Battle

Arthas' unique mount - Greyscale Bird

Those giant beetles were the size of Asian elephants, their thick black armor turned glossy, and six thick and powerful legs spread out on their sides. Their compound eyes are greenish-yellow and the size of a saucer, which makes one feel sick.

The giant beetles seem to be used as a kind of domestic animal for heavy loads, because each carries several cargo-like packages behind it, fastened with ropes. In addition to the shell beetle, there are several strange mounts in the caravan. There is a hairless stray bird that looks like an enlarged version of an ostrich. There is also a large gecko-like lizard, each carrying several people on its back.

Seeing a rider approaching, the caravan's scouts immediately sounded the alarm, and everyone, including the driver on the Beetle, jumped onto the sand to form a loose line, seemingly intending to resist to the end.

"Kill them all!" The leader ordered majestically, speeding up his horse and rushing forward. The riders shouted violently and rushed towards each other with Muhadi wrapped in them.

"Kill!" The leader took the lead and slashed at a young man dressed as a soldier in the line. The man didn't dare to confront Ma Li directly, but after a moment of dodging, he was still slow, and the leader cut off his right hand holding the sword.

However, this young guard was extremely tough. Although his right hand was broken, he caught the falling knife with his intact left hand. At this time, the second rider also arrived, and the guard hurriedly blocked, but was chopped to the ground by the whole person, and then several riders trampled over mercilessly.

Muhadi felt that the other party was probably some innocent businessmen and travelers, and his own side was obviously the robbery sand bandit. Although he is not a soft-hearted person, it is extremely resistant to really want to join the killing himself. This is different from the duel last night. Both sides of the duel are voluntary, and the poor people in front of them obviously passively accept the fate of being robbed and killed. Look around, though each rider seems fully committed to the fight. But Muhadi felt that there were a few watching eyes cast on him from time to time. Obviously, the elf herders did not completely trust him and were observing their performance. According to the parlance on Earth, this battle should be considered a name-call.

There were a lot of people in the caravan, more than a hundred, which was several times more than the number of nomadic riders where Muhadi was. But nearly half of them are women, and there are several children, so naturally they are completely unable to resist. The elf riders carefully adjusted the rhythm, sometimes charging on their horses, sometimes keeping their distance cunningly, pulling out the recurve bows behind them and using cold arrows to weaken their opponents little by little.

In every part, the riders carefully maintained their numerical superiority, and every caravan escort had to face the machete from several directions. When everyone fell, the riders ruthlessly urged the horses to trample on them in case someone pretended to be dead. The scene was completely chaotic. Some brave guards tried in vain to protect the people around them, while others formed a small formation of three or four people back to back to cover each other.

Women, even children, took up arms to resist, futilely resisting with daggers, fists, even teeth and nails, and then one by one, they were slashed from behind. Some women smashed the baby in their arms against the sharp blade in the rider's hand, and then rushed up to hug the other party and drag it under the horse, just to give the man around him a chance to kill the enemy.

Although a few riders were unfortunately injured, the elves still had the upper hand. Mohadi saw that the performance of several riders was particularly eye-catching. The slightly old-fashioned leader wielded his knife flexibly, like an extension of his own arm, and he was free and unrestrained, and he hardly missed the knife. Fatumai also uses a knife in one hand and a dagger in one hand. She is short and can only attack on the back of a horse, but her speed is surprisingly fast, making it almost impossible to capture. The young man who had encouraged Muhadi with a smile before was also very powerful. His machete was cunning and cunning, and it was almost impossible to guard against it. As for Hassan, it was probably because of his wrist injury. Although he swung the machete wide open and closed, his momentum was overwhelming, but he was always narrowly avoided by his opponent, only injuring the enemy but not fatal.

Muhadi himself also pretended to enter the battle, but he just wandered on the edge and picked a few injured guards to attack. The horse under his crotch is extremely powerful, and it can easily overturn the enemy when it gallops up. Muhadi sits on the horse and almost no one is threatened.

In less than three minutes, the entire battle was over, and there were only a few places where the sound of crying and fighting was still heard.

Fatuma chased a child who was desperately running deep into the desert on his horse and knocked him down mercilessly. Muhadi twitched in his heart and chased after him. "Fatuma!"

"What, is something wrong?" The girl narrowed her eyes and looked at the boy, "There is no blood on your body... and there is not much on the knife."

"I'm not very good at fighting right away, and I only dealt with a few guards on the periphery." This is true. Judging from the average level of these elf nomads, if I had a duel with Hassan immediately yesterday, it must not have survived Muha. Dee.

"Forget it, it's fine if you're not injured." Fatuma controlled the horse to trample the fallen corpse again. At this distance, Mohadi could already see clearly that the corpse on the ground was not a child, but more like a miniature version of an adult. "dwarf?"

"Halfling. You idiot. Even the amnesia isn't so complete. I really wonder where you grew up, the son of some witch king, some prince?"

What the hell is the Witch King? Muhadi didn't understand at all. Had to change the subject. "Then why are we chasing these people?"

"I don't know," Fatuma said. "I don't care either. Red Hand Stitch does the job. I'll just do it, whatever the reason."

It turned out that the leader's name was Stitch, and Muhadi asked, "So what should we do now, should we retreat like this?"

Fatuma sighed, and her sigh looked very good-looking, "You really don't understand anything, my slave. Now we naturally have to collect the spoils and deal with the corpses."

"Although the job I received is to kill all the people, but since the person is already dead, then all the things here will naturally belong to us. This is also one of the rewards of the mission."

Muhadi listened carefully, and suddenly noticed that just behind Fatuma, there was some movement from a damaged caravan truck. "Be careful!"

A short arrow was shot out of the truck and headed straight for Fatuma. The girl heard the warning and hurriedly bent over, dodging the blow dangerously and dangerously.

Mohadi jumped off his horse, stepped forward quickly, and used a machete to lift the broken curtain of the truck, "Who is it?!"

A thin figure jumped out, and Muhadi didn't have time to think about it, and threw the machete in his hand. The man was hit by the back of the knife, cried out in pain, and fell to the side.

It was actually a girl. Muhadi looked at the attacker lying on the ground in surprise. She was quite delicate, wearing a fitted linen dress, and her eyes were full of hatred. Just as the girl was about to struggle to stand up, Fatumai whipped her with a horsewhip and knelt down trembling.

"What a beautiful chick." Fatuma appreciated, "Well done, Muhadi, it seems that you know the patron. This chick is a treat for you, just ride as you like. But remember to hurry up, we will be there before dark. To pull out."

"It's mine?" Muhadi didn't grasp the situation for a while, "Didn't the leader of Stitch order them to kill them all?"

"You don't understand anything, my slave." Fatuma explained, "She is yours now, you can ride her and enjoy her as you like. But when we start, it will naturally kill her."

The girl kneeling on the ground trembled as she listened to the exchange between the two, and tears of anger and fear rolled down the sand. Fatumai continued, "It seems that this chick is beautiful, but she has no meat. Even if she is about to start, she will have time to clean up."

"How to clean up?" Muhadi asked suspiciously.

"The head was cut off, and then the muscle and fat were removed. There is a shortage of food in the desert. In case of a big sandstorm, we will not run out of food."

"You can eat human flesh?" Muhadi asked in shock.

"Of course, we are a nomadic tribe of elves." Fatuma replied proudly, "but you are not comprehensive, we don't only eat humans, elves, and halflings, we also eat. Since you joined our tribe, you will learn."