Chapter 1401： pinch of mouse hair

The owner said that the so-called "Big Horn Legion" was simply a gang of rabble, not worthy of letting the wolf warriors take action in person.

It is up to us "good rat people" to eliminate those "bad rat people".

It just so happens that we can also prove our loyalty to our masters and ancestors in this way.

The owner said that as long as I can prove my ability and loyalty, I no longer have to be a tomb robber, and I can get rid of the name "corpse dog" and become a real warrior, qualified to participate in the battle of glory.

In this way, I was assigned a tattered bone knife and a shield made of a large tortoise shell, and together with other tomb robbers, I went to the battlefield in confusion.

For me, killing the "bad rat people" has no psychological burden.

After all, "rat people" is just a general term. Everyone has different bloodlines flowing in their bodies, and they also have all kinds of strange and different appearances. It is really difficult to have the feeling of "one's own".

Even if it is my own person, I believe that for "good rat people" or "bad rat people", death is a kind of happiness, and living is never-ending pain.

I sharpened and sharpened the bone knife.

Make sure that the blade is sharp enough to sever the throat of the "bad rat people" on the opposite side, so that these compatriots who have never known each other can usher in relief without pain in the shortest time possible.

And I look forward to meeting an opponent who is as particular about me as I am, and stabs me neatly in the throat, so that I can die sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately, the owner was right.

This so-called "Big Horn Legion" of the Rat People's rebels is indeed a rabble that is vulnerable.

Only relying on the hastily armed tomb robbers, plus a few slave soldiers and servants, led by a few strong wolf clan, we defeated the main force of the Big Horn Legion without any suspense.

The team I was in even cut melons and vegetables all the way into the lair of the Big Horn Legion.

There, I met a woman whom the Ratfolk rebels called "The Holy Maiden."

No, she is too young, many years younger than me.

Not so much a woman, but a little girl.

Although her appearance is unremarkable, this mysterious and unpredictable girl possesses a very special ability.

Through your own dreams, you can connect the spirits of everyone around you.

This ability, on the one hand, enables her to experience the pain, fear and despair of thousands of rat people with empathy, possessing a depth and maturity far beyond appearance.

On the other hand, the huge pain stimulated her tender heart, beyond the limit she could bear, so that she completely closed her soul, closed at the age of seven or eight, even only three or five years old, still innocent, There is no need or understanding of the age of this cruel world, enclosed in the innocent and incomparably beautiful dreams that she has created.

How could such a little girl who has penetrated the darkness of the world but chose to escape in her dreams become a qualified and true "Holy Maiden"?

I didn't kill her.

But when I found her, she was dying.

Although he has an innate talent.

But this "Holy Maiden" does not have the ability to use totems to control talent like my master.

There is not enough golden mandala fruit and witch doctor's secret medicine to fill the hungry brain and body after stimulating talent.

And when she was stubbornly resisting, she ignored the pain that her brain was about to burn and burst, and overdrawn her talent again and again, trying to drag us all into her dreamland.

As a result, she was attacked by her talent.

about to die in front of me.

Before she died, she was still flooding my brain with her dreams.

There are tens of thousands of bad rat people who joined the Big Horn Legion, and the nightmares formed by the pain and despair they experienced first-hand.

There are also beautiful dreams that the saintess weave in order to help everyone escape the pain.

I don't know her intentions.

Did you see my identity as a Rat People, and wanted to persuade me to betray my master, stand on the side of the Rat People rebels, and inherit the banner of the Great Horn Legion?

Or do I simply want me to carry on with the emotions and memories of so many Rat People rebels, as if carrying their souls?

It's ridiculous.

I'm like a wisp of rat hair that's been blown up by the gust of wind, inconsequential and involuntary.

To live or to perish, when will it be my turn to decide?

The only thing I could do under the influence of ghosts and gods was to hug the corpse of the saint and close her eyes.

The Great Horned Legion was destroyed.

And my host kept his promise.

I finally got rid of the identity of the tomb robber.

Was incorporated into a slave army team, and even became a team captain.

The master is even very rare, and the one who humbles the noble, whips me with his own hands, and encourages me to be brave and not afraid of death, to fight bravely, to wash away the lowly blood, to defend the glory of the ancestors, and to live up to the master's appreciation.

I was pumped and grinned.

Heart is very happy.

Not because of the master's encouragement.

It's because I'm about to charge as a slave soldier to face the defenses of dwarven artillery, elf poison arrows, and magicians.

Now, can I always die?

With this aim in mind, I have trained harder than any other Rat Slave soldier.

While adding countless scars to his body, he also mastered more and more killing techniques.

I do my best to fulfill the master's order and win the master's favor and trust.

Just to be able to stand as far forward as possible and die more happily when charging into battle.

However, whenever it's quiet at night and I'm clearly exhausted, I should have fallen asleep.

But always have a lot of weird dreams.

It was the Saintess of the Great Horned Legion, the dreams that poured into my mind.

That is, those Rat People rebels, the common memory, emotion and will.

It's strange, those Rat People rebels are clearly living the same miserable and hopeless life as me, who was a tomb robber in the past.

But before they died, the most shining memory was not filled with the pain of their entire lives.

But those insignificant, fleeting, beautiful and happy moments.

A wild flower growing by the roadside.

A particularly luscious mandala fruit.

A rude joke.

A hard hug.

When winter comes, a nest of warm weeds, a pile of unextinguished bonfires, and a fragrant grilled fish.

These are the humble memories like dust.

Support the Ratfolk rebels, live and fight until they die like a true warrior.

I can not understand.

However, it seems that I was bewitched by the Holy Maiden, and I also remembered that in my life as dark as the eternal night, it is not without moments that shine like stars.

I remember I once had a friend.

It is a master at catching toothworms and fighting toothworms.

Whenever we huddle together in the depths of the tomb, in the dark, damp silt, out of sight of the master.

He would encourage me to hunt for worms everywhere.

The worms he caught, two big high-pitched teeth, big and sharp, could bite other people's worms to the brink of blood every time, and helped us win an unknown number of mandala fruits.

Of course, this friend is long dead.

Falling into a trap, being stabbed to the core, full of holes.

Just like any other friend.

But I will never forget that he once caught the majestic and domineering giant toothworm like a chief.

And the heartfelt smile when he waved the big toothworm.

To see his smile, even, just think of his smile.

I also laughed involuntarily.

Suddenly, I didn't want to die so much.

Perhaps, the "Holy Maiden" really implanted something in my brain before she died.

Implanted...the drive and meaning to live.

Unfortunately, motivation and meaning alone are not enough.

The Era of Glory has come.

Murderous horns and fiery battle cries resounded from every corner of the banks of the Turan River.

The five major clans, various vassal tribes, the Rat People's servants and slave soldiers... all mobilized to turn Turanze into a large military camp.

The great chief of the golden clan, the Lion clan's strongest "horn of destruction", defeated the heroes in the battle of the five clans, and of course ascended the throne of "war chief" and became the supreme commander of the Turan army.

No force can stop the outbreak of war.

There seems to be no power that can prevent me from dying meaninglessly as cannon fodder under the light of the Holy Light.

Just when I was about to admit my fate.

In the southern part of Turanze, the fog that had enveloped the Fang Mountains for an entire prosperous era suddenly disappeared.

From the depths of the Fangshan Mountains, a group of black-haired and black-eyed weirdos who called themselves "earth people" came out.

The Tusk Mountains are towering into the clouds, dozens of peaks are more than ten thousand arms high, and they are washed straight up and down by the rushing water, smooth as a mirror, and there are strong winds, rainstorms and thunder, lingering around the entire mountain range, raging all day long. Even the strong eagle and falcon of the Thunder Clan are extremely difficult to cross the top of the Fang, and even the mandala tree, which the Turan people depend on for survival, cannot extend its roots all the way to the depths of the Fang Mountain.

What's more, the most fertile place in this world has always been the Land of Light to the north of Turanze.

The Temple of Holy Light stands in the center of the earth and contains most of the resources.

The land of Turanze was not as fertile as the Land of Light.

Further south, in the depths of the Tusk Mountains, nature is more sinister and barren.

As for going south through the Fang Mountain Range, you will reach the rough sea, and there is no living space for the Turan orcs.

Therefore, for nearly ten thousand years, the fangs, claws and swords of the orc warriors have always pointed to the rich and prosperous north.

No fool wants to go to the Tusk Mountains for a thankless effort.

Even before the last prosperous era, the Fang Mountains were suddenly shrouded in mist, and the winds, torrential rains, and thunders surrounding the entire mountain range became more violent, turning into an insurmountable moat. .

Who would have thought that from behind Turanze, a super city bigger than Chijin City would suddenly emerge?