Ride and Cut

　　 It's hard to hide any secrets in the chaotic array of hundreds of people. Richard immediately saw an elderly kobold who was crouching and hiding among the robbers.

　　 I don’t know if it is too stupid to say that he has a good system.

　　 When the robbers were in a mess, the werewolf guards around him were still performing their duties loyally. At a glance, there was a clear line between the past and the ordinary robbers, and they were very eye-catching.

　　 The old kobold man’s face is covered with brightly colored miscellaneous paint, a few pikas and other small beast skulls are strung around his neck, and he holds a crooked brown wooden staff in his hand.

　　 Almost every feature on his body can make people immediately associate him with the concept of "wilderness shaman".

　　 He has pinto in one hand, and in the other hand, he continuously spreads colorful spices, while dancing and chanting words. When Richard saw him, the great dance was just near the end.

　　 The falling spice powder began to burn violently in mid-air and turned into fly ash. At the same time, the dazzling sparks seemed to come home from a swallow, and gradually gathered over the palm of the hand.

　　Under certain power constraints, the invisible fire has a definite outline, forming a round fireball. The pale blue tongue of fire continued to evaporate and wind around, but it always remained around the fireball.

　　 "Magic..." Richard looked at the ball that was constantly releasing light and heat, and his brows wrinkled slowly.

　　 The old kobold showed a surreptitious smile, and with a light wave of his chicken-foot-like palm, the fireball instantly transformed from static to dynamic, drawing a straight trajectory in mid-air to the knight on the back of the beast.

　　 Richard didn't even think about it. He volleyed on a fireball like a baseball with a lance.

　　 There was a loud bang, and it was like shattering a container full of magma, and the golden-red hot slurry burst suddenly into the sky.

　　 The lance in Richard's hand was immediately exploded into pieces of debris, and even the bead leaf was ironed red when splashed on his body. The thick-skinned iron-eating armadillo wailed painfully for the first time, and the extremely high-temperature flame pierced the scales, burning the tender flesh inside.

　　 The barbarians are very lucky, their position slightly lags behind Richard, almost completely unaffected.

　　 The most miserable thing is the wasteland robbers directly below the explosion. How can they hide after a rain of fire falls from their heads?

　　 Dirty and greasy hair began to burn, large pieces of flesh peeled off the skeleton, the scream of despair, like the cry of an abyss evil ghost, accompanied by the pungent fat burning smell, spread out together.

　　 This change is obviously far beyond the old kobold's expectation. He stared at the ground in a dumbfounded manner, and squeezed the few hairs left on his head. I couldn't understand why the most proud magic turned into a joke in front of the other party.

　　 He pushed away the robber who was supporting him, angrily throwing the wooden stick to the ground, and took out a thin black leather from his arms and tore it open.

　　 Even with Richard's dull magical perception, he noticed a clear elemental fluctuation, and a red band of light like a scarf floated on the broken leather.

　　 The morale of the robbers had been extremely low after eating a fireball, but after being enveloped by this red light, their muscles began to swell, their fangs protruding from the corners of their mouths, and the whites of their eyes slowly mixed with scarlet bloodshot eyes.

　　 "Bloodthirsty Thaumaturgy!" Richard was taken aback.

　　 The awakening of a shaman who can use elemental power in aboriginal tribes is an absolute small probability event.

　　 Due to the lack of inheritance system, they rely on talent to eat, and their witchcraft is often far inferior to the magic of mankind. If you insist on saying that shaman is better than mage, it must be the "bloodthirsty thaumatism" blessed by this group.

　　 This kind of magic effect is not very high, but it is quite affordable. Blessing on one's own fighters can stimulate the physical potential and awaken the animal nature hidden in the deepest part of consciousness. If intelligent life is to cover humanity on the basis of animality, then the role of this kind of magic is undoubtedly to strip away this layer of humanity.

　　 The most harmless bunny head blessed with bloodthirsty thaumaturgy, will also use his fangs to bite the intestines of the wild wolf, but after the duration is over, he may lose his strength and die.

　　 Because the effect is too **** and evil, this kind of spell has a bad reputation in human society, but the natives of the wilderness can ignore these, as long as the effect is good enough.

　　 The robbers clenched their weapons and slowly approached, the remaining light of reason gleaming and struggling in their eyes.

　　 Bloodthirsty Thaumaturgy infused them with illusory courage. The bloodthirsty beasts in their hearts were grinding their teeth and sucking blood, but this courage was not enough to counter the fear caused by Richard.

　　 Those comrades with entrails spurting out and strangely dead are reminding them with their lives what a terrible butcher this knight is.

　　 Those barbarian warriors who followed him are also the hardest stubbles. They are skilled in the use of spears and their strength is amazing. They are all the elites among the elites and the trump cards among the trump cards.

　　 The robbers even felt very aggrieved. Originally, only the inexperienced vagrant among the nobles would come to this place where birds do not **** to open up~www.readwn.com~ You are so capable, why don't you go to a more prosperous place!

　　 is sitting on the back of a behemoth with three blades high at the shoulders. If he wants to attack an enemy on the ground, he must use a long-handled weapon, and the long spear has been destroyed.

　　 Richard threw away the remaining half of the gun handle, jumped off the back of the chasing wind, and drew the long sword around his waist. Some stupid robbers saw this terrifying butcher leave the mount, and thought that there was an opportunity, brandishing a sword and rushing forward.

　　 The sharp blades were as fast as lightning. Most of them only saw an extremely bright flash of light passing in front of them, and their consciousness slowly sank into nothingness.

　　 Richard roared and rushed straight in the direction of the kobold shaman.

　　 The irritated robber couldn't hold back anymore, and howled like a hyena that saw fresh meat.

　　 Splitting up, swinging sideways, and picking down, the cutting power created by the giant's strange power and the sword made of star steel is unimaginable, and the hand feels sharp and crisp. The crowded robbers were as fragile as wheat straw under a sickle, with broken limbs flying horizontally and blood spattered.

　　 It's not that there are no outstanding martial arts masters trying to block, but the only result is that the person and the weapon are split in half. The robbers' attacks fell on the three-layer heavy armor, and it was useless except to wipe out a spark.

　　 He was soon unable to step on the ground anymore, because the broken corpses and residual limbs had covered every inch of the ground, and the efficiency of this killing was close to mowing the grass.

　　 Every time Richard and the barbarians move forward, a piece of robber falls. Their fighting spirit is not weak, but in the face of the strength gap, the strong fighting spirit can only make them die faster.

　　 The kobold shaman wanted to escape without turning his head, but the bandit with bloodthirsty thaumatism had no reason to listen to the demands of a little old man, and was sturdy enough to squeeze him in the middle.