Servant Of The Necromancer

Remembering the Killing Time(1)

Asa ran out of the camp right after Captain Sanders. Although Sanders was in full steel armor, he actually moved faster than he did in full light armor. The other soldiers who were awakened by the whistle also hurriedly grabbed their weapons and ran after them.

Everything could be seen clearly in the bright moonlight. A few figures of varying heights stood silently at the intersection outside the camp, and the soft moonlight could not soften the ominous aura emanating from the weapons they held.

The tallest of them was an ogre. Even in the same race, that body is also very large, twice the height of the average person, five times thick. From head to toe are wrapped in specially crafted iron armor, hands each carrying a small and large wolf tooth hammer to match his body. The moonlight reflected in his body armor and weapons into a sharp cold light.

Next to him were two werewolves. In order not to prevent their high level of agility and speed, they only wore a set of hard leather armor that protected their vitals. The meteor hammer they held was not as huge and scary as the weapon in the ogre's hand, but it was still enough to shatter any armor. There were also three lizardmen, whose armor was the same as the werewolves, and their hands held large swords that were as long as a man. The two Orcs on the far side were each carrying an oversized machine crossbow in their hands.

In the middle of this group of murderous orcs, there is a very thin and small figure in comparison, neither armor, nor weapons, just a cloak, to hide the race and face.

Sanders' face was whiter than white paper in the moonlight. He did not expect the situation to be this bad at all.

More than a month ago, he received an order from the head of the paladin order to secretly lead a group of soldiers to the western wasteland to scout for unusual movements of the orc tribes. For more than ten years, the Western forces have been constantly purging the orcs of various races, and almost all the orc tribes in the western wasteland have been driven to extinction. So although he was specifically told to be careful, he only thought he would encounter some sporadic attacks.

The orcs do not know how to smelt and forge. Whether it is the production of tools or weapons, most of them are simple stone tools. So even if the physical ability and combat power is far superior to humans, but also in front of a well-equipped army is unbeatable.

The various orc races never interacted with each other. These primitive and obscure sub-humans even refused to contact with any other civilization, simply clinging to their own unique way of life and beliefs passed down from generation to generation. A tribe a tribe quietly waiting to be razed to the ground by the iron hoof of the human army.

Now these common sense has been shattered by the facts before us, and it will be a shattering with a strong smell of blood. The well-armed orcs in front of them would never just come to show them.

This is the head of a barren mountain, surrounded by cliffs, Sanders chose to station here because the view is good, easy to defend and difficult to attack. Even if the orcs want to sneak in at night, it can be well defended, there is only a single junction, well guarded to prevent any orcs can come up.

Of course, as long as you stand this intersection, there is no one can escape.

The cloaked figure in the middle of the orcs suddenly moved, seemingly nodding and giving a soft enunciation.

It was a very standard human pronunciation, very relaxed and casual, like a note of approval over a cup of tea in the sun, listening to a friend's small talk.

The ogre next to him was like a valve in his body opened by this soft voice, and like a beast chained to its head and neck, the restraint was now suddenly loosened by a light touch, and immediately let out a startling roar and charged towards the crowd. The huge body and a heavy armor, each step is making the ground tremble slightly, will be all the lives in front of the power of the crushed, all the soldiers are showing a look of fear.

As soon as he saw the orcs, Asa thought about how to escape. He knew the situation very well, these orcs since they can be calm enough to quietly touch up the mountain to guard the intersection, it is absolutely sure to slaughter them more than a hundred people. And he knew even better what an ogre in full heavy armor, wielding that heavy weapon meant. Generally speaking just one ordinary ogre is enough for twenty or so well-armed soldiers to deal with.

The cliffs were high, even with the Dorno River below, and that height was enough to make a man crash into the rocks under the water. But Asa knew that there was a tree in the middle of the cliff behind him, and he tried to douse the branches above it with urine when he urinated. The tree's position on the cliff and the thickness of its branches he knew well enough to slow the impulse of falling to a safe point.

Seeing the ogre rushing this way, he was about to turn around and run when he found a figure beside him suddenly flashed out. It was Saunders with a sword and shield himself, a man rushing head-on toward the ogre.

The army has been frustrated, he wants to use his own strength against the ogre to revive morale.

Shadow staggering, it seems to be the mountain itself issued a loud noise and trembling, the ogre that can be enough to beat ten cattle to pieces of a hammer blow only hit the ground. The contact between Sanders and the ogre was so fast that the soldiers could not see what was happening. After a metal clash, the ogre fell on his back with a loud bang, Sanders flew backwards high into the air, a beautiful backflip, landing firmly back in front of the line, a wave of the longsword in his hand, chanting incantations, the longsword slowly emitted a blue-white luminescence, powerful as a warrior jumped out of the epic myth. Hundreds of soldiers awakened from the panic and let out a deafening shout of excitement in unison.

Asa did not scream, only he could see clearly that the ogre fell on his own.

The moment the two crossed paths, Sanders with amazingly agile movements to avoid the hammer blow, jumped on the ogre's shoulders, lifting his sword and thrusting it toward the slit in the eye between the helmets. And at the same time, the ogre fell on his back, the other hand of a small hammer swung up. Sanders left hand steel shield blocked the hammer blow, using the force to fly backward, but the sword tip has been just a little short of piercing the ogre's eyes.

'Dang' a sound, Saunders dropped the left hand of the small steel shield. The steel shield, which was one inch thick, was completely deformed, and even the curved shield designed to resist heavy weapons like hammer and axe was useless under that kind of power and that kind of weapon.

By the light of the moon, Asa saw that the fingers of Sanders' left hand, which had just held the shield, had been completely deformed, and it was impossible to see that they were once fingers.

Sanders thrust his sword into the ground, his right hand held the twisted fingers, one by one, back to the original shape, the hand glow of recovery magic. Crackling sounds came from between the fingers, beans of cold sweat soaked in the corners of his forehead, his expression did not waver in the slightest, like a torch gaze has been coldly stared at the ogre who rose up in front.

Looking at Sanders' calm, statue-like face, a hot fighting spirit spread rapidly from somewhere in the body, Asa gripped the knife in his hand. He suddenly did not want to escape.

Sanders removed his body steel armor. There is no point in defense, only agility and speed is the only way to win. Both hands gripped the longsword that had been infused with the spirit blade, and as long as he found the right opportunity, he had the confidence to penetrate the armor without having to pick a weak spot, and turned back and shouted, "Give me the blessing." Two priests caught in the crowd began to chant incantations, a haze of white light resonated in them and Sanders floating body.

The two Orcs suddenly jumped onto the shoulders of the werewolves next to them and c****d the crossbows in their hands at the two priests who were clearly targeted.

A priest's head immediately burst open like an egg, blood and brain matter splattered around. The soldier behind him fell on his back without even grunting, blood springing out of the fist-sized hole in his chest.

Another priest next to an experienced warrior, in time to raise the wooden shield for the priest to block, resulting in broken hands and wooden shield fragments together with the spiked iron ball embedded in the priest's face. The warrior let out a wail and fell down with the priest in a strange position.

Saunders sprinted steeply toward the ogre, knowing he had to take out the most lethal behemoth as quickly as possible, at least until the two Orcs reloaded the two machine crossbows.

The figure under the cloak said a few words, and all but two of the Orcs immediately rushed toward the crowd. One of the wolves met Sanders, who was rushing toward the ogre.

The distance of several dozen meters was within reach of the lizardmen's amazing explosive power. Almost just as the soldiers began to notice the movement of the orcs, the three lizardmen had already rushed to them.

The soldiers at the front were as weak as straw under the lizardmen's long knives, and four or five of them fell down after just one s***h. The lizardmen's creeping attack position slashed right on the abdomen, and with a single swing of the one-man-long blade, several people's blood gushed out along with their internal organs. The werewolves that followed next sent at least two soldiers flying with each attack, smashed to a bloody pulp by a huge meteor hammer.

Asa took the attack of a lizardman alone. He charged up against the blade, the killing range of such a long weapon was too great to dodge rather than attack. Lizardmen's strength is only slightly better than that of humans.

Once the weapon is long, the weight is heavy and the trajectory of the swing will be obvious. Asa's first knife was set up near the hilt of the opponent's difficult to fire, sparks flying. The second knife to spell the risk of losing both sides forced the lizardman to return to the knife to resist, until the fourth knife when the lizardman had to drop the big knife to pull out the small axe at the waist to fight, while jumping backwards to open.

Asa returned to the knife cross, fighting spirit, the spirit of pride, shouted: "Come with two people. We can win."

In response, all he heard were screams of misery.