Chapter 433: The Arrival of the Other Dimension
The half-real and half-virtual ghost face screamed and shuttled through the forest, the unnatural flames created pieces of ashes, and then stopped in the suffocating poisonous gas.
Teams of warlocks fought with swords and muskets against the Beastmen or Nurgle believers who rushed in front of them. Nurgle's followers would still fight with the Beastmen on the way to the charge. Slaanesh demons quickly shuttled in the shadows, making their presence felt from time to time.
The nimble demon retreated just in time before being hit by the sudden magic.
The forest was in chaos. Everywhere you looked, you could see warriors or sorcerers fighting each other in groups of three or four. From time to time, a failed spell would explode and flatten a small area of the forest. The forest was groaning in its death throes, but no one could do anything about it.
The magic circle in the center of the forest was strangely quiet. Almost everyone subconsciously avoided that place. Even if some beastmen rushed recklessly towards the sacrifice, they would be quickly killed on the way by the various sects that suddenly joined forces.
Lynch thought the situation would not continue to deteriorate, and he had been watching for a while.
But another group of rampaging armed gangs came into his perception, rushing towards the chaotic forest area without any concealment.
"This is our territory!"
"We can't let humans continue!"
"Send troops! We must send troops!"
"But that bastard Borriol took away many soldiers."
Underground, the heated discussion came to an abrupt halt.
"Send out troops! Send out twenty." The participant was interrupted before he could finish his words.
"Impossible! We don't have 200,000 soldiers!"
Just as the clan's war leader was about to argue, he found that the proposer did not continue.
The Skaven Kingdom should obviously keep a low profile in the near future, even those ratmen clans who are known to be tough.
Every small clan has envoys from the big clans. They come with assistance from other clans, firmly control the power of the small clan, and fight against hostile clans.
The people present were a mixed bunch, and the envoy of the Moss clan, who advocated war, just said slowly: "Send out twenty soldiers."
In this way, everyone can get a satisfactory result. The underground kingdom defends its hegemony, the slave rats will escape directly on the way to the expedition, and the Moss clan has achieved the purpose of sending troops and will not be held accountable by the headquarters.
Those clans that advocate lying dormant no longer have to worry about the situation worsening.
Every ratman believed that other clans would make the same judgment - the aboveworld should be abandoned for a short time, and the ratmen must enter a period of great dormancy, using the long years to restore their numbers.
The "Master of Transformation" Shelent originally thought that the Scarlet Skull would encounter many obstacles, but none of the opponents he had anticipated appeared. The Blood God's Cult, assisted by the Beastmen Tribe, advanced smoothly and charged towards the forest where magic was flying all over the sky.
There is almost no need for positioning, and there is no need to use insiders, because the location of the ritual is too obvious and anyone who is not blind can see it.
They had to fight quickly and decisively, as someone who witnessed the vision would definitely report it to the officials of Midden. It would take some time for the army to arrive, and during this period, Shelent would have the only chance to win.
Such an anomaly must require the town to allocate troops. Ordinary militiamen would not dare to join in the fun. The nearest town is Middenheim. Shelent does not need to consider whether the church present will be able to hold out against the regular army after the army arrives. The result is self-evident.
Before they were summoned out of Paradise and gained the power of the Kingdom of God, they were powerless to fight against the army.
The vague omen of danger suppressed the warlock's heart, as if reminding him to escape as soon as possible.
Although he was anxious, the cunning old follower of Tzeentch did not charge directly into the army formation. He hid in the back, quietly waiting for the Scarlet Skull to gain the upper hand.
The beasts, carrying the warriors of Khorne, charged at all enemies in their sight with an unstoppable momentum.
The redirected magic and gunpowder knocked down half of the army at once, but the rest had successfully closed in on the enemy and began hacking and killing indiscriminately.
Shelent was always paying attention to any movement. He found that the sky was becoming increasingly gloomy, and the sunlight was filled with decadence.
The leaves trembled in the dead, slow wind, as if telling something hoarsely.
Just as Shelent's conservative thoughts were responding to another gust of dead wind blowing through him, he discovered something was wrong.
His body was as numb as a dead man's, and his mind was not as sharp as before.
The sticky liquid rolled in his skull, and the dirt and fallen branches in his eyes moved like an illusion.
The trees and faded flowers bore fleshy fruits that screamed and rolled greasy on the ground. The plants and animals in Shelent's vision were reborn, and their extraordinary fertility quickly filled the warlock's eyes.
With the cooperation of their former opponents, Green and the knights quickly dispersed the cowardly warlock army. It was not easy for the beastmen to send out so many horned beasts. They were once boundless and moved in the forest like a tide.
But today, after the "Great Holy War", it is really difficult to find some large-scale herds of beasts in Duncanwald Forest.
Before praying to Khorne, the White Wolf Knights company that Green served in had launched several campaigns to clear out the wild beasts in the forest.
The pleasant sound of sharp axes and blunt hammers grinding flesh and blood is the melody of killing. The warriors shout the name of the Blood God wantonly and kill selflessly.
The unknown group of warlocks fled in fear, because their weak magic was not enough to kill the toughest knight, and their guns could not easily penetrate the iron armor.
Like every warrior, Green locked onto the screaming heads and chased the warlock closest to him.
His feet sank into the soft, warm earth, and every time he lifted them he brought up a puff of stickiness.
The experienced soldier quickly realized something was wrong, but he lowered his head even slower than the old villager. When he finally moved his gaze to the ground with difficulty, he actually ignored the lumps of soft light green flesh.
This is how the ground should be, this is the real ground.
Green shuttled through the dense forest, the bony tree trunks rubbing against the knight's sides, and the slippery vines roamed among the branches like maggots, occasionally falling down mischievously and passing over the heads of mortals.
The oily liquid dripped from the treetops, creating a heavy rain for the mortals.
Everything was so normal.
Lynch quickly moved the sacrifices and threw them almost at the same time outside the sacrificial circle, to the edge of the forest where the unnatural space did not overlap.
In order to prevent the visitor from returning empty-handed, the lizard man walked into the magic circle to make up for it.
There has to be a sacrifice.
At such times he was always more active than before and extremely enthusiastic.
(End of this chapter)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
