strange looks from the crowd, Moriarty calmly walked to the carriage, looked up at the steward who was still holding a blood-stained spear in his hand, and said with a smile.
"Ah...ah, it's nothing. I just scratched a few pieces of skin." Franklin looked down at Moriarty, who was wearing brown leather armor but almost unstained. He shook his head with a wry smile, and then with Hubert's help, he climbed out of the top of the truck.
He jumped down and threw aside the spear in his hand: "I almost thought I couldn't stand it just now, so I thought that instead of being killed and eaten like a dog by those thieves, I might as well fight before I die.
, get a few more big-eared bastards to support you.”
To be honest, at Franklin's age and status, it is no longer easy to stand on the front line with a blade and fight with powerful enemies in a life-and-death fight with ordinary soldiers. Therefore, Moriarty also expressed his respect.
He nodded to this fat old man who was almost sixty years old.
"Thank you, Sir Ensberg. Together with Mr. White, you avenged the Camaro Knights and repelled the thieves' attack." At this time, Grant and Huber took a step forward from both sides and faced each other.
Moriarty and the followers behind him bowed deeply: "Without your strong counterattack, I am afraid that everyone present would have become a lonely soul in the wasteland."
"Facing the attack of the barbarian thieves, we naturally share the same hatred." Moriarty waved his hand and motioned for the other party to stand up, then turned to look at the steward: "Mr. Franklin, now it seems that we have completely defeated the barbarian totem. What's next?
How is the caravan prepared to act?"
"Next, let's collect the wounded and the dead first." Franklin thought for a moment and sighed: "Of course we will do our best to treat those who can be treated, but those bodies can only be buried on the spot and we are really unable to take them away.
Already."
For a long time, caravans were traveling abroad, and if a caravan member died due to illness or accident, most of them were buried locally, and few of them could return home. This was due to both health and epidemic prevention reasons and huge costs.
factors. Therefore, when Franklin proposed to bury the deceased on the spot, no one raised any objection. Even if the deceased person was a relative, they could only do so ruthlessly.
There was no external threat for the time being, and Moriarty immediately began to provide basic hydrotherapy treatment to the injured in the caravan. However, because the thieves' offensive in the final stage was so fierce and cruel, he was still injured and could survive until he was able to defeat the powerful attackers.
There are really not many wounded people behind the enemy lines, only about ten people. The other hundreds of mercenary soldiers and ordinary caravan members have all been killed in the battle. However, those who can still maintain sound mobility and certain combat capabilities, plus Moriarty
Grant and others, there are only forty or fifty people. And depending on the situation, even if they receive Moriarty's magical treatment, at least half of the dozen or so wounded will not survive the daylight. And for this, whether it is
Franklin or Moriarty are both at their wits end and can only follow their destiny.
After urgently arranging the wounded, Franklin took a dozen of his unharmed men and began to clean up the scattered goods and the carriages and trucks that were still in a circle.
This can be said to be a very difficult job. Due to the previous fierce battles, the originally well-sealed cargo packages had long been broken and cracked, and some were even overheated and most of them were scorched black. As for the wooden carts used as defenses,
The degree of damage was even more severe. At a glance, almost half of them could no longer get back on the road. However, in order to minimize the losses for the Chamber of Commerce, Franklin kept cursing and kept looking at the piles.
He rummaged through the destroyed packages to find the goods that were still valuable, and then handed them over to other people behind him to reorganize, sort, and pack them. As for the trucks and carriages, Franklin entrusted them to several repairmen in the caravan.
, they can disassemble and disassemble them as they please, all they need is to put together as many vehicles that can go on the road as much as possible before dawn.
Finally, after working non-stop for most of the night, Franklin was able to rescue nearly 50,000 worth of goods from the damaged goods, which reduced the caravan's loss in goods by half. After repacking and stabilizing, these goods were recovered.
The cargo packages were carefully loaded onto the trucks that had been hastily repaired and could barely run again. Fortunately, the mules and horses that were driven away did not suffer any losses, so now the caravan has enough animal power to pull these obviously overloaded and poorly performing trucks.
Good vehicle.
.....................
Thank you all for your collection and recommendation, please continue to support Xianxiang.
Also, special thanks to "I go to the room to poop every day" for the reward, the name is very cool.
