Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 106 Sludge
"Who are you and why are you helping vampires?" Roel stood up slowly with sweat dripping from his brow, making sure he could pop his head off.

"Are you human?" He was terribly confused, but this guy's unknown also brought fear.

The man in black just looked at him, and was about to ride the dead skeleton horse. The clothes were definitely magical, like a dark flame filled with darkness, making it hard to figure out his background.

Roel cursed. "Get off the horse, you disgusting demon, or you'll be fed lead!"

The man didn't care at all, just stepped into the stirrup, Roel didn't hesitate, the projectile was fired suddenly, the hot lead was gifted with a silver light under the effect of the amulet, but it was fleeting because of the shot.

After the thunder, the shot of the bullet hit the head of the man in black, and there was a sudden scream, which was so miserable that it was painful, and the eardrum seemed to be ruptured.

His body fell straight to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust in the dry soil, lying straight, motionless like a living thing, and the skeleton horse also fell down suddenly.

Roel approached, but he was not an idiot. The gunpowder had been filled on the road, and he came again for the dead horse, only to see that the skeleton horse suddenly twitched, like something in a puppet show, and fell apart completely.

But he still kept his distance, loaded the projectile, and shot a few more shots at the man in black, bang bang bang, every time the gunpowder was embedded in the heart, head, abdomen, and spine.

But there was no puffing sound of the flesh and blood, and there was no struggle, and the black robe lost its previous allure, lying on the ground like a pile of rags.

do you died?When this thought flashed through his mind, Roel couldn't help being amused by himself, it was already dead!
Roel lifted the rag with a bayonet, and saw that the yellow-brown bones had been pulverized by hot lead, and the fire of the soul was no longer beating. It was a wight, but its "taste" was different from that of the Night Guard, but this thing It should not have high intelligence to act independently away from the caster.

Roel has become very familiar, unconsciously, he can already feel the difference of the wind of death on the corpse, just like Sir Nock can feel the green skin.

He breathed a sigh of relief first, because the person who mastered the eight winds must have emotional problems, and Noke didn't seem extreme, nor did he have the elegant temperament of the corpse operator just now.

Of course, if everything is fake, it will have to be calculated separately, but now the problem is coming again, the enemy is in the dark, and Roel's attack is obviously a warning.

In the future, their actions will be more subtle, making it difficult for people to detect...

"Tal, give me some clues..." Roelmo chanted the god of the hermit, squatting down and flipping through the dead body. In theory, it is difficult for the eight winds to gather for too long, unless the caster absorbs the magic into the body, Roel doesn't have to worry about being attacked by the other side, but he must also be careful about the poison on the body of the deceased.

Picking a few times with a bayonet, turning the bones over a few times, poking at the corpse like a urchin playing with excrement doesn't feel good.

Roel found nothing except a small strange black mud that fell from the corpse's clothes, such as family crests, letters or whatever.

It is said that if there is investigation, there will be gains?Roel angrily kicked the disgusting body with his feet, causing the bones to scatter all over the ground, then took out the torch and burned the unlucky rag.

He didn't even dare to smell the burning black smoke, and walked away quickly, holding his nose, because the orc patrol had already started, if he didn't want to be one of the adventurers who died in the forest, he had better leave quickly.

In the end, Roel still hadn't figured out who the traitor was. Although Jazz's suspicion had been lowered, the haze was still surrounding him, and the attack on the orcs couldn't be delayed.

Bretonnia has no means of effective communication, and the caravan is coming with mortars without knowing anything. Although only the baron knows the specific route, it is too dangerous not to clean up the orcs.

The Oman forest is huge, and they don't have the strength to surround the entire forest, so they can only exchange their lives for the temporary stability of the orcs.

Roel was in a complicated mood. This feeling made him feel as if he had returned to the powerless days when he was still at the lighthouse, but this time he went from ignorant to watching himself jump into the trap.

His head began to ache, and he could only encourage himself not to think too much, and to do his job well.

When he walked alone to the agreed old pagoda tree, a team of 13 people and 14 people including Ali Mara were waiting. Even after the sunset, they were still waiting for Roel.

When Roel saw them, the depression in his heart was swept away first, because he was no longer alone, and he immediately adjusted his state and cursed.

"It's getting dark, I said it's too late to go back to the castle, right?!"

"If I don't come back, then I should preserve my vitality!" Although his mouth was cursing, but his actions were not at all responsible, Roel hugged the worried-looking Alimara.

"I'm back, but you have to practice reloading tonight, I'm afraid you have regressed during this time!"

Alimara smiled lightly. "Yes, master."

(End of this chapter)