Chapter 320 Legendary Warriors
The stinking poisonous wind brought the smell of the enemy, and the decadent atmosphere that was more decadent than late autumn set off a huge wave in the material world, bringing disease and despair to all living things in the south.
Rune masters had to convert runes and no longer seek to use rune anvils to kill enemies, but simply use the power of runes to protect themselves.
The bleak cold wind had emotions, and the desolate snow fell from the sky, spreading numbness and stupidity.
The clear world in the north was suddenly covered by thick yellow fog. The shit-yellow smoke was stirring, and sickly green spores gushed out from the smoke and shot straight towards the dwarf army.
Yellow clouds exploded from the dwarves' neat array. The fog of disease spread among the tough ancient race, but the tenacious dwarves gritted their teeth and resisted it.
Not to be outdone, the dwarven artillery sent out a greeting gift to the uninvited guests from the north. Loud cannon fire rang out one after another, composing the sounds of death in varying order.
The fog was dispersed by the bright cannon light, and the deformed Chaos humans were exposed to the dwarves' sight.
They were Chaos Warriors, and the Chaos Lord in their lead stood high atop a bloated, diseased elephant. Even though he was swollen, the dwarves could still recognize him - he was Valmir Eslin.
"Eslin people!"
The sharp-eyed dwarves passed on the news of the enemy's arrival to their slower companions. Even though this put them at a disadvantage, it could not stop their eager hatred from boiling over and erupting like a volcano.
Right here, the time for revenge is right here.
There is no need to retreat or avoid battle.
All dwarves are willing to give their lives to erase this hatred.
Even if the casualties were heavier than initially expected, it would be worth it.
Even if after this battle, the dwarf city-states in the north are no longer as lively as before, it is better than letting the blood feud weigh on the dwarves' hearts.
I just don’t know why these Norse people have become what they are now. Maybe this is evidence that they brought the plague.
"Short beard who can't drink, get out of here! Let me go first!"
"Ha? You're a three-hundred-year-old butcher, you coward. Cover your beard and hide behind the wall!"
“Hahahahaha~”
Even the endless artillery fire could not cover up the laughter on the west side of the dwarf line. Even within the blockade, the sudden stop of the roar of teams of dwarves could not eliminate the moment's joy.
The two butchers, one old and one young, did not fight on the spot, because they were soon summoned to the battlefield together to face the Chaos warrior who was almost a god.
The champion on the Flesh Hound had been shrouded in blood mist. If it weren't for dozens of Giant Butchers who risked their lives to lead him to the edge area further away from the center formation, he would have destroyed the dwarf's rune cannon by now.
Maybe you can go a step further and just lure the brainless idiot out of the battlefield - every butcher and berserker has thought of this trick.
A champion who is obsessed with killing cannot see the abyss.
The plague cloud seriously affected the accuracy of the dwarf artillery. One after another, strange monsters rushed out of the smoke and crashed into the shield formation of the dwarf warriors.
At first the enemy's attack did not affect the dwarf's formation.
When more and more strange Chaos Warriors, who looked like carriers of the plague, rushed out from the smoke, no matter how stubborn the front line was, it could not hold.
Even an iron water tank cannot hold water several times its capacity.
"Hold your ground!"
"Stop it, don't let the gap get bigger!"
The pounding of the rune anvil became more and more intense, as if it was going to smash the ancestral relic to pieces.
One by one, the ancient war engines overheated. Every rune master was hurt by the strange reaction of the treasure, but they had to continue to stimulate the power of the anvil.
Chaos spread among the dwarf army. If it were any other race, they would have collapsed long ago.
But the stubborn dwarves were stronger than the mountains. Relying on their excellent armor and the bloody courage brought by hatred, the long-bearded dwarf led the young dwarves to stabilize the situation.
The situation was more optimistic than their worst-case scenario. Even if the Eslin tribe suddenly took advantage of the situation and attacked, they were confident that they could defeat the enemies attacking from two directions.
Only maybe half the dwarves will stay here.
The sound of some sharp weapon piercing the air came from further north, but was blocked by the endless explosions.
The sharp whistling sound was getting closer and closer, lengthening and spreading in the yellow mist, and finally erupting into a tearing sound louder than a cannonball.
The offensive of the Eslin tribe, which was attacking the north side of the dwarf army, suddenly slowed down, as if something horrible in the fog was tearing their flesh and blood and devouring the bodies of the Chaos tribe.
The surging clouds became more and more violent, and when another round of shells fell into the fog, its tolerance seemed to have reached a threshold and it became sparse like a faded color.
A deformed troll was thrown out of the fog, carried high into the sky by its terrifying brute force, and then, in front of the astonished gazes of the dwarves, it smashed into the Chaos Lord who was dodging in the hail of artillery fire.
An anti-common sense chill filled the hearts of all living beings who witnessed this scene. Even a butcher who drank fifty barrels of liquor would not dare to boast that he could throw the troll away.
That was a huge monster that was almost as tall as the city gate. Being able to throw the troll into the air only meant that the other party could also pick up the heavy artillery with one hand and throw it into the sky like a toy.
What is that? A Chaos Champion, or a Sky Titan? Is this Thoros?
On the iceberg on the north side of the battlefield, the dwarves and elves who were rushing towards the battlefield suddenly stopped.
"Reckless Bear" Karado stared blankly at the monsters that were thrown out of the fog, and couldn't help turning to look at Noel, questioning him with a confused look.
"Is he Thoreau?"
"It should be"
"Is Thoreau a species?"
“Probably”
"Can every Thoreau be like this?"
Noel calmed himself down and shook his head with difficulty. A giant elephant head rolling into the distance from the mist made him completely stiff.
The glowing lizard man that flashed past them was definitely not a normal creature.
The Chaos Lord Valmir struggled to crawl out from under the heavy troll corpse, but before he could stand up, he was completely crushed under the mountain of flesh by the giant that fell from the sky.
Blood flowed from the flesh cut by sharp weapons, and the festering face of the Plague Giant just blocked Valmir's gap to freedom.
The Chaos Lord used his battle axe to cut the giant's flesh with great difficulty, trying to break out of the body.
But he failed to do so.
He didn't know what kind of monster he had provoked. He was just heading south as usual, without any complications, and was just fighting against the dwarves.
The dwarves don't have warriors strong enough to throw a half-giant away.
At least it is not something that mortal men can do, not even the ancient dwarf kings could do it.
An unknown object was thrown at him again by an unknown enemy. The heavy pressure completely deprived Valmir of the strength to struggle. In unbearable agony, he was crushed to death under the mountain of flesh.
(End of this chapter)
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