Othua's War Banner

Chapter 127 0126: The pace of retreat
Villagers and refugees alike began to gather in the square in front of the altar.

Joan and Mrs. Tennyson were engulfed in it, screaming and falling alternately, the pumice stone above their heads was spinning quietly, and flames had already risen all over the village road...

The heat wave scorched people, and the scorched smell filled the air.

Howling wolves echoed around the altar. The creepy sound came from the long-standing fear in the wilderness. Everyone in Palotus had heard similar stories more or less.

The survivors of Thornton Kaya were even more pitiful.

Because they had only seen it with their own eyes the night before.

"It's okay, it will pass."

"Mother Dong, I beg for your protection."

"May the battle flag return safely and triumphantly, save us..."

We cuddle up to each other.

Someone murmured, someone prayed softly.

Joan heard Mr. Ken's name in the confusion, and she turned her head, only seeing various mournful expressions.

Those refugees who were rescued were also mixed in.

There are all kinds of voices.

Ken announced a long time ago: Everyone can flee before the village gate is closed, and there are indeed many people who left, and most of those who stayed have already lost their will to survive in the blow of displacement and the destruction of their homes. .

Meg Lerbota searched in the swinging shadows.

Sure enough, she did not see the spear leader, but unexpectedly found a curled up trembling girl.

"Joan, come to me."

She stepped forward to hold the thin hand, pulled him out of the chaotic refugee queue, and then said: "Be careful, it is easy to be hostile between different tribes."

"Sorry, Mrs. Tennyson and I got lost."

McGonagall patiently warned, but she saw Joan showing a grateful and pitiful smile, and she remembered that this girl with a southern face grew up in the north.

The scholars spontaneously formed a human wall, protecting the two ladies in the center.

McGonagall hugged Joan and looked back at the chaotic scene. Even at such a dangerous juncture, her acumen as a scholar did not fade away.

"I'm afraid it will be very difficult for me to experience this kind of thing again in other places."

She closed her eyes, and in addition to the dense and messy Uma language, there were also many languages ​​​​of small races in her ears. In front of the same altar, among the prayers, several old gods with classic records appeared.

Can people of different beliefs rely on each other?

Meg couldn't think of an answer.

She hoped that the disaster would end quickly, and that Ken Bouvier would give the North a result.

Joan felt that the hands surrounding her were slightly tight, so she hid her uneasiness, wanted to comfort the other party, and felt that McGonagall must be stronger than herself.

This scene has happened before.

In Joan's memory, since the death of her predecessor, Zhanjing, Thornton Kaya has gradually become lonely.

The living conditions in the northern border are extremely harsh. If you want to survive the war alone, how can you go well?
In fact, the bandits visit every season.

The connection between the surrounding tribes has also decreased year by year. Those enemies who had been separated from each other tried to occupy the entire village. Although they were repelled, Santon Kaya also paid a tragic price.

Joan's pale face looked forward.

The setting sun has lost its brilliance, only the night is getting darker and the chill is getting deeper.

"Don't be afraid..." the villagers exclaimed. "Oh my God, what's that?"

The guards, holding torches, were fleeing to the altar in a panic.

They had just ignited a few magic circles with the largest range, but the werewolf was already approaching, and one unlucky guy slipped on the sole of his foot and fell to the ground while turning.

He stretched out his hand, his face full of horror and despair.

As soon as the strong men took a few steps to help, the flames had already risen, and the blazing fire wall protected everyone in the center, and the secret oil contained in it could resist the attack of the cursed object.

But at the same time, it also cut off the retreat.

The villagers could only watch helplessly:

The guy who fell was still crawling forward, but the shadow that followed completely covered it, and the scarlet eyes lit up, carrying deep hatred and madness...

"what."

The sharp claws passed through the chest, and the scream was fleeting.

The monsters stood up and surrounded the square from all directions. The dark fur and sharp and slender limbs made people's chest heave and they felt suffocated.

In the village, the sounds of organs ringing and flames crackling continued.

The guards rushed back one after another.

They are responsible for igniting the circles in each direction, which is equivalent to closing the gates around the altar one by one.

Time is ticking, and death is pursuing.

The farthest corner of Thornton Kaya has just come into view.

Meng heard a strange rubbing sound, he squinted his eyes and approached quickly, and found that it was the scratching sound of werewolves coming out of the damaged place.

"Damn it!"

The anger in his heart was full, and the familiar sense of collapse was making him lose his mind.

"Ow."

The wolf let out a low gasp, waking up its master with its voice.

"Huh, wake up."

Meng has paid the price more than once for being reckless and out of control. He forced himself to think, and he can do whatever he wants in the future. Now that the situation has been overturned, there must be some means to stop them...

He hadn't prayed to the old gods for a long time, and in such an urgent situation, he couldn't think of any prayer words in his mind.

Who can calm myself down?
A figure from the back appeared in Meng's mind, and he then thought, what would he do if Zhan Jing was here?
"Whoo~"

The spearhead of the Winterzig tribe never surrenders.

Meng bit the flesh in his mouth, swallowing the saliva and rust-smelling blood, he roared to attract the attention of the monsters, and then lunged forward.

The black shadows looked up one after another.

A few werewolves who were injured because of him immediately bared their fangs, and more guys just watched, because there were too many monsters, and there wasn't even enough meat to share.

Meng rushed into the black wave.

His mount also seemed to understand the master's mind, without any hesitation or cowardice at all.

The wolf is lonely because of its unyielding.

The monsters in front of it are only similar in appearance to itself, but in essence, they are all fools with distorted souls.

Meng Xi swung his saber vigorously, flashing quickly, but gradually penetrated into the hinterland.

His suicidal move was actually to break in to take a look, but the result was even more desperate—the hole in the wall was damaged and could not be blocked and repaired in a short time.

"Damn."

Meng's body was already covered in bloodstains, his leather jacket was torn, and his battle armor was covered in scratches.

But at the moment when he was about to die, he led his mount back, and after narrowly avoiding several fatal blows, he completely broke away from the encirclement, turned to set foot on the village road, and ran away without looking back.

Even the werewolves were taken aback.

Their surviving fighting wisdom couldn't figure it out, why did this guy who was so reckless from the beginning to the end suddenly start to retreat?
But this picture is very familiar.

The Qi Bing apostles often see people regretting, seeing people running away, seeing them change from full of hope and fighting spirit to despair...

The ending is destined.

The monsters, who seemed to smell fear, chased after them one after another.

(End of this chapter)