From Skaven to God of War

Chapter 373, Scarlet Blessing, Bloody Storm
For every intelligent creature, if there are enough of them, there may be some extremely special individuals, individuals that are inherently different from others.

They are the most talented, they can write history, and they are also the most desperate.

Old Sheep Bone, an elderly goblin elder, a guy so smart that he doesn't seem like a goblin.

He had lost all joy in his life ever since he first witnessed the ratman farmer harvesting the goblins. He could no longer run wildly on the grassland and shout loudly like an ordinary goblin.

He wanted to change something.

But even when he was old, nothing had changed for him.

Until now, there is an opportunity.

On the vast grassland, the goblin who was pushed onto the platform was roaring loudly. In the distance, a small army of ratmen appeared at the end of the field of vision. They were not large in size. Compared with them, this group of ratmen was really pitifully small.

Old Sheep Bone doesn't ask for much now. He can even tolerate the ratmen taking away all the old goblins regularly, but he can never accept such unscrupulous bullying.

Of course, there wasn't much he could do.

Being able to do what we have now.

It relies on long-term observation of the rat people and utilizes the rat people's own rules.

It takes advantage of the rat farmers' intimidation of other rats and their wariness of each other.

It is not easy to achieve this step.

It’s a pity that the old goblin wants more. He wants to kill as many ratmen as possible and force them to negotiate or compromise with him.

Just like they did before, after determining the number of ratmen in the distance, this group of goblins decided to take the initiative to attack.

Amid the roars, the goblins began to run wildly, densely packed, carrying all kinds of things in their hands, sticks, stones, bone clubs, ratman spears, some old magic guns, and all kinds of messy things.

A large part of it was looted from the swallowed-up ratmen farmers, who were actually beaten by their own livestock.

However, even if the goblins snatched these old magic firearms, they would not know how to use them, and they had no way to use them. Magic weapons are a system. For example, when the bones dug out from the dark abyss are used up, these magic firearms will immediately be no different from an ordinary iron rod, and they will even be less convenient to use than an ordinary iron rod.

The current warfare mode of these guys is exactly the same as that of the rat people in the wild era.

They gathered together in a huge crowd and rushed towards the enemy, but it was a pity that the rats were no longer the rats of the barbaric era.

Times have changed.

The rats at the end of the field of vision dispersed into a long and narrow formation on the vast grassland. The front row half-crouched, raised the spears in their hands, and started firing in a volley amid the waving flags.

Wave after wave of green beams poured over from afar like raindrops, and the charging goblins kept falling down.

This scene appeared again and again on the battle line with humans and ratmen three years ago. Now, it is finally the goblins' turn to experience such a scene.

These goblins are better than the ratmen of the barbaric era. When they gather in large enough numbers, their morale is much higher than that of the ratmen.

No matter how fast you rush, you will only die faster.

One after another, small magic cannons were pushed onto the battlefield, and all kinds of iron fragments and steel pillars were dumped into the barrels. After the goblins came closer, these magic cannons were activated in unison, and a large amount of iron fragments, wrapped in a mixture of soul power and mottled elemental power, gushed out from the thick barrels.

These are shotguns, and they are extremely effective. Even if the guys hit are wearing enchanted armor, they can be easily shot into sieves, not to mention these goblins who have no protection at all. If you are closer, you will be shot into a ball of blood mist.

These tall rats began to remove the shotguns.

These are valuable things and cannot be damaged easily.

The situation is bad, the morale of the goblins on the front line has reached its limit.

Lao Yanggu was very anxious, but there was nothing he could do about the situation.

But it seemed that God was blessing them. The rats stopped shooting, their precarious morale stabilized, and they were about to rush to the group of rats.

Those who can win will definitely win.

An expression of irrepressible ecstasy appeared on Lao Yanggu's face.

But is it really like that?

On the other side, in the ratman army, Heimao faced the goblins that were about to rush over, faced the huge crowd of goblins, and there was no change in his expression on his face.

It was just a normal shout.

"Kill them!"

The storm rats took off the shields behind them. The magical firearms in their hands had not actually misfired yet. They just took them out to test their quality. It seemed that their new leader was not familiar with magical weapons.

As elite warriors in the Ratman Empire, the first type of professional warriors, all Storm Rats are warriors, professional warriors. They are very well-educated and have the widest range of equipment options, making them true all-rounders.

Just like now.

The storm rats took the tower shields off their backs one by one, and held the spears in their hands and dropped them down, fitting neatly into the spear holes reserved on the tower shields. At an extremely fast speed, a whole new formation appeared.

Like an arrow, its sharp direction was pointed towards the surging goblins.

The emergence of magic resistance structures has allowed the concept of shields and defensive formations to appear on the battlefield again, and Storm Rats are the most suitable for this concept.

These guys were on the northern coast of humanity not long ago, advancing forward in a standard square formation against the magic beams on the battlefield.

Holding high these specially treated defensive shields, these guys can even survive the human elemental chaos cannon, as long as they are not in the center area.

Of course, all this comes at a price. The cost of this kind of magic resistance shield is incredibly high, and after one or two battles, the magic resistance effect will often decrease due to structural damage.

If you want to build such an army, you not only have to invest a large amount of blood mushrooms to purchase equipment at one time, but also prepare a logistics team that can repair these magic resistance equipment, or sign long-term maintenance contracts with industrial areas like vampires.

Using such a thing to beat goblins is simply a waste. I'm afraid that even a thousand goblins would barely be enough to maintain a magic resistance tower shield, and ten thousand goblins would be enough to purchase a magic resistance tower shield.

This is the real burning of blood mushrooms!

Of course, these are not what Heimao needs to consider, he is just taking advantage of the rich now.

No matter what the cost is, this is a problem that the rat leaders should think about, not something that Heimao should consider.

Endless goblins rushed over with loud cries. These short and ugly creatures waved their ridiculous things in their hands, pretending to intimidate something. However, they were too weak.

Too weak! Weak guys are nothing!

A killing spree began. The storm rats, with pairs of scarlet eyes, hid behind tall tower shields, grinning wantonly and sharply. To them, killing goblins was just a game.

A game that is not difficult at all.

Sharp spears pierced out from behind the tower shields, piercing through the bodies, and then were pulled back. Scarlet blood gushed out, and the large shields in the hands of the storm rats were stained red, and their faces were also stained red.

The smell of blood made them more and more excited and fanatical, with shrill laughter, low whispers, sudden voices, and crazy shouts.

Wantonly causing killings, wanton mocking of enemies, mixed with devout praises to the great gods, all these contradictory things appeared on these guys at this moment.

"Weak trash, lowly slaves, long live the great God! Wisdomless fools, only death awaits you, death! Death! Death! Everything is for the great God!"

In the chaos, some faint scarlet aura gathered in the hands of these executioners.

Running like a storm is not the limit of these guys. Du Yuan's gift exists in every ratman's body. Killing will bring transformation, and the howling storm will also be stained with blood.

That scarlet blessing will force all powerful ratmen warriors to embark on the path of slaughter.

Those scarlet eyes that could not be erased in battle would one day become the nightmare of all intelligent life.

The Storm Rats and Black Fur, who gradually went berserk in the killing, launched a massacre. This so-called uprising was a turmoil that a goblin hero had been planning for his entire life, and this so-called goblin kingdom.

All of these things became a joke at this moment.

Being killed alive, killed to the point of collapse, killed to the point of falling apart in fear.

The battle lasted all day.

The grassland was littered with goblin corpses, and the scarlet grassland became even brighter with the watering of blood.

That old goblin sage, that goblin hero.

Standing blankly in the pile of corpses, looking at everything around him in a daze, he probably didn't understand why, why even with so many goblins, twenty times, thirty times, forty times the storm rats in Black Hair's hands, he still lost.

All is lost.

The ratman general holding the greatsword in one hand was covered in blood, the blood of goblins. The greatsword in his hand was full of holes, but he still stood there, pacing slowly on the chaotic battlefield, and the greatsword in his hand fell on any goblin who made the slightest sound.

This old goblin has a good prestige. Those goblin boys, who crawled up from the battlefield, actually wanted to take him away.

But this was not a wise move, as the gathered goblins attracted the attention of the black-haired mouse.

The scarlet eyes passed through the goblin boys and fell on Old Sheep Bone.

It didn't take much effort for the goblin boys around him to fall one by one at the hands of the dwarf ratman general, and the storm rats that had finished killing on the battlefield approached their leader.

One by one, bloody ratmen appeared in front of Lao Yanggu.

Unspeakable fear appeared in Lao Yanggu's heart. He seemed to have faced such a scene a long, long time ago.

On that harvest day in an unknown year.

All the goblins around him were captured, and those who dared to resist were killed on the spot. There were several corpses lying scattered on the grassland, and he was also lifted up by a ratman.

That day, he was compared repeatedly in front of a stick.

It was not until later that he gradually understood that the stick was a yardstick for the ratmen to judge whether the goblins were worthy of being harvested.

He was a little short, just a little bit short, and that little bit would have passed.

He was spared that day, but the deep fear and resentment towards the rat people were also planted.

He clenched his teeth tightly and raised the bone staff in his hand high. This shiny bone staff came from an old goat wandering on the grassland.

But before he could swing the stick in his hand, the big sword fell down, and the mottled big sword decisively cut off his head.

Blood gushed out and the head rolled to the ground.

What Heimao didn't know was that he had achieved a rare achievement, killing a hero.

Of course, it is possible that even after knowing this, he will still be dismissive. After all, he is just a goblin hero.

The battle was over, the riot caused by the goblins was finally quelled, and the harvest could be carried out normally.

In this battle, some storm rats were lost in Black Hair's hands, not a large number, about two thousand. Later on, they only needed to find those rat lords and make up for it in one go. This was not a very unprofitable deal.

After all, the surviving storm rats have become stronger.

As for the number of dead goblins, it is difficult to count. One million, two million, no one knows how many died. Heimao has no interest in this.

Just abandon these goblins here randomly.

They didn't even have the interest to hold a sacrifice, and they left in a hurry after everything was over.

Heimao had no intention of publicizing this victory at all. He didn't want to get the title of Goblin Slayer or Goblin Destroyer for nothing.

This is not an honor, it is a naked humiliation.

Soon after, the battlefield returned to silence. No one cared about the goblin corpses that covered the entire grassland, except for some goblins who turned back.

These noisy guys felt a little sad about the bodies of their companions, but this sadness did not last long.

Soon, their attention was drawn to the things left on the battlefield.

All kinds of messy things were their treasures. The noisy sounds echoed on the grassland again. On the pile of corpses, the goblins were snatching all kinds of rare things.

A group of noisy guys, whose lives are as tenacious as weeds and whose hearts are particularly big.

(End of this chapter)