Did Father Bear hear his prayer? Send a war bear to support him?
Boris thought to himself and turned around suddenly. However, reality gave him a ruthless blow. Standing behind him were not war bears, but a group of beastman scouts covered in thick hair.
In less than a heartbeat, the beastmen roared and charged forward. The inability to attack the Great Wall made the beasts irritable and restless, and the lone human in front of them became the perfect target for them to vent their anger.
The exhausted Boris could only bite the bullet and fight again.
He was unwilling to die here like this. He didn't believe that the bear god Esun would abandon him, and he didn't believe that his fate would stop here.
I am a noble Kislev noble, the son of Vladimir. My destiny is never to die in battle here, and this desolate and cold place is definitely not my burial place.
"never!"
Boris roared angrily, took the spear coming from the beastman, held the spear with one hand, turned around, got close to the inferior horned beast, and swiped the dagger he carried with him, and cleanly cut the beastman's throat.
The blood of the enemy satisfies him and makes him crazy. This is the taste of battle and revenge. It is as if he was born to be a warrior and born to fight.
Another beastman rushed towards him immediately. Boris glanced at it from the corner of his eye. He dodged sideways and avoided the beastman's blood axe. The moment the beastman dropped his axe, Boris rushed forward, holding the sword in his left hand.
The sword pierced the beastman's soft belly.
When he turned his wrist, the sword blade cut a bloody gash in the beastman's abdominal cavity. "Bleed, beast!" Boris roared angrily, pulled out his dagger, and disembowelled the horned beast in front of him.
The beastman's intestines and blood fell to the ground in a splash, and were kicked away by Boris.
Immediately afterwards, a third beastman soldier rushed up from behind and strangled the back of Boris's neck, making him unable to move. However, Boris resisted the feeling of suffocation, drew out the dagger with one hand, and stabbed him in.
The pain in the beastman's exposed thighs made the beastman loosen his hands. Taking advantage of this gap, Boris broke away, roared and rushed forward, raised the knife in his hand, and stabbed the beastman's eye socket with the knife, causing blood to spurt out.
And out...
Then came the fourth, fifth... Even if they swarmed up, they couldn't catch the nimble Boris.
Although he was exhausted, hungry and cold, but with the instinct of survival, Boris stabbed, chopped, and killed the peripheral reconnaissance force of this group of beastmen from left and right.
But then, more crazy roars of beastmen came from the woods not far away.
Holding the bloody dagger in his hand, Boris knew that he had to withdraw. Otherwise, it would be absolutely impossible for him to fight against the entire beastman army on his own.
In the snow, Boris took one last look at the Great Wall of Despair. There were his comrades there, and there was the last symbol of the civilized world. However, there was only a wall between them, and he could not go back.
In despair, Boris roared into the snowy sky, which was his last farewell to the past world. The Ugor tribe... Yes, Boris knew that he had no choice. He could only retreat to the tribe first and save his life.
Say it again.
The beastmen rushed over like crazy, and Boris ran away.
On the vast snow, Boris Boka, the former Kislev nobleman and defender of the Great Wall, was small and humble...
…
He was in a mess, his hair was like dry straw, and his animal skin coat was stained with solidified blood scabs. Boris just broke into the tribe's camp.
If he hadn't entered the tribal camp like this before, I'm afraid the Ugor riders would have stabbed him to death outside the camp.
The chief sat there, silently studying the proud and embarrassed young man in front of him. His long face was silent and serious. Boris could not read a trace of emotion in his eyes. There was no appreciation and respect in the past, nor any emotion.
Dissatisfied and ridiculed. He just sat there, looking at himself like a trophy.
Although the atmosphere is very embarrassing, Boris has decided to lurk. He still has resentment and dissatisfaction. He cannot let go of the injustice that fate has dealt to him. One day, he will resist this damn miserable fate, and now
, survival is the key...
After a long time, Boris lowered his head—
"Dear Chief, please accept me as a member of the tribe."
This voice is so humble, so low, without the arrogance of the past, like a sword polished by the years, gradually losing its former light, becoming restrained and dim, but the obsession hidden deep in the heart is getting stronger and stronger.
Deep.
"You are not very capable. Where has your courage gone? Lord Boris Borka."
The chief asked in a low voice, deliberately emphasizing the word 'sir'.
Boris heard it, it was ridicule, even contempt. However, he had no choice. To rely on others or die... If you die, there will be nothing. Only by surviving can there be hope and possibility.
Boris lowered his head silently.
"A brave man must also assess the situation. Otherwise, he is no different from a reckless man. A person's power is limited after all. And I want to survive now."
Boris returned shamelessly.
I have to say that thick-skinned people have advantages everywhere. The straightforward and frank words make the chief happy. He likes such frank people and such brave and fearless warriors. Even if he was once proud and dismissive. But,
He still liked it. It seemed that in him, the great chief saw his former self.
"You can stay, but you can only serve as my groom, equivalent to what you call a knight's attendant." The chief said contemptuously, "Kanhada, take him down, wash away the dirty blood, and then give him
He is equipped with a handy weapon. Daggers and daggers are for women. Men should not use these small weapons."
…
At dawn, a group of soldiers in black coats patrolled through the streets and stopped in front of a dilapidated house. The captain ordered the people inside to come out because they were about to set the place on fire.
After a while, an old man staggered out of the house. To be precise, he was not old yet, just middle-aged. However, long-term malnutrition and hard work made him bald early and the rest of his hair turned gray.
He was white, and the wrinkles on his face were like dry river beds, crisscrossed and dense.
"Old man, get over there, this house is going to burn down."
The captain said in a semi-command tone. During these days, they have carried out too many such tasks. Facts have proved that talking to these civilians with nice words cannot achieve any good results. On the contrary, sometimes it will seriously slow down the process.
Work efficiency.
During the current plague, Lord Rhodes' order was to burn down every house where dead people had been lying. Most of these dead people were infected and died from the plague. Until a better antidote is available, fire is the best way.
Although there will be accidental injuries, we can't control that much. The urgent task now is to contain and control.
The old man staggered up to the soldier, but was thrust into the chest with a spear——
"Cooperate, old man. I'll say it again, everyone alive will come out and undergo quarantine inspection. We are going to burn your house."
the soldier shouted loudly.
"I swear to the gods, my son is not infected with the plague, he just has an ordinary fever..."
The old man cried and knelt down. However, the soldiers had no time to talk nonsense to him. Two guards in black pointed their spears directly at the old man. The captain led people in and drove out the remaining people in the house.
Soon, an old woman and a young girl were driven out, and the boy was already dying... The captain used his sword to open the boy's clothes, revealing all the rotten flesh inside.
"I'm sorry, kid."
Without any explanation, the patrol captain pressed the sword forward. The tip of the sword pierced the boy's chest, and black blood slowly seeped out along the rotten skin.
When the plague spreads, the living people are far more important than the people without hope. Even the best medicine can only provide relief, but cannot cure it. And those who are terminally ill not only have to endure extreme torture, but also have a high risk of death.
Infectious. As a last resort, the sweep begins.
Scenes like this are staged every day in the streets and alleys of Erengrad, and passers-by have even become numb. They can only pray that the plague will not come to them. And it is almost impossible to reach the safe zone in the mountains.
There are all nobles and rich people there. The villages on the mountain where herders used to live have now become the richest and safest place in the entire Erengrad...
"elder brother!"
The girl screamed, but the bright sword stood between him and the boy. Her parents, including her, could only watch the boy die.
The soldiers threw the dead boy inside the house and started setting fire to it. The isolation zone had already been drawn out, so there was no need to worry about the fire spreading.
Huge firelight illuminated the dark streets, and thick smoke rose in the sky. Accompanied by the crackling sound of the fire, a large group of rats crawled out of the house. Outside the house, the rat hunters following the patrol were already ready, with all kinds of tools out.
.In the black market of the empire, rat meat is a source of meat for the poor. However, here, the great lord Rhodes has ordered that all rats caught will be killed and burned. The salary of the rat catcher is directly allocated from the central government.
.And the entire team of rat catchers has unprecedentedly become the "regular army" of a kingdom and participated in this arduous plague war...