Our family is in decline

As the team moved forward, Vic soon discovered the weird team. He couldn't help it because it was really strange, especially the man pulling the car gave him a very weird feeling.

After all, Vic has seen the world under Walter. Even those nobles and bureaucrats may not have this kind of temperament. It still looks like a disease.

The pain failed to destroy him, and his pace was still so steady, as if nothing could affect him.

Fortunately, I didn't do anything rashly just now, otherwise I would have been in trouble...

Under Vic's control, the convoy passed slowly, but they were not the only ones on the road, but there were also many refugees.

Naturally, they wanted to follow the convoy, so there was an obvious conflict between the newly arrived refugees and those originally following behind, which was called queue-jumping.

After the refugees who had been following caught up, they did not dare to lose their temper at the convoy. Having nowhere to vent their emotions, they directed their emotions at the patients who looked abnormal, even if they were not the ones who jumped in the queue, but just happened to be nearby.

Just because Vic could see how extraordinary that man was, it didn't mean that others could too.

"Monster! Stay away from us!"

"Why don't you go die!"

"Unholy blasphemer, the Holy Light will send you to hell!"

"damn it……"

These insults had no impact. Those people still maintained their formation and walked as if they didn't hear them.

Or maybe they heard too many similar words along the way, even more vicious ones.

They have long been numb, and they even feel that they may have been abandoned by God. Otherwise, how could they be tortured by illness?

And this is just a trigger. Sometimes the more tolerant they are, the more they let them run wild. These refugees will probably have a hard time along the way.

They couldn't afford to offend the nobility, church, army, bandits and bandits. It could be said that they had suffered a lot along the way and had accumulated a lot of resentment against all kinds of people who were stronger than them.

Now it is easy to feel resentful when encountering someone who is weaker than yourself, not to mention that this is still on the land of Hamlet.

"Snapped!"

A stone thrown by an unknown person hit the man pulling the cart. At this time, the patients who had been unresponsive and had been tortured to the point of being deformed saw the man pulling the cart being attacked. The eyes exposed under the cloth showed strong anger.

On the other hand, the guy who threw the stones was still laughing. I don't know why such behavior made him feel proud.

"Hahaha!"

The madness of the refugees began to spread, from words to actions.

Seeing that something was about to happen, a loud shout rang out at this moment.

"Stop! What are you doing?"

Who else can stand up at this time?

Vic came directly on horseback, and the oppression brought about by his status as leader made the refugees feel afraid.

Looking over, the refugee who was crazy just now turned into a quail. The guy who threw the stones also had an awkward look on his face, and immediately calmed down the boiling situation.

He knew that something might happen. These refugees were following the convoy just to take advantage of the situation, otherwise they would not be able to deal with those bandits.

Vic didn't care much about them, since Hamlet needed someone to take him back along the way.

But he didn't allow these guys to cause trouble, let alone watch the chaos break out, because this was Hamlet under the lord's rule.

Stability and order are the most important rules here.

Vic glanced at those guys and then turned to the man pulling the cart. When he got closer and saw the broken sword, he couldn't help but be surprised.

This person is definitely not ordinary. That kind of weapon can only be used by a strong person like a lord, and this person...

"Go get some food." Vic raised his hand to say hello, and soon someone brought a small bag.

Vic got off his horse and approached with the bag in hand. His words suddenly became filled with indignation.

"I just can't stand them bullying others. Who doesn't get sick? Who doesn't encounter difficulties? Everyone is on this road to survive. If they don't take care of each other, they still do this kind of thing..."

A strong person deserves respect no matter what time he is. He doesn't want to provoke any enemies for Hamlet, so he shows his kindness first.

Whether the other party can tolerate this is another matter.

"Don't come over." Vic had just taken a few steps when he saw the man raising his hand, and a thick but hoarse voice came out, "The disaster will be passed on to you."

"Okay, I won't interrupt." In response to his words, Vic did not continue to approach, but threw the bag over.

Initially, Vic thought nothing would go wrong, but he never expected that the man failed to catch it, and the bag fell directly from his outstretched arm to the ground.

Is this supposed to be the reaction of a strong man?

And seeing the man bending down to pick up the bag, his body so stiff, Vic couldn't help but wonder, could he really have seen it wrong?

"Thank you~May God bless you."

The hoarse voice interrupted his thoughts, and Vic just smiled and nodded.

It doesn't matter anyway. We'll be in town soon anyway, so there will naturally be someone responsible for these things.

Thinking of this, Vic couldn't help but feel a lot more relaxed. He was really tired from running around outside. Hamlet was the only home.

You can have a good rest when you go back...

At this moment, the alarm bell rang, and a man could be seen riding back, still shouting.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

It was the escort that had dispersed... but there seemed to be something following him?

Soon some ordinary people who looked like refugees appeared on the old road carrying all kinds of broken weapons, and there were some special enemies among them.

They were bare-chested, wearing strange black iron helmets, and held iron claws in their hands.

Isn’t this a fucking cultist?

Still an elite one!

When Vic reacted, he didn't care so much. He quickly walked over, got on his horse and rushed forward, shouting, "Quick! Form a formation and prepare to meet the enemy."

The others looked around in confusion, but after the order was given, they still acted as they were trained.

Sure enough, soon Vic suddenly noticed that the cultists running over the old road were stained with blood, indicating that they had started killing.

Damn it! So what happened? Why are there cultists here?

Vic is not an ordinary person. The fact that he took over the task from the lord shows that he knows more about the situation. When the cultists show up here in a big way, it means that something is very likely to happen to Hamlet.

But now he needs to take care of himself first...

The action launched by the Ascension Sect is unprecedented. They want to ignite the flames of war throughout Hamlet. As the only main road in and out of Hamlet, it will naturally be taken care of.

A crazy massacre unfolds. Anyone who appears on this road will be attacked by them, and they will sacrifice their death to the gods.

And it was obvious that these cultists who rushed over had already started killing, and it was unknown which unlucky ghosts bumped into them and turned into stains of blood.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Vic kept urging the convoy to form a formation, and had no intention of fighting with them.

There is no other way. If all the escorts were from Hamlet's army, he would dare to fight these cultists.

But except for a few backbones, most of the people around him are ordinary guards. They are a bit reluctant to deal with those bandits. If they don't have a formation to support the cultists, they may collapse soon.

The effectiveness of the reconnaissance showed and bought them some time. Under Vic's urging, the convoy was quickly connected end to end to form several vehicle formations. The crossbowmen stood on top, and the spearmen relied on the vehicles to extend their weapons. Support each other.

This formation can withstand most attacks, and even heavily armed horse bandits will find it difficult to overwhelm them.

"Damn it!" Vic's side was attacked by the cultists immediately. However, there were no casualties due to the obstruction of the carriage, but it also left them too busy to take care of themselves.

"Archers, prepare to shoot!"

The crossbowmen among the guards raised their crossbows and fired at the cultists.

The crossbow arrows pierced the cultists, but the injuries were not enough to kill them. Only some of them were accurately aimed and shot directly into the head to kill them.

This batch of crossbows was originally supposed to be equipment for the city defense army of Owendo City. The war caused the price of these weapons and ammunition to rise sharply. Many people were covetous of them, so Walter found a way to spend money to get a batch of them.

After all, it is normal wear and tear~ Even if it is brand new from the factory, it can be labeled as defective and classified as discarded. Those that should have been scrapped will continue to be used by the city defense troops. Anyway, as long as the emblem is rubbed off, no one will care.

Similarly, when those spearmen encountered cultists who wanted to crawl over, they struck hard and pushed them away with their spears.

However, this tactic is more than enough to protect oneself, and it is even difficult to kill those cultists. After all, most of the guards are just ordinary people who have been trained for more than half a month.

Only some Hamlet veterans who have experienced fighting cultists know how to kill them.

The people in the convoy were escorted and protected by a formation of vehicles, but what about the refugees?

They immediately fell into panic after hearing the enemy attack. They wanted to seek protection by joining the convoy but were directly rejected.

On one side were the crazy cultists, on the other side were the guards' weapons. They didn't know what to do for a moment.

If someone knew the habits of these cultists and fled here immediately, they might be able to avoid this wave, because these cultists only care about the enemies in front of them, and they will never stop fighting.

With a cumbersome target like a convoy, it's easy to hold back the cultists.

But they were accustomed to relying on the strong. Even if Vic did not accept them, these refugees did not make the decision to simply escape. They felt that following them would be an opportunity.

Then naturally they ruined their last chance.

Because many cultists suddenly appeared in the woods nearby, it was obvious that "the former wolf was pretending to be sleeping to lure the enemy", and some of the cultists came directly to the path to outflank them.

"Blood sacrifice to my lord! Flesh sacrifice for the crown!"

"The stars have returned, and flesh and blood have ascended!"

"Kill, kill, kill!"

The merciless killing began directly. These elite cultists raised their hands and pierced the heart of a refugee with a claw, and tore the refugee's body apart with a wave of their iron claws.

The cultists who had failed in Hamlet showed horrific lethality on these unarmed refugees.

"No! We're done!"

"Please let me go!"

"Don't kill me, I'm willing to do anything..."

Begging for mercy, shouting, screaming... the death and despair brought by the cultists instantly enveloped the heads of the refugees.

But the existence of some people has never been able to knock down the man. The man's big hand finally put down the car and grasped the hilt of the sword.

That sudden clarity and clarity in the center of the storm...

A refugee was squeezed and fell while fleeing. When he turned around subconsciously, what he saw was the ferocious face of the cultist, and the blood-stained kitchen knife slashing at him.

"No!"

The man was already frightened. He was so "powerful" when he cursed the loudest just now and uttered all kinds of vicious words.

The moment he threw the stone, he was a brave man, he was a leader, enjoying the "awe" eyes of those people.

But at this time, he didn't even have the courage to stand up and run away. He just subconsciously closed his eyes and trembled, waiting for death to come.

The "clang" sound was the sound of metal colliding.

When he opened his eyes, what he saw was a wide broken sword standing in front of him. He could even see mottled marks on the sword body, and the person holding the sword was actually...

Before he could think more, the man moved, and the broken sword was slashed out like a dragon entering the sea. The next second, the cultist was killed, and a few drops of blood splashed on the brass mask.

It was he who saved me...

"Let them go! You guys are coming at me!"

The man did not stop, but shouted at the cultists, and strode into the cultists. His slightly stiff movements seemed so firm.

"It's raining in the forest!"

With a violent slash, the body of another cultist who was facing him was directly cut off, and blood spattered like falling rain.

“Summer before autumn!”

The broken sword in his hand deflected the claws of another cultist, and he slashed at him with his backhand. The cultist who was still aggressive just now was killed with one sword.

"Blood and mud!"

Stepping forward, holding the sword with both hands and swinging it out, the cultist who was still killing the refugees was directly chopped from the shoulder to the chest. The internal organs fell under the pull of gravity, and the heart in the soil was even still beating.

"Petals are falling!"

As if on a premonition, he turned around and swung his sword, decapitating a cultist who wanted to attack from behind. His head shot up into the sky but fell to the ground in an instant.

The rain falls in the forest and turns into mud, and the midsummer before autumn ushered in the decline. The flesh and blood of the enemy fell on the soil, while the petals fell to represent withering.

Each of his words foreshadows the death of the enemy, but with a poetic mood.

But what's even more terrifying is that the figure holding a broken sword rushed into the cultists like a tiger entering a pack of wolves. None of these crazy cultists was an enemy, and they were all killed with a single sword.

It's just that the body that has been tortured by illness for a long time can hardly withstand such a fierce battle. After killing a few, he was breathing heavily.

He also seemed a little powerless when facing those cultists, and even slashed the air with his sword, allowing the cultists to seize the opportunity and draw their iron claws in front of them, leaving marks on the breastplate.

However, the man with the breastplate was not injured. He slashed with the sword with his backhand, but it only injured the cultist and failed to kill him. The physical strength of these elites was not like those of those trash fish.

At the same time, his shouting and killing just now attracted the attention of more cultists, and they immediately swarmed this way.

Facing those cultists, the man suddenly held the sword in both hands and raised it in front of him. A mysterious power emerged from his body. The weakness in his body was instantly eliminated, and instead, a stronger pressure burst out.

revenge!