C55

Black Claw saw the migrating people on the horizon long ago. Almost the entire Black Claw Tribe was packaged, causing the sharp blade in his right hand to scrape like a spasm, producing an ear-piercing, miserable noise.

More than two thousand Black Claw Tribe people, more than one thousand Glimpse Tribe people, as well as hundreds of livestock, parcels, and wheelbarrows wriggled across the red ground.

On the rugged hills on both sides of the road, the Horde Warriors held their breath as they observed the procession walking towards them. The Small Eyed Elder wiped the sweat off his face with a piece of dirty linen, and no one dared to say that two hundred people would be enough to defeat more than a thousand of the high-spirited members of the Blizzard Tribe. At this moment, the anxiety in the air couldn't even be compared to the depression in his heart.

Tens of strong, savage men covered in red sand rushed out, rushed into the formation, and killed any man who saw them with a weapon. These men were all well-equipped, and most of them were equipped with fangs.

Their attacks were precise and swift. A wave of javelins broke through the first wave of attacks, and then the blademaster blocked the first wave of attacks, and then the spear wielder stabbed through the chest of the warrior, pulling out the spear that had pierced his chest. The moment the spear was pulled out, the blademaster roared and rushed into the bloodbath, slashing at the warriors who were holding the spear at the closest distance.

The moment the chaos broke out, the attackers suddenly disappeared with a whistling sound, just like how they suddenly appeared. No one knew how they came, and no one knew how they got there.

Teams after teams of people were organized and chased after the dispersing crowd. At this time, from another direction, people were attacking and showing off their might again. They rushed into the group to kill more than a dozen warriors of the tribe, and then disappeared with their spoils of war.

There was no sky detection, no observation deck. The crowds were constantly changing, and before the sudden attack could even spread to other places, the attackers had already disappeared. By the time the Horde reacted, another area had been attacked.

The attackers were as sly as a fox in the desert. They were also like the buzzing of Mozzie as she constantly nibbled at the team, each time causing only a tiny amount of damage. However, after four or five times, the number of tribal warriors lost had reached over fifty people, almost the same as the number of attackers.

During the continuous attacks, more and more women and children were mixed up with Qi Nu, and more fell apart. The tribe warriors who were supposed to maintain order were killed, and no one stopped them from leaving. When the first person who decided to leave ran out of the line, there would always be a third and a fourth.

It was just that the scimitar in his hand was not a fangs, but a death god's scimitar. The death god's scimitar was the arm of the terrifying death god, among the two death gods, one was burnt to ashes, and the other was the spoils of war.

The scimitar was long and sharp, its fluid shape doubled the speed at which the blade broke the air resistance. The edge of the scimitar was covered with countless small sharp teeth, overlapping layer upon layer, forming an integral edge that was sharper than the fangs and serrated sabers.

He held the scimitar in his hand but didn't feel slippery at all. It was the hilt of the scimitar which was hard to slip through. Every time he swung it, the dragon would cut his opponent's weapon and body in half.

As the slaughter continued, the lightness and nimbleness of the scimitar was fully grasped by the summit, and the speed of the scimitar increased by a bit. After it flashed, the paladin in front of him felt his hand lighten, and his weapon was broken by the force of their attacks. Before he could find another way to continue the fight, a red line appeared on his chest.

On the contrary, he was more clear-headed than anyone else, and even somewhat absent-minded. Because he had always been looking for Little Red Sand, almost every little slave's eyes had been swept by him. There was fear, there was emptiness, there was numbness, and only there was no extremely clear purity in them.

Wherever the peak went, they would go, and after forming into a small group, killing would become simple. At any time, they would have to fight a few people, and they would be able to sneak attacks. There would be no time where they couldn't do anything, and in this accumulation of small victories, they would no longer feel disgust towards the hellish military training they had previously had, but instead feel grateful.

Once again, Feng Feiyun led his ten slave guards to rush through the crowd. He looked at the large group in front of him and the countless women and children, but still didn't feel the pure clarity in their eyes. He couldn't help but stomp his feet fiercely, let out an indignant roar, then turned around and let go of the rocks around him.

In the next moment, the group with the same color as the ground disappeared in front of the eyes of countless people. Borrowing the disguise of the chameleon, Feng Feiyun easily hid himself and his subordinates, catching the shadows of the rocks and quickly running away. When the pursuers behind them rushed into the pile of rocks, they could only follow the footprints and chase them.

"Kill …" The two Gladiator Warriors fell in front of the mountain peak, while the Gladiator Warriors below them took the initiative to encircle the mountain, sending out the warning of encountering enemies. Obviously, they had also thought of a way to deal with the enemy in the shortest time possible, not to kill the enemy, but to stall the enemy for a short time.

"Swish, swish, swish …" The group closed their eyes, forcing them to close their eyes. At that moment, the thrown spears they had prepared fell one by one, and then the mountain peak suddenly rushed forward, instantly cutting off several people's weapons. The servants behind them quickly broke through, and then they drove their way through the crowd.

The number of people who had collapsed was increasing, but there was a new change in the group in front. The snake-like long line slowly absorbed the crowd and gradually spread to the surroundings, and the people who stood at the outermost edge of the group were all brave warriors of the tribe.

Seeing that change, the mountain peak was not in a hurry. With a whistling sound, it turned around and left with its servants, who had not lost a single person, towards those small teams that were chasing the crowd.

The small team consisted of twenty to thirty people, and the distance between them was not too far. If they had attacked earlier, they might have been surrounded and annihilated, but at this moment, the crowd had scattered in all directions and were chasing after them. The distance between the small team and the tribe's warriors had been widened, so they could sense that the battle was over.

From the moment the battle had begun, he had been running, continuously killing, making it hard to count how many enemies the Wasteland Warriors had killed with only the first mark of their merit. However, one thing was clear, in the midst of killing, they had gradually recovered their confidence, gradually forgetting the shadow of their defeat, but they were more respectful towards the peak.

On the first day, ten people in a team, they had to step out at the same time. At the same time, they had to walk in a straight line, the desolate people who had been lazy for hundreds of years already did not know what discipline was, so after they walked for three steps, they released the ducks.

Every time this happened, the energetic Chu Feng lashed out with his whip. With so many whips, even if it was just a pig, the peak would still allow them to take a step forward, let alone these barbarians whose intelligence had not really declined. Unfortunately, three days were too short, even if they marched day and night, these barbarians could only learn how to walk, but never to run together.

However, this was enough. The peak had taught the Wasteland what order and discipline was. It would no longer cause them to lose their minds, and instead, throw away their comrades and charge forward.

In addition, Gao Feng had also introduced a coordinated strategy to the team, giving up on using the first rank as the record of military exploits. He no longer had to chase after the number of enemies, instead, he had to form a whole body across the battlefield, not only increasing the combat effect to the maximum, but also minimizing the losses.

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