Othua's War Banner

Chapter 120 0119: Living Towards Death
The Blademasters tightened their reins, the steel on their spears gleaming coldly.

Ben Le Iron Fang rolled on the gravel-covered ground, and the snow was dyed bright red, like small flowers blooming, and as the hunting hook swept by, it was stirred into mud again.

"Damn, be careful."

"what!"

Lili, boom.

The two war horses were tripped, and even the rider fell to the ground.

Qi Bing's apostles were extremely brave, and Beile Tie Ya was the representative of them. He adjusted his posture not to buffer, but to trade injuries for lives and put his opponents in danger.

Click!

His hook broke in the dangerous maneuver.

When the Qi Bing apostles heard the commotion, they all looked sideways, and a few who were closer rushed towards them with their two-handed axes and war hammers raised.

The melee continues.

Tu Zhanwa was able to breathe for a few moments, but Ken's "lift and chop" swept across his chest, and life was rapidly abandoning this body.

Faces began to emerge in my mind.

He has fought in this wind and snow wilderness for many years, and countless fresh lives have been extinguished by these hands.

At the beginning, it was a hideous and terrifying face.

At that time, Tu Zhanwa had not abandoned his honor, and as a tribal war sacrifice, he protected his homeland time and time again, so as to make up for his past regrets.

Hawser underestimated the greed of the southern kingdom, and also strangled Tu Zhanwa's fantasy.

He swore to be the Apostle of Paint Ice, and started a long career of slaughter. Farmers, hunters, even women and children... all became the souls of his sword.

Because this group of guys traded with Southern Xinjiang, they were blinded by money and supplies.

If the northern border is immersed in ease, it will lose the motivation and courage to fight. Once Palosby loses its blood, the southern border people will mercilessly swallow it up.

"Be willing to become a ghost, blame all sentient beings."

The most widely spread oath of Apostle Qi Bing is also the principle he believes in.

Tu Zhanwa knew that his sins were serious, so he never screened his opponents. He migrated along the road and walked through the vast northern border. ride……

This lacquered ice apostle has existed for many winters.

At the most, there were thousands of people, and at the least, there were only a few pawns.

Tu Zhanwa was the most unfortunate guy every time, and the god of death never opened his arms to him.

Anyone can kill themselves.

He thought it would be compatriots from the tribe, a remote race, an unknown bandit, or even a child he met when he was exhausted in the battle...

But fate made the cruelest choice.

"People from southern Xinjiang..."

No one may have heard Tu Zhanwa's last words.

After reviewing his life, he was still unable to move, the sound of shouting and killing gradually faded away, his eyes began to blur, and even the pain caused by his breathing and affecting his muscles became less and less.

In the distance, Quima narrowed her eyes.

He mobilized his magic power to guide the [Torrent] to the limit, aimed at Tu Zhanwa and released the bowstring.

whoosh-

Arrows flitting across a swung battle-axe, a frost bear's pelt, a neighing mount...

In the end, it sank into the iron armor, pierced through the flesh and blood, and stuck out its head from the other side!

"Well, cough."

Tu Zhanwa's eyes were pitch black.

He was thankful that he seemed to be killed by a shooter in the end, but the emotion was fleeting as thick, warm blood spattered his face.

Belle Iron Fang's voice rang in his ears.

"I, I know you... vomit, cough..."

Tu Zhanwa's eyes widened, he felt that he was being turned upside down, and heard his subordinates continue to speak.

"You're different from a lunatic, heck, fate has its reasons."

Belle tremblingly took out the blood-stained potion from his arms—this subordinate likes to collect the results of secret arts, most of which are hallucinogenic.

But this glass bottle is different from the previous garbage.

I don't know if it was an illusion after he was seriously injured, or the light was too dark, and the medicine was constantly surging.

The Free Blades didn't wait, and several spears in their hands plunged into the body of the Qi Bing apostle at the same time, and someone was cursing: "You should be buried with my family!"

The enemies in the distance have arrived, and they draw their weapons from their wounds, and fight on again.

"puff."

Bel Ironfang spewed blood, and without a word, he accepted the curse in silence.

Tu Zhanwa was completely turned over, and warm medicine was poured on the wound.

Ding!
The glass bottle fell and hit the armor.

"This is my end..."

Belle Iron Fang's arms hung down, and arrows were constantly increasing on his back. He looked at the leader he was following, and shook his head slightly.

"But it's not yours yet, ah—"

Gritting his teeth and roaring, he squeezed out the last strength of his stump, pushed the strong Tu Zhanwa out of the shallow pit, and watched him roll down the high slope.

Quema's sharp arrow hit only a piece of rag.

He arrived on a wolf and looked down the hillside. There were gullies everywhere, and he couldn't find any targets at all.

The beasts paced back and forth, and wounded enemies fell to the ground, groaning.

Just as Kuima wanted to continue searching, he suddenly looked into the distance, his eyes stared straight for a moment—the main force of the Qi Bing Apostles had already rushed over from other battlefields.

"My God, Mother Winter is here."

A horde of strong, vicious men emerged from the horizon.

The iron totems on their bodies rattled, their winter coats and armors were all stained with blood, and they held all kinds of weapons, just like legendary evil spirits.

Quima turned around hurriedly.

He twitched [Suxiu] and pointed it at Beile Tieya, but the warrior who was roaring and bursting out just now had collapsed into a corpse, and fell into the bloody water with a light touch.

Kuima retracted her bowstring, and rode a wolf towards the distant battlefield.

The wasteland frost bear is still rioting. It swings its giant claws like a rolling stone, crushing any objects higher than the snow. Those red and swollen eyes seem to have lost any consciousness.

Ken retracted the axe.

He charged up to block the claw attack, and split the damage with Langz alternately, slashing heavily from time to time.

Kuima led heavy crossbowmen to support.

Ken pulled away and turned his head to command the northern warriors and cavalry to counterattack.

Gongkaduo Neizhen is not a rational leader.

There is wildness in his bones, and all stalemate will be broken by his moss badger and sword.

"Battle banner..."

Kuima looked worried, but before she could speak, she heard Ken say.

"I know, time is running out."

[The main force of the Qi Bing Apostles is about to arrive, and a direct confrontation in the wild will only wipe out the entire army. You must make a decision as soon as possible. 】

Ken's face darkened.

At this moment, there was a palpitating roar in the chaos.

"Come on, the blood is not enough!"

Accompanied by the wailing of the mount falling to the ground, Luokaduo Neiju looked at Ken across the frost bear.

"Looking at your expression, our follow-up troops should have arrived."

He tied up his messy hair, grinned the corners of his mouth, black flakes danced wildly in his blue eyes.

"Hey, wait, have you seen the werewolf echelon? Although you killed the leader of the blood maple, where will the other werewolves in the echelon go..."

"shut up!"

Kuima twitched the bowstring, but unfortunately shot at the out-of-control Frost Bear.

Luo Kaduo Nei Zhu raised his head and stared.

He opened his arms on a moss badger and shouted with the loudest voice: "Despair, your tribe is already full of dead bodies!"

(End of this chapter)