Chapter 273: The Last Light (Part 1)
To the south of the village, a silver arrow flew across the street at a speed faster than a bullet, passed through the crack in the door of the Temple of Mor, and shot straight at the vampire hanging upside down on the ceiling.
The blood descendants noticed the arrows, but unlike the soft projectiles of human archers, the direct shots of the elves were like lightning piercing the earth, leaving no way to dodge.
The silver edge pierced through the vampire's shoulder, and inertia even caused the vampire to hit the wall behind the statue.
The noble stone statue of Morr maintained a pensive posture, and the crow statue on the statue's shoulder glanced slightly, as if examining the dying undead.
The vampire used screams to alert his companions, but the elves who hurriedly returned from Kislev were not the only ones in the Eastern State who could hunt down vampires.
"We mourn...and pray for those who are still alive."
".Follow the rose-covered stone path.Walk into the final peace"
The Book of the Dead is sung by hundreds of crow messengers in the north of the village. Although mortals are always confused by political struggles, most of Morr's followers still focus only on death.
Around a small village on the border of the Eastern State, dissidents from the South and the North began their first confrontation.
To those in power, they are nothing more than pawns, but to the Morr warriors who have locked onto the vampires, this is a fight of faith to the death.
The spells of the undead make the dust tremble slightly, and the necromancy that attempts to awaken the dead arouses the deepest hatred of the protectors of the dead.
One voice after another shouted angrily:
"In the name of Mor! Look upon me! Abomination! Who am I?"
The voices of the old and the young lingered in the ears of the vampires. Dozens of new vampires had no experience of facing Pastor Moore, and listened to the words of the true believer ignorantly.
They walked out from the trees, eaves, and mud, their souls shocked by the holiness, and stared blankly at the incarnation of death coming towards the north.
"I am Death! I am a priest of Morr, the god of the dead!"
The skeleton that had just emerged from the soil extinguished the fire of death in its eyes and returned to peace again. The vampire's pale skin ignited with invisible flames, and the burning pain awakened the blood descendants who were under the spell, but it was too late for them to escape.
Not only did the arrows shot by the southern elves accurately target the undead, but the human vampire hunters also took out their crossbows, pulled the triggers, and shot to death the vampires paralyzed by the divine magic.
Silver Arrow played the first song of killing, but killing could not stop the vampires coming from other directions.
On the snowy plain, old hunters were knocked down by Chaos War Mastiffs one after another. Ivan desperately ran south with a few scattered survivors. When another burst of horses' whine sounded from Ivan's side, he knew that he was the only one who escaped among the fifty people.
While they were using horse archery to engage the Norse tribe, the cunning wolves had already circled behind the horse archers.
No direwolf wanted to let go of the prey that was within their grasp, and forty-nine war horses and the same number of humans could not feed them.
Ivan urged his horse on and randomly shot arrows from his bow to put pressure on the rear.
Fortunately, ordinary direwolves still have a minimum fear of arrows and will not pounce on them recklessly like the Chaos War Mastiffs.
A group of Ugor riders rushed towards the battlefield and passed by Ivan who had escaped.
Curses and screams continued to appear behind Ivan, mixed with the intermittent sound of bowstrings.
The sound of horse hooves was incessant. Although countless Ugol people fell, there was still a steady stream of archers rushing back to the battlefield to engage the enemy.
When another group of Ugor riders passed by Ivan, the young horse archers gritted their teeth, turned around and rushed back to the battlefield.
The order they received was to engage the enemy. Although the Ugor riders had completely lost their organization up to this point in the battle, chaos was not a reason to be afraid of fighting.
"Run! Boyer! Run! You must come back alive!"
The Norsca Peninsula is a troll kingdom bordering Kislev. The monster-infested ice fields devour human life and kill all intelligent creatures that break in.
There were only a few veterans left who had come with Igor to spy on the enemy. In order to escape from the Troll Mountains, they left behind fourteen lives.
Now, on the verge of returning to civilization, the only eight people left are in imminent danger.
Old Ivan from Dongcun grabbed Igor Boye tightly and fled to the south without looking back.
The troll's dull roar was filled with rage as another little creature poked a toothpick into its nose.
It didn't notice that two snacks were missing. It just concentrated on removing the toothpick stuck in the snack, grabbing the food that was squealing, and putting it into its mouth.
As the monster was chewing, the five remaining warriors lost their courage, but being cowardly does not mean fleeing.
In the final madness of mankind, the soldiers worked together to cut off the monster's bloody left leg, making a futile last struggle against the troll that had been tracking them for a long time.
"Escape to the north! Lead it further north!"
The old soldier who still had some sense shouted, but the next moment he was grabbed by the troll and crushed into a pulp.
The wounds inflicted by the soldiers at great risk of their lives healed in just a moment. The four veterans, with the help of tacit understanding, hastily fled to the north in four directions.
The Chaos Warriors slaughtered the vast numbers of Trolls in the Troll Kingdom with fierce enthusiasm.
Wherever the Chaos Legion went, the earth trembled and the sky turned gray amid the screams of the Chaos Dragons.
Lightning flashed in the dark clouds, and dragon demons drove herds of mammoths, following behind the mighty army.
The master of the troll kingdom was furious and powerless deep in the mountains. He could do nothing. Even the troll king was just prey to the Chaos army.
"It's my prey!"
Further north of the Troll Kingdom, in the Icefang Mountains, the Skulltaker looked with fear at the God-chosen Champion who was also sitting on the Flesh Hound, but only received a scornful raise of the hand in return.
"It belongs to me. Only I am qualified to kill the Ancient Saint's champion!"
Anger made the demon's eyes glow bloodshot instantly. Even if he was the champion chosen by God, so what? He was just a mortal!
"Oh~ It's not too late to regret now. You are the third "undefeated" person I have ever seen."
Urzul's dangerous whispers fueled Abair's rage, and it was clear that temper was not part of the Way of Khorne.
There was a deafening sound coming from the continuous icebergs in front of Lynch. It seemed like a signal. Icebergs kept collapsing and avalanches kept occurring. It seemed like two gods were fighting there.
The omnipresent aura of chaos affected Lynch's judgment. He could not intuitively understand what was happening ahead, but everything on the ice field was an enemy, the prey designated by the ancient saint "Predator" Huangqi.
The lizard man cut off the deformed flesh and blood that had grown on his body, and the next moment, his body returned to its peak state.
Leaving only an afterimage, the hunter threw away the hover engine and headed straight for the Ice Fang Mountains.
(End of this chapter)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
