Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 111 Occupation
Why help them, why pity them?When the knight stared at Roel with a terrified expression, he came back to his senses. For some reason, he was also irritated by those orcs.

And this thing is not bad, now, those high-ranking people are extremely afraid of Roel's firearms, as if they were fired silently on the battlefield?
Goosebumps had already crawled onto the skin of those lords, they had never seen such a weapon, this was surprising to Sir Nock and even Alimara herself.

Roel has become the focus, and when the baron wanted to ask him why he did this, Roel immediately shouted. "Wolf."

Alimara immediately realized that her master wanted to change the subject, so just change it!
She is not in the mood to care about so many things. As a farmer, she has been ignorant for a long time, but she is very clear about what she is doing at the moment. She pulls Sir, Sir pulls the pockmarked boy, takes Roel, and the four of them pick up dead branches and rotten leaves. Sweeping away with a weapon saved the lives of those wild wolves.

When Roel still didn't forget to be vigilant to those wolves, they seemed very humane, they just walked around the lair, neither whimpering nor attacking.

Roel may have been a little overwhelmed, but...he saw the feeling of gratitude. Maybe sometimes humans don't have the "humanity" of animals, but how to define such a beautiful word seems vague.

Could it be that "wolf nature" is good?
They left the wolves so far. This was not a good encounter. Roel didn't think the wolves would remember, and he even knew that he was helping them. In fact, after clearing the flames, he was even ready to skin the wolves.

But humans are sometimes no better than animals.

The iron hoofs of the knights were walking slowly on the mud, the light of the evil moon and the torches shone through the fortresses broken by Roel and the hunters, a secretary remembered the dead goblins, and calculated the rewards for the adventurers.

It would be a Bretonnian victory, with knights' hooves and peasants' help, not mercenaries.

The wind rustled in the night, and the stench of the green skins blew to the nose with the wind. The knight held his nose uncomfortably, they commented.

"This smell is worse than the battlefield."

Roel didn't deny it, but he had seen even more disgusting battlefields and had fought in person.

At the end of the path, a hundred or so orcs were having fun, ripping open Squig's body, swallowing, and pushing away the goblins next to them, ignoring their desire to cook.

But Roel already felt something was wrong, where is the boss, did he go to plunder at night?

However, the monk could not run away from the temple, the knights looked at the mob and carelessly approached on horseback, followed closely by the attendants.

There are 3 chivalrous knights, 2 kingdom knights, and 400 peasants, and dozens of attendants with swords. Although they are not well prepared and equipped, the chivalrous knights are young and only have mail armor.

But iron hoofs and lances can break through the orc defenses, even if the camp is not suitable for charging.

Peasants got together and formed squares, defending everything with pitchforks, and squires surrounded the knights so that the greenskins couldn't hit the bodies of the horses, even though the horses' mail mail was better than their armor.

But the orcs were not afraid. When everything was in a mess, for them, the knights' attack was just fun. The iron orcs were using their iron armor to defend against the farmers' pitchforks and the knights' long blades.

The situation was so easy that the adventurers just watched shooting from a distance, and the naughty Shaman in front of the statue was not the real caster, just a big stupid greenskin.

Soon, the first drop of blood fell on the ground. It was not the wounds of knights and peasants, but the neck of a green skin was cut by an adventurer's longbow.

The atmosphere reached its climax, like a dance party, green skin, blue battle flag, red liquid, white brain... all mixed together.

The greenskin shouted, the knight roared, Roel licked the corner of his mouth, and took away a poor orc with a bayonet. He was expecting this war of hundreds of people to bring him an upgrade.

He is also deliberately observing the Baron's situation. There is no doubt that Sir Nock, Ryan, and Almara don't need to hide their resentment towards the green skins. The blades and guns all greeted them.

The baron seemed a little...unexpectedly calm, just watching the battlefield, telling his attendants to be alert to the enemies nearby.

The suspicion is too great, what is he doing?
The existence of the spy made Roel very vigilant. Compared with the chaos, his eyes were on every human being here. During this time, he was more defensive than the enemy.

is it him?Roel looked at the baron with constant doubts in his heart. The baron also noticed Roel's vision, and he was not afraid.

Instead, he reported his usual elegance and polished the blade. "Roel, you're wondering why I didn't draw my sword, aren't you?"

Roel also frankly agreed. "Yes, my lord, I think every knight regards killing an enemy as an honor."

The Baron rubbed his moustache. "I have a lot to think about, and here I am with the greatest responsibility."

He pointed to the large buildings in the orc camp, which were dilapidated and wood, iron and graffiti-drawn rooms.

"You should be more vigilant there. I remember that kind of building might be a greenskin animal house."

Roel was also puzzled, until he saw a huge arm stretched out from the building, it bent over, lowered its head, like a dog out of the kennel, it has a little green skin, and its face is not very good Smart looking, and holding a whole tree, but it's not a dog, it's absolute humanoid food, disgustingly bubbly and rotting, and tasteless.

Disgusting, insulting, with a human leg dangling from its mouth.

Roel immediately yelled. "Spread out, there are trolls!"

(End of this chapter)