Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 143 The Knights

Death is not scary, One Eye just thinks that he can no longer contribute to the great waaagh, when he came to Bretonnia because of pain, he never thought that he would die because of a woman.

When his consciousness was broken, he had a strange dream. Greenskin didn't like dreaming, or he didn't like...

But he is still obsessed with it. Here, there are no annoying skeletons, only endless wars. Between the stars and the stars, shrimps, long ears, and old friends are all here, and they fight from day to night.

The boys can build something as huge as the whole old world, setting off a waaagh that scares all life.

He was so happy, he was so happy.

When the dream was over, in a moment of ignorance, the gigantic Gege smiled and stretched out that incomparably huge hand to him.

"Follow me, the waaagh begins!"

One-eyed has become the days when he was a kid, ignorant, happy, and constantly strong enemies...

On the plain, the last breeze blew and took away his soul. No one knew where the greenskins would go. Only Alimara sat on the ground weakly, watching the greenskins fleeing in the distance.

"It's over, father..." Her eyes kept dripping, her voice choked up, and Wumeng was coiled beside her, it was the life that understood her best.

Elena ignited the flames, causing the one-eyed huge body to burn away with the flames, sending out waves of disgusting smells.

The farmer numbly repaired the fence and the wall until the haze of the green skin completely dissipated, and there was only a hill about [-] meters away. Roel naturally noticed the situation here, but he had no time to distract himself, but to be honest, he underestimated it a bit situation.

He originally thought that the girl would delay the most, but he didn't expect to kill her directly, and even completely destroyed the green skin...

Does he have a kind of arrogance towards the people of this world? It can be said that there is. He may think that the legendary lord is not bad for a time traveler, but ordinary people?

Now Ali Mara has successfully proved this, even ordinary people can achieve things after receiving enough education.

When the hustle and bustle of the green skins completely passed, Roel pulled the trigger more correctly and quickly.

The gunpowder continued to end the existence of those dead, killing the never-ending wind of death on the battlefield. At this moment, the number of corpses had dropped too much, only less than half of the original.

The Black Knights were also almost disintegrated. Although the troops were exhausted, the losses they caused were huge, huge.

Worth it, as soon as this damned war of attrition goes on until they crumble, or the knight takes that damned Warpstone, then things will all go down to the Bretonnians, down to Brionne's soldiers.

The knights surrounded the edge of the plain, using mobility to kill the lone troops, attacking the black knights, or smashing the wights. To be honest, they killed as many as Roel's gunpowder.

And in Bretonnia, their area of ​​use is indeed more open. If it weren't for this beautiful highland, he wouldn't be able to export enemies so comfortably.

When the cannonballs exploded one after another on the ground, the strong wind tore apart the enemy's body, and there were not many undead left.

Lord Nork shouted to his colleagues.

"Quick, keep going, let's go home before Chunfeng!"

"There are not many enemies, go get the dimensional stone now!"

"For the lady!"

"For Bretonnia!"

"For Brionne!"

Dozens of handsome horses in ornate mail armor slashed across the horizon until they were out of range of the firearms, backed only by mortars.

But the number of the dead troops is no longer enough to support them. Roel easily put down the gun, because the moment the dead touched the knight, they would be disintegrated.

He picked up the brandy and enjoyed the rest of the day, no doubt about it being a big win.

After the green-skinned orcs were dealt with and the undead army was severely damaged, all they needed to do was to fire the mortars into the opposite city, knock on the gate, and destroy everything.

He became famous, returned to Bordeaux, used the dead necromancer to gain status, honor, and respect for himself, bought another manor, and cultivated his own mercenary group.

When the end comes, the empire is struggling to hold on. At this moment, high-end troops full of firearms arrive on handsome horses. The Holy Grail knights fight side by side with muskets. Longbows and bombs cut through the sky. When Sigma comes, I want to pat him on the shoulder. ,call out.

At this moment, Roel couldn't help shouting. "Heroes of Bretonnia come! Imperials!"

Farmers, gunners, adventurers and gunners all looked sideways, and Roel's old face was slightly red. "Hey, I mean everyone has sausages to eat at night, and Bretonnia's sausages are here, let the Imperials see them!"

The others lost their judgment when they heard the roast sausage, nodded with smiles on their cheeks, and whispered to each other about whether to pair it with brandy or wine, as if the fatigue of dealing with corpses, shelling and shooting today was nothing.

Roel breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, you are a good guy."

Then he lay on the ammunition box with nothing to do, resting his head on the gunpowder, smelling the safe smell that he was used to, and closed his eyes.

It was a smell similar to bird's *, because the production of saltpetre in this era was still a hut craft, Roel didn't hate it, and even liked it.

If you want to describe it carefully, it's like... the smell of rotting corpses, corpses?
He suddenly frowned, because the smell of the wind of death suddenly became stronger, and he could feel it even with gunpowder.

He opened his eyes and looked at the battlefield. Even if the necromancer bombarded with spells, it would be fine, because the mobility was there, but he still had a bad feeling.

In front of the endless plain, the chaotic dimensional stone is releasing power for no reason, the roots of trees and creatures are distorted, and a few disgusting rodent freaks are born, but it doesn't matter, it's a normal phenomenon, and it won't happen until it is sealed in the waystone by the elves. There will be problems.

A few groups of fleeing green skins are harmless, they move slowly, and they are all farts, even farmers will not be attacked by them.

Where did this strange smell come from?

A feeling of uneasiness lingered in his heart. In the silver castle in the distance, the huge suspension bridge was broken by green skins and was still being maintained. Several black and huge things walked out of the bridge.

Four, although there are not many, but one is four or five meters long. The fangs and long black hair make people intimidated. Roel is very familiar with the razor-like claws and the sense of oppression. He has faced the miniature version.

These are 4 bat wolves, weird creatures born of a rhythmless thirst for blood. Although they have average intelligence, their power far exceeds that of vampires who can wrestle with trolls.

The place on Roel's back that was torn by Eustabe began to ache...

"Horn! Give me the horn!"

He immediately yelled, and the adventurer next to him immediately brought his horn, and the four high-pitched and bright long beeps also represented an emergency situation in this mission, be alert!

(End of this chapter)