"If you want a good life, you have to risk your life. When you died before, you were either eaten by wild beasts and turned into excrement, or were eaten by other tribes and turned into excrement. But now, when you die, you can be buried and get a piece of writing
You can get a tombstone with your name on it, and you can also get a generous pension, enough for your children to grow up!"
Bloodmaul's cold eyes swept over the natives, "The opportunity is right in front of you. If you don't want to stay in the Dragon Hills all your life, forget your lives, fight like wild beasts, and crush all the enemies in front of you!"
"Crush!"
"Crush!"
"Crush!"
Although the formation was in a mess, the morale of the natives was high. They believed in the Great Prophet Wolf and Downton. More importantly, their lives these days were the most comfortable they had ever lived in their lives.
With their pockets stuffed with gold coins, they can wander around the human kingdom and buy whatever they want. As Downton's subordinates, no one dares to despise them. On the contrary, those vendors will send smiles and serve eagerly. This
In the past, it was simply unimaginable.
Although the hilly natives have low IQs, they also understand that if they want this kind of life to continue, Downton must become the largest lord.
In the past, they fought hard for a bite to eat, but now they fight hard for a better life. The indigenous people who had already risked their lives would not hesitate to fight.
"Leave a thousand people and return the rest to camp!"
Bloodmaul roars, whatever a barbarian can do, he thinks that an ogre can do it too.
"You are relatively thin, go back!"
"My arms are thicker than your thighs. You say I'm skinny?"
"What's wrong with being thin? I can still kill people!"
The ogres pushed and pushed each other, but they refused to return to the camp. Then the quarrel turned into physical violence.
Bloodmaul had long been used to this kind of thing. The natives were unreasonable and the one with the strongest fist had the final say, so he didn't stop his men at all and rode a war bear directly towards the king's army camp.
This was a two-headed ogre, which was very rare, so the sentries were nervous and pointed their bows and arrows at him.
"Hey, where is the king? He wants to send out 10,000 people to fight against us. Of course, it's okay to have twice as many!"
Bloodmaul roared, and in order to increase his momentum, he raised the staff in his hand toward the sky, and a blue lightning fell from the sky, struck him, and turned into seven blue lightning balls that wrapped around his body.
Some sentries thought that Blood Mallet was about to take action, so with a shake of their hands, they fired their bows and arrows.
Crack! Crack!
Bloodmaul didn't bother to dodge, and the lightning shield blocked them all. He didn't leave, but stared at the camp, waiting for a reply.
Seeing the ogres fighting together, the observers were all dumbfounded. What is this? Internal strife? But at a close look, these natives are so strong.
Even the shortest ogres are six meters tall. The richer ones wear animal skirts, while the poor ones wear a grass skirt around their waists, which exposes all their muscles and tendons.
Come out. Coupled with the terrifying face with protruding teeth, you don't even need to put on makeup to play a monster in the opera house.
Downton couldn't help but cover his eyes. The bugbears who came out were the worst. After all, they were two meters tall and muscular, but they were immediately grabbed by the tall ogre and thrown away more than ten meters away.
These guys don't know how to hold back. Fortunately, bugbears are also rough-skinned and thick-flesh, otherwise they would have caused a lot of non-combat casualties.
"Stop fighting, the chiefs of each tribe will stay and then choose twenty tribesmen!"
Rosicky couldn't stand it any longer and roared.
"As expected of a prince, this selection method is so insidious!"
The cheap god complained that the natives wanted face most and did not want to be compared, so the people chosen by the chief were naturally the elites of the tribe. And if the chief led the team, if he died, the remaining people would definitely rely more on Downton.
"Your Majesty, what should I do?"
the old attendant asked.
"Ahem, let the third corps be dispatched!"
The old king was exhausted and sat on a chair. Even though he covered his mouth with a silk scarf, blood could still be seen oozing out.
Just as the observers were wondering how the king would respond, the sentries hurriedly moved away the roadblock again, and a flag bearer came out with a flying dragon flag, followed by groups of infantry.
It would be a bastard not to take advantage of it, so the king not only sent out two light infantry regiments of 20,000 people, but also had the clergy regiment and the mage regiment go out at the same time.
Phew! Phew!
Bloodmaul shot two green flares into the sky. He wanted to imitate the barbarians and not need assistance.
"Aren't these hilly natives too arrogant?"
"That's right, with such a chaotic battle formation and such poor weapons, what are you dreaming about if you want to kill 20,000 well-equipped infantry?"
"I really want to see them finished soon!"
Observers felt that these natives were too big. Although they looked quite big, they had no armor and even worse weapons. They were either wooden sticks with a few rusty nails or stone hammers. They actually dared to imitate the barbarians without any assistance.
?
"No, there's no support from Downton either?"
While the observers were talking a lot, they saw two red signal flares rising from the king's army, unfolding into gorgeous fireworks.
"What does it mean?"
Some chiefs who had never seen the world asked.
"The other party refused, Malebob. Does this mean we are inferior to barbarians?"
Bloodmaul was furious.
"Crush them!"
The natives roared in unison and began to move forward. As for war drums and the like, they had no need at all.
"Charlotte?"
Downton was worried and wanted the Wise Wolf to take action. In order to restore their momentum, the King's Army did not hesitate to send out the Priesthood Group and the Mage Group one after another. It was exactly like a conventional battle.
After all, this was the ogre's provocation first, and Downton couldn't refuse even if he wanted to.
"Lord, there is no need for the Great Prophet to take action, we are enough."
Several old shamans wearing animal skin cloaks clapped their chests and promised Downton, then walked towards the battlefield, and the young ones quickly followed.
"I, Dipolo, how could I forget these guys?"
Seeing a group of indigenous people with colorful feathers on their heads coming out, an observer slapped his forehead and suddenly realized.
He holds a staff carved from various trees, wears a necklace made of skulls, gems, and various unnamed things around his neck, and has thick, faceless tattoos on his face. No need to ask. It is definitely
Aboriginal shaman.
God is fair. Even among indigenous people with extremely low levels of civilization, lucky people will be born who are born to communicate with nature, resonate with elements, and become shamans. These people are undoubtedly the wise men of the tribe, shouldering the task of inheritance.
.
Although the natural magic of shamans is mysterious and mysterious, it is still too monotonous compared to the mainstream world with developed magical civilization. This is a common perception in the magic world. It is not that there are no magicians trying to study it, but shamanic magic is not
It was understood naturally, and even if there are records, they are simple murals carved on the stone walls of caves, or engraved on cobblestones, which have no reference value at all.
Therefore, what shamans use is called divine magic, not magic, which means that God's gifts cannot be learned through hard work like magic.
As for the duel between shamans and magic, observers have never seen it before, because no one has ever been able to bring together so many indigenous shamans.
The infantry of both sides advanced at the same time. When they were still hundreds of meters apart, the mage regiment had already exchanged fire. As the artillery profession on the battlefield, their mission was to destroy the enemy's formation and allow their own soldiers to kill the defeated troops.
After blessing the shield, dozens of fireballs rose from the King's Military Mage Group. With billowing black smoke, they shot towards the Shaman Division. As long as they were defeated, the infantry would be useless, not to mention the Saints.
Job Corps assistance. No need to worry.
The Shaman Division also takes the lead in defending and adds an earth shield to themselves.
The essence in the soil was extracted, forming five coconut-sized balls, which flew out from the ground and wrapped around the shamans. Following the wave of the staff, a large piece of lightning gathered above the head, crackling and flashing, and booming.
To the mage group.
According to the regular combat habits of the mage group, both sides should be shooting magic at each other. Until one side is suppressed, the battle formation of their own side will be attacked, but it is different today.
The shaman group's lightning chain did not intercept those fireballs at all, but went straight to the mage group's main formation.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Lightning struck the magic shield, the elements exploded, and sparks flew everywhere.
The mages have never experienced this kind of tactic. If the shield is damaged, they will quickly re-strengthen it. Even if there is no problem, they will refresh a few more shields.
They were just hired by the king's army with huge sums of money, and they had no intention of dying here.
The fireball also hit the shaman, and the earth shield was crumbling, but they didn't care at all and continued to chant magical spells and bombard the lightning chain towards the opposite side.
"Fight back, don't be suppressed by them!"
The mage leader roared.
The mages were not as desperate as the shamans. They quickly cast magic to intercept the lightning chain. Coupled with the time wasted refreshing the shield just now, although they took the lead, they were still passive.
"These shamans are of good quality!"
Experienced observers saw the trick. The shamans relied on the first wave of attack target selection to gain an advantage immediately, and the casting speed was not slow. The mage group, let alone counterattack, could intercept all magic attacks.
Not bad.
"Holy Order, Divine Assistance!"
The group leader saw the expressions of some mages changed drastically. He knew something was wrong, and he didn't care about his face anymore, so he quickly called for help.
In a mage group competition, the side that defends passively will always face huge psychological pressure, because being unable to withstand it means that it will directly bear the attack.
After hearing the group leader's words, the observers were in an uproar, because it meant that the mage group had lost at the beginning of the confrontation.
Being stared at by those contemptuous eyes, the leader was extremely depressed. What could he do? Mages were originally rare talents. Those with strength were recruited away by those second-rate or even first-rate powerful countries. The remaining talents were basically
There are not many, and the remaining ones have to be eliminated, and since five major forces coexist in Delankfurt, naturally the king will get even less. For this, you have to pay a high salary and a noble title, otherwise people will not treat you at all.
On the other hand, Downton's shamans are all experienced guys, and they have fought at least hundreds of times, because Dragon Hills is not a greenhouse, and those who can't adapt will die. (To be continued...)