Clash of Lords: Civilization Game Comes to Reality

Demons.

Demons with pointy ears.

They were the ones who invaded his home, commanded monsters, and destroyed his life with weapons.

His life should have been like an ordinary person, inheriting his parents' land and marrying a girl from the same village, living a stable and ordinary life.

The recruit took a deep breath and pulled out the talisman sword. The lines on the sword flickered as if they would go out at any time.

He couldn't beat him.

Every organ in his body told him to run.

He was just a farmer's child who had never fought with others and had no need to fight with others.

He was wearing exquisite armor that he had never seen before. The hollowing and hooking were comparable to the most noble knight he had ever seen. His handsome face was like a marble relief he had seen in a church.

"Come on, I'll let you go as long as you can hurt me."

The imperial soldiers surrounding the high elves dispersed, leaving them a large arena for them to dodge.

The imperial soldiers knew that this was the entertainment time of the elven noble who led them.

The recruit raised his sword, and his previous experience of chopping wood revived. He was not a god, nor was he a genius.

If there really was a god of war.

Block, counterattack,

If there was a goddess.

Rhythm, left, right, left...left, right, left...

If there were still gods.

Please bless you.

The recruit took a step forward, changed his grip from forward to reverse, and strode forward.

Trade injury for injury.

"It's a very creative attack, but your body limits your performance."

Human.

The high elf looked at the human in front of him who wanted to hurt him, but his entire arm was almost cut off by his ceremonial sword.

His weapon was not the broken weapon in his hand that had been worn out for who knows how many times.

The game was almost over.

"Did I hurt you?"

The recruit used the broken sword to prop himself up. He grinned and looked at the bloodshot on the high elf's face.

"Devil... Come on, I don't expect you to let me go."

The high elf smiled, and the ceremonial sword in his hand dropped, ready to put an end to this inferior human who dared to hurt him.

Some humans mastered magic and wanted to be on an equal footing with them, who were born with magic.

He was also forced to serve as the commander of this human brigade.

What an inferior group, I feel sick when I smell them.

If the empire did not need more help to rule the increasingly large territory, how could it absorb so many humans to join.

He could kill these humans who had not yet joined the empire, and no one would care about him.

"What a pity."

The recruit ignored the sarcasm in the words of the high elves, and he realized that something was wrong.

It was too quiet around him, and the original shouting, screaming, and noise disappeared.

He looked at the 'humans' standing on the roof, and two sharp corners appeared under the faint light above their heads. It was not the slender horn of a demon, but as soft as the stretched ear tips of cats and cats, and it trembled from time to time.

One of them turned his eyes to him and made a 'quiet' gesture to him.

Behind these 'humans', he saw stars, a blue star that was gradually enlarging and approaching them.

The recruit gave a bitter smile. It turned out that it was possible to see hallucinations before dying...

The high elf raised the ceremonial sword in his hand, and a white light condensed on the blade. The recruit knew that the opponent was serious this time.

Anyway, the recruit couldn't lift the sword, so if the opponent focused all his attention on him, he would ignore the old soldier who was hiding.

The expected death did not come. Blood dripped from midair onto his nose, onto his broken sword, and onto the ground.

Then there was the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground.

The high elf and his armor were grabbed by the steam machine soldier with his left hand. The flesh and armor were crushed under the hydraulic pressure. The steam machine soldier crushed him and threw him aside like garbage.

The high-risk target was cleared.

The recruit's eyes fell on the blood dripping on the ground. Obviously, the blood flowing in these elves was not blue.

No one noticed when the tall shadow approached their team.

Deadly crossbow arrows fell from the roof, piercing the lungs of the imperial soldiers before they could make a sound, completely silencing them.

The recruit looked at the steel creature that stopped in front of him. Its body was completely made of iron gray and brass, and its lance-like right arm flashed with lightning.

"Are you, the messenger of God?"

He knelt on the ground, inserted his sword into the soil, and coughed up a burst of blood on the ground.

The steam engine soldier stretched out his hand and gently pushed away the recruit in front of him, and the crystal observation pupil moved away from the recruit's body.

This was not its target.

The patrolling armored troll set his sights on the elves that were crushed and shapeless on the ground, howling and using his small brain to come to a conclusion.

The gun-shaped arc generator on the right arm was briefly steam-pressurized, and it penetrated the body of the attacking troll like a bullet, and the dazzling blue light poured into the monster's body along the tip of the spear.

The recruit saw that the invincible troll was killed in one blow.

There was still one, and the flashing observation module of the steam robot locked the target.

Three gunshots made the armored troll's hammer that was supposed to be swung at the steam robot deviate to the other side.

The recruit looked at the rooftop. Those ears were holding weapons that were the same as the invaders' but different. The invaders' weapons made no obvious sound when they were fired.

But there was no way to penetrate the arm of the armored troll and force it to change its attack direction.

With this stumble, it sent the unprotected part of its body to the steam mechanized soldier.

The troll's small brain was caught by the steam mechanized soldier, and it crushed the troll's head along with its helmet like it crushed the high elf.

The steam mechanized soldier looked around indifferently and raised his body so that the recruit could see the spinning gears and the pipes that were relieving pressure behind him - and the steam engine that was providing power for the entire machine.

"Ka... huh..."

Thick white smoke spewed out of its body along with the burning smell that the recruit couldn't explain.

It was a bit more choking than the cigarettes that the veteran usually smoked, but it did dilute the smell of blood nearby.

It was really bad.

Its sound was almost hidden by the burning houses around it, and the cheers and singing of the invaders.

But he... they at least survived for a day.

The recruit turned around and wanted to take a look at the firewood pile that the veteran had.

Soldiers holding iron-gray long-barreled rifles passed by the recruits quickly, and they formed teams to quickly follow the footsteps of the steam engine soldiers who were walking in front. The gray soldiers moved in a uniform and silent manner, and the recruits could not hear any sound except the sound of footsteps and the friction of cloth.

The gray soldier didn't even look at him, and an officer whose clothes were indistinguishable from the others threw him a roll of snow-white gauze and then returned to the marching team.

The only thing that interested him was the half-a-meter-high giant spiders that hissed at their feet, which occasionally stopped to look at him, the loser.

The recruit suddenly understood why the invaders were so afraid of the dark, and they were willing to risk casualties to attack.

This was probably their most wrong decision.

One hour, one hour was enough to do something.

It was enough for the fleet in the sky to land and release its own ship-borne troops in the shadows.

The night was the best cover, hiding the figure of the floating ship's movement.

When can the attack be launched?

It was when the enemy was exhausted from the offensive war and dragged into a night siege.

Or when the enemy relaxed all vigilance after the battle and began to harvest their own spoils after the war.

The aborigines did not do the first point, so they could only follow the second plan.

The fleet was in the sky, overlooking the earth from deep in the clouds, until night fell.