From Skaven to God of War

Chapter 235: Bloodline Glory, No, Glorious Bloodline

Right in front of the rat battle, his intuition was very accurate.

There was indeed a force waiting for him here.

A position is being built in an orderly manner, and a human army is stationed here.

A magical light exploded in the sky, creating a gorgeous firework. Everyone in the area could see this gorgeous firework.

However, only a wizard standing on the watchtower of the outpost responded. He pulled down a pair of jewel-encrusted glasses and began shouting loudly to the people at the bottom of the outpost.

Soon, the news was delivered to a tent behind the position. Inside, a capable middle-aged man was standing in front of a sand table, thinking about something.

He was fully dressed in armor. Although he did not wear a helmet, he kept it in his hand and placed it beside him.

There weren't too many unnecessary patterns on the armor, making it look very plain, and it also made him seem a little out of place compared to the noble knights, big and small.

He was the commander of the army, the greatest nobleman in the area, a distinguished baron.

Although Baron is not a very great title.

But it is also a title that many knights dream of. Even the lowest-ranking noble is still a noble. No one has the right to command him except the lord who granted him the fief, even the earl in person.

And although he is only a baron, he is indeed the uncrowned king of this area.

He has twenty-four knights, forty villages, and twelve manors under his command. His will is implemented in every corner of this land. When he launches a call, all in this area begin to gather.

But I still feel uneasy.

The center of power in this province is still in that magnificent city. The turmoil has attracted the attention of too many nobles, and they have no time to pay attention to this marginal corner.

But this turmoil is not that simple.

He is not young anymore.

But this is his territory, this land is his land, and he will not leave.

The nobles were indeed no longer as good as their ancestors during the long period of peace, in those exciting years when the empire had not yet fallen into bloated and decadent form over time.

Heroes and epics echoed in this land all the time. It was an era of pioneering, but also an era of blood and fire.

Wearing simple armor and bringing some ragged guys with them, they dared to march towards the wilderness with torches in hand.

If things go well, it means drinking fine wine, scorching the earth with fire, taking root in the wilderness and writing your own story.

If things don't go well, then we will sing loudly and die in the mountains and wild lands.

In those wild years, the glory of a knight was his own achievement, and the weight of the family was carried by death. It might take a family ten generations to open up a forest, and each generation died in this inconspicuous forest.

This is what brought about the retreat of barbarism and the glory of civilization.

Those years were so exciting, yet so short.

The vast territory gradually became difficult to control, the grand development came to a halt, the empire and mankind prospered and decayed in time, the enterprising knights gradually lost their edge, and no longer used their achievements to create their own glory and write stories, but took out the book of merit called bloodline, and began to decorate their own gates with the history that had passed away.

Be complacent about a story that is not your own.

The legends and heroes engraved in the blood are noble, but it is important to understand that it is the blood that is noble because of the heroes who engraved the legends.

It's not that you are noble because of your blood.

However, the heroic era that has passed has left something for the current nobles. Occasionally, some guys will become like their ancestors in this decadent environment.

For example, this baron has a long, narrow, hideous scar on his face, and one of his eyes has turned dull and gray because of the scar.

He is an ambitious guy, enterprising, unruly, and heroic. These words can be used to describe him, the young him.

When he was young, this area was not stable. There was a large goblin tribe entrenched in the forest. While dormant, they built a kingdom that did not belong to humans. Even the overlord of the forest, the terrifying giant earth bear, was kept in captivity by these goblins.

At this point, the goblins were of course unwilling to hide in the dark forest any longer. They felt that they could no longer remain dormant, and drove a large number of monsters to begin harassing the human territory on the edge of the forest.

At that time, the insects in the cities were still so sluggish. A brave viscount was unwilling to retreat and began to gather forces to deal with it, but he was killed by the giant earth bear driven by the goblins.

He seized this opportunity and stood up at that critical moment.

That war was the glory of his life, even though he lost a lot for it. He stroked his left shoulder armor, which was the most exquisite part of his armor, even more dazzling than the family emblem engraved on the breastplate.

A lifelike giant bear head was carved out, and an ochre-colored gem was inlaid where the eyes should be.

When those cowardly guys abandoned their territories and fled to the rear for refuge, he stood up.

It was his honor to defeat the expanding Goblin Kingdom and kill the Goblin King together with the giant earth bear.

His greatest glory.

Although he had a scar on his face during the war, and although he was turned into the alien baron after the war, he didn't care.

However, the turmoil caused by this incident is far from over.

In fact, he should not have fallen to this point, but after the war, he chose the most radical and wanton approach and took over all the territories of those escaped nobles.

Even after the war, there is no thought of returning it.

This naturally broke the rules, but he had already divided up the large tracts of land early on during the war, and many civilian soldiers who fought for him obtained territories, including the territories of those who escaped from the nobles.

He didn't think there was anything wrong with this, and he didn't give in to the cowardly guys who turned back.

The young man said that if anyone was not convinced, then they could just fight and see for themselves.

As a price, a coalition army rushed towards him just after he finished fighting with the Goblin Kingdom.

The last war had just ended, and he immediately led his army to fight against the coalition of nobles who had arrived and formed a network of nobles who had lost their territories.

In that battle, there were three viscounts participating in it, attacking him, while on his side there was only himself and the civilian knight standing behind him.

The gap in strength between the two sides was huge, but in that war, he was still the final winner.

That day, he rode a warhorse, not looking like a noble at all, with disheveled hair and blood all over his body, and came to the front of those losers.

I laughed out loud at their dark and frightened expressions.

Since then, those guys never came again, and he was excluded from the aristocratic circle.

The price he paid was not just this. He lost one eye in that war and was pierced through the body by a long sword, leaving behind old wounds that were difficult to heal. In the years that followed, whenever it rained, he would cough and his mouth would be filled with smelly black blood.

He became a cripple. The funny thing was that he did not fall into such a miserable state in the Goblin Kingdom, but fell into this state in the attack of his own people. At this moment, it seemed as if the scene many years ago appeared again, but this time it was not the endless Goblins that emerged from the forest, but the Skaven.

What's the difference?

The human army is busy setting up its positions and preparing for war.

The wizard cast a spell to raise a slope from the ground, and archers with uneasy looks on their faces were lined up here. From their equipment, it could be seen that they were not well-trained soldiers.

In fact, most of the guys on this position are not well-trained professionals.

The warriors who were recruited here not long ago, wearing simple leather armor and holding long wooden spears in their hands, all had red faces. The movements of holding the long wooden spears were like wielding a pitchfork in the fields, which was particularly tense.

Most of the archers were like this, holding an exaggeratedly longbow in their hands, standing somewhat uneasily on the earth slope raised by magic.

Of course, there are some guys who are still acceptable. There is a team of crossbowmen who wear an extra layer of chain mail on top of their leather armor. They are carefully maintaining the crossbow arrows in their hands with the animal fat in their bags while waiting for the war.

The bowstrings, wiped with grease, are stretched straight, and you can also see the daggers that are uniformly issued to these crossbowmen. They are not just ranged units.

Many mercenaries were added to the battle line. They were more brutal and their equipment varied. They ranged from full body armor with the emblems worn off to bare chests with only a leather apron wrapped around their waists.

But their momentum is far superior to those militiamen who were recruited not long ago.

They often carry various battle axes.

As time went by, more and more outposts were built, and the military mages no longer used spells, but instead climbed up the outposts.

In the tent, in front of the sand table, the army's supreme commander, the capable middle-aged man, picked up the helmet beside him.

Stepping out of the tent, the knights were already ready.

There were twenty-four people appearing in front of this capable middle-aged man, not one less, although the personnel may have changed.

They were no longer the same knights as before. He saw a few particularly young guys among them.

As time went by, the pain brought by the war caused those old friends to pass away before him.

But now, their descendants, their successors, are already standing before them.

He put on his helmet. At this moment, the knights in front of him all knocked on the armor on their chests.

"Your Excellency the Great Bear Hunter!"

Cheered loudly, the capable middle-aged man in the helmet grinned.

Yes, that's right, isn't that why he does these things?

This was what he specifically instructed his old friends to do after the war.

When you meet him, don't call him by his name, call him Mr. Bear Hunter.

He drew the long sword from his waist and shouted loudly.

"Alright! My fellow bear hunters! It's time to go to war!

We will not back down this time!"

Although he is already quite old, he still shouts like this without any scruples.

There was a burst of laughter on the field. A group of older guys couldn't stop laughing at this moment, and the capable middle-aged man didn't care at all.

Due to injuries, he has not been on the battlefield for a long time, and these old friends in front of him have not gathered together for many years.

He was glad that he and they were still able to laugh heartily.

On the contrary, the young knights who took over were a little overwhelmed.

Just looking at the scene in front of him, looking at those uncles and aunts who were usually serious but now could joke with the lord without any scruples and laugh, looking at the lord who didn't care at all.

Their fathers always had an inexplicable look on their faces when they mentioned the Lord.

They had never really understood why this was happening before, but now they seemed to understand a little.

The middle-aged man strode forward, head held high and chest puffed out, with a calm look on his face. The corners of his mouth were raised high and never dropped. He stepped forward step by step. Even though the dark and smelly blood gradually began to flow out of the corners of his mouth, he didn't care at all.

Came in front of a group of knights.

He put the ordinary sword in his hand back to his waist, and the knights behind him, who were also no longer young, stood straight and puffed out their chests at this moment.

Qiqi slapped the armor on his chest again, raised his head high, and tried his best to show his most powerful scene to the middle-aged man in front of him who did not turn his head.

The young knights were somewhat slow to react, but they quickly found their positions and stood straight.

The war is about to begin.

In the distance, in the darkness, a group of huge ratmen appeared.

The rats have arrived.

The knights all mounted their horses.

They are the absolute protagonists of this empire and the main force of this war, whether they are the mobilized militia, the more elite manor guards, the mercenaries who arrived following the money, or the mages who have emerged in recent years.

None of them are the real center of this war.

A large number of knight attendants gathered behind the twenty-four knights, preparing for the battle.

The trumpet was blown.

The rats began to run wildly, amid the shouts of the manic figures and the waving of the black flags.

The militia archers began to pull the longbows that were almost as tall as themselves. Although the longbows were simple, they were quite powerful.

The arrow flew towards the ratman with a whistling sound, but it seemed a little crooked.

These militia archers had not received a lot of training and their accuracy was not very good.

However, there were other beings who made up for them. The mage on the outpost began his actions. As he chanted, a green breeze gathered and wrapped around the arrows that were thrown out.

Although the magical power of the Ghost-Eyed People cannot transcend the mysterious boundaries due to the limitations of the world, they themselves have also undergone some changes over a long period of time.

Their magic began to develop in the direction of refinement and functionality.

(End of this chapter)