Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 46 Revenge Prologue
When the raindrops gradually became bigger, Roel with a hood sneaked into the horizon, like God drew a curtain for him, and gradually opened the first act of revenge.

Even though the rain will make the black powder difficult to use, Tal has blessed him rather than being discovered.

The dark raindrops fell on the ground, hindering the breath, temperature, and taste. The crawling body swayed in the dark night, like a poisonous snake waiting for an opportunity.

Roel quickly figured out the situation here. The center of the camp was a small corpse pit, where human corpses soaked and rotted, swelled, and twisted. Ghouls worked like slaves without fatigue.

On the west coast is a simple lighthouse of the dead, relying on the light of burning corpse oil to simulate the situation of a normal lighthouse.

The corpse pit is narrow, far less than the huge army of thousands of people in the game. The concentration of the wind of death is not high. A few black corpse monsters are stationed beside them, letting the wind and rain sprinkle on their skeleton cheeks.

Countless dead people continue to salvage the disgusting liquid from the corpse pit and send it to the lighthouse.

The damned necromancer was nowhere to be found. The camp was not small. Roel couldn't determine his exact location, but the light of the lighthouse seemed to need corpse oil to maintain it. He only needed to destroy the corpse pit that produced fuel to kill the necromancer The mage's plans were all ruined.

If you can run, monks can't run to temples, and your buildings can't grow legs!
Roel quickly moved forward relying on the bushes and forests, but the bushes near the corpse pit had been cut down and cleared away. He needed a bunker, just like the boxes in Metal Gear Solid.

He walked around the camp, and found two zombies standing beside the wooden box on the outside, seemingly sluggish because they had no instructions.

The current Roel's combat power is not what it used to be. The malnutrition has been cured, and he has been fighting for a long time. The ten points of attack power provided by the system against the undead plus the bayonet of the gun in his hand are still quite terrifying weapons.

What's more, across the box, the skill of not being good at fighting was triggered again, and the bayonet was slashed across. Even if Roel didn't have very good skills, the blade would cut through the two corpses like hot knife butter.

Puchi, puji, two sounds of falling bodies, and the puzzled expression of the zombie before it completely dissipated consciousness. In comparison, the hard body of the bat wolf is not a thing of the same dimension.

Roel opened the box, and prayed silently, it wasn't a corpse box!

Bless Tal, it was a lot of building materials, wood, nails, etc., but he emptied it, drilled in, and smelled the strong disgusting corpse smell inside.

Roel, who was fighting zombies all day long, couldn't help but want to vomit. If he had teammates, he might have already vomited completely.

"Md, this box has been packed..." Roel's face was grim, but he had no choice but to keep insulting the stingy necromancer in his heart, and the box did this and that.

Roel slowly pushed the box forward. In the weather that gradually turned into a torrential rain, such a box effectively protected his gunpowder and covered his figure.

The only problem, probably, was that he didn't know what was going on outside, so he could only try to push forward.

Fortunately, the eyesight of the zombies and skeletons was mediocre. Relying on the distant light shining through the gaps in the boxes, Roel unexpectedly came to the vicinity of the corpse pit abruptly.

The rotten and disgusting smell made him want to die, as if he was sticking his face on the rotten meat, the rotten blood and flesh turned into thick bubbles, and there were ghouls stirring in it, using his old feet Add a layer of flavor to the corpse pit.

This tm is the undead who believes in Nurgle?Roel couldn't help but smile wryly, didn't he just throw the bomb in...

But maybe the characteristics of the undead and the unchanging blessing of Nurgle are very compatible?

Roel lit the bomb in the box and heard it sizzle, but the matchlock suddenly went out because of the wet rain.

"Fuck" Roel immediately wiped the matchlock of the bomb with his clothes. Although the clothes were also wet, he could only hope that it would be dyed.

The problem was that the flint was crackling, and the sound could be heard even when it was raining. Soon a black wight next to it realized something was wrong. It raised its head and slowly walked towards Roel's box.

It didn't find the problem with its meager intelligence, but searched sluggishly because of the sound. When Roel heard the footsteps, he immediately stopped his lighting behavior.

Then I suddenly thought of a question, does the scale fire have temperature?

The wight was stationed next to the box at the moment, Roel suddenly stretched out his hand, tripped the poor undead, and then pressed the wight with his butt.

Before the wight could react, the pitch-black armor creaked, and it was about to use the energy of the flames of the soul to drive the wind of death to make an ethereal siren, but Roel stuffed a big bomb in its mouth...

"Brother, borrow a fire."

Soon, the fire rope was dried by the flame of the soul, but that thing was actually made of the wind of death, but now is not the time to care about this.

"Brother, borrow your head!"

A sage once said, give me a lever, and I can move a planet.

A farmer practiced today, give me a rifle and I can decap a wight.

The Rick collar Seiko rifle and the night guard wight had this exciting close contact this evening. With the bomb hanging on the skeleton, the head was pried off by the rifle.

The bayonet was inserted into the joint between the neck and the spine, and with a foot step and a strong hand, there was only a toothache clicking sound, and the white skull rolled down the corpse pit.

A moment later, the rich corpse juice was stimulated by the bomb and soared into the sky. Roel immediately got into the box and ran away.

The monstrous waves of thick juice forcibly submerged the ghoul who was stirring the corpse, and alarmed the other guardian ghouls. The smell and the sound of the explosion dispersed, and they were unwilling to disperse for a long time...

At this moment, Roel had already escaped from birth. In a hut on the fake port made by the dead, the fair-skinned boy opened his eyes.

He was wearing a beautiful purple patterned robe, with an elegant and upright appearance, with the logo of the noble family on his chest, and a particularly handsome black corpse demon was serving him next to him. When he heard the explosion, he opened the window of the room with his white fingers and looked out. .

"Ouch... Nagash! What does this smell like?!"

Covering his mouth, he almost spit it out.

(End of this chapter)