The first snow of winter hadn't fallen yet, but the Karelian region had begun to get cold, and the likes of jackals and bears, centaurs and humans already had to wear thick fur clothes to protect against the cold.

The cold wind carries a lot of moisture, which makes the soil under your feet also become a lot muddy, and the occasional cold rain falling from the sky also makes the transportation work extremely difficult.

There was no way, and without the corresponding tools, they could only use brute force to tire the car, as for the casters to do it...... Thinking too much, in such a cold and light rain weather, just for this little thing to let the spellcaster take action, is not to be sent away by them with a fireball, not to mention that most of the spellcasters in the Attila Empire are in the Finnish army.

"When will this weather end? ”

A human pushed the cart hard, whispering that his hair was sticking together and smelling foul, and that his clothes were stained, gray, yellow, brown, and black were mixed together, making it difficult to see what the clothes were.

The shoes under his feet are leather boots made of cowhide, and the hair on the outside has long been worn out, and the outside is covered with clay and sludge, which looks particularly dirty.

However, even if it was so dirty, it could help the human's feet to isolate the cold outside, allowing him to maintain a certain amount of mobility in such a harsh environment.

He was now pushing an ox cart made of wood, and two sturdy bulls were struggling with their hooves in front of him to pull the cart out of the mud pit and out of the bad situation he was in.

"Don't complain too much, do what you have to do, no matter how much you complain, it won't change. ”

Beside him, his companion, who was pushing the cart with the same force, whispered comfort, his companion was dressed like him, and it was only necessary to tell at a glance that their status was very low, perhaps only a little better than that of the lowest slave.

This is also a matter of no choice, after all, compared to the Jackals, Centaurs, White Bears and Mammoths, ordinary humans living in the Rose Steppe are still too different physically, whether it is one-on-one combat or group fighting, they are not as good as other races.

The same is true in other respects, the Rus steppe area is not suitable for the development of agriculture, and they are not as good as centaurs in grazing, and they are not as good as gnolls in hunting, and it is already very difficult to survive in that chaotic steppe.

Therefore, in this expedition to the west of the Attila Empire, these humans were only assigned to the work of logistics and transportation, and the food, furs and other materials produced by the Rus steppe were delivered to the front-line soldiers through the Rus steppe-Karelian-Finnish road through the Rus steppe-Karelia-Finland road.

"And our job is no better than theirs. ”

The man's companions remembered the other races in the Rus' steppes that were lower than them, the poor ones who could not even guarantee the basic right to life, who had to give everything for the powerful race in normal times, and were treated as food in times of difficulty.

"Freedom, Battle, Glory...... We also have the blood of the great Scandinavians in our bodies. ”

This sentence is muttered in a voice that can only be heard by himself, you must know that now the Attila Empire has officially launched a western crusade against the Scandinavian Empire, if other people hear such words, not only will he be tortured in public as an example, but his race will also be affected by him, if unfortunate, it is not impossible to become a second orc race.

After all, even the orcs, the traditional three evils of the north, the important force in the hands of Atila, were destroyed by Atila because of some trivial things, not to mention the humans who were only a little better than slaves in status, and to a certain extent, their relatives across the Baltic Sea also caused them a lot of trouble.

It took half an hour, and the two human men still couldn't push the ox cart out of the mud pit, and the two of them were sweating profusely and their faces were red.

This is not in a hurry, even if the muscles are very sore now, they will continue to solve the problem, if the problem is not solved after the team rests, then being whipped is already a very light punishment.

In Atira's empire, there is no such thing as a law, and there are no regulations, if there is, then it is the subordinate of the strong, and he can arbitrarily order the subordinate of the weak, as if the strongest Athela occupies the throne of the empire, as a matter of course.

Therefore, the scale of punishment for making mistakes is also based on the mood of the superiors, and if you are in a good mood, you will have a few whips, and it is not a strange problem to get out of a bad mood, unless there are other people who use their strength to change the relationship between superiors and subordinates, and turn the relationship between the strong and the weak upside down.

As a last resort, the two of them went to seek the help of their companions, and soon more than twenty humans gathered around the ox cart, and they also brought two bulls, tied to the front of the cart side by side with the original two, and with their efforts, the car finally got out of the mud pit. (Actually, in this case, you only need to put two planks under the wheels as support points.) ）

Without giving them time to rest, the convoy was on the road again, and because the whole convoy was pulled by oxen and the bad weather, they were moving very slowly, so they had to seize every minute and every second.

On the one hand, they need to get these supplies to the front-line fighters as soon as possible, and if they slow down, they may be punished.

On the other hand, they still need to guard against the appearance of the enemy, after all, in the last big battle, those frost giants and centaurs, as well as Beowulf's army, did not do less to destroy supply lines, nor did they attack transport convoys.

"Don't worry too much, in such weather, on such muddy soil, even centaurs can't run with all their might, and besides, we still have this. ”

The man's companion was now seated at the bow of the bullock cart, pulling a rope in one hand and a black wooden spear in the other, grinning at the man.

I don't know how long this wooden spear has been used, and the black color on it is the appearance of blood mixed with dust after drying, although it is not beautiful at all, but it can bring a lot of security to these humans.

There is no way, in Attila's empire, even the gnolls and centaurs who belong to the regular army can only use tools made of wood, stone, and bone, and this human was able to obtain this spear, which is still thanks to these ox carts.

It is precisely because these materials are so important that the soldiers above will distribute the few weapons below to the laymen, or recruits, who have not even undergone real training.

They had to guard against not only the Baltic guerrillas (due to Alice's orders, this theoretical guerrilla force has not yet officially landed on the northern continent), but also the beasts that haunt the night, just rudimentary packaging, but there is no way to eliminate the smell of food, and the beasts with a keen sense of smell, white bears, brown bears, winter wolves, silver wolves, wyverns and even pure-blooded dragons, will attack this convoy because of these scents.

This has happened many times in the Rus's steppe, especially at night, when the men are in trouble, and when the beasts like to attack, and there are a few days when the people of the convoy get up, they find that the guards and the people who drove the carts are dead, and the oxen and the food of the carts have disappeared without a trace, leaving no trace.

No matter who they are, they don't want to be those unlucky people who die in vain, so these weapons in their hands, which don't seem to have much effect, still bring them a sense of security to a certain extent and play a role in calming people's hearts.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

In the center of the convoy, the largest and most luxurious ox cart, the sound of a horn was heard, and the characteristic frequency told everyone that the convoy was under attack and that it was time to fight.

No one doubted the authenticity of the signal, because it was the only place in the convoy where the caster was, and even a caster with absolute power in the convoy who could perform dictatorial spells could not make such a bad joke unless he wanted to try what it would be like to be punished by someone higher.

It is true that the caster has certain privileges, great power, and a high status, but in Atira's empire, these are all provided that they do not cause trouble to their superiors.

The convoy was a little flustered, even if they had experienced some training before, and knew some basic combat methods, but at the end of the day, the people here were just unorganized and undisciplined recruits, and no one expected them to perform well, not even themselves.

The bull was untied and placed inside, while the cart was closed and placed in a circle at the outermost end to act as a barrier, and the food on it became bait.

Such a formation has a great advantage when dealing with those beasts that can only not be high, and those who can't resist the charm of food will soon be nailed to the ox cart with spears by prepared humans and become their trophies.

However, if the enemy is not a beast, or if he has a high level of intelligence, then it is not the spear in his hand that can give them a sense of security in this wilderness, but the spellcaster who is located in the center of the convoy and protected in the innermost, and only he can have the power to turn the situation on the battlefield on his own.

"Why are there no footsteps?"

The human man thought strangely, he now clenched the spear in his palm, felt the rough sensation coming from his hand, and cautiously leaned against the side of the ox cart, not daring to poke his head out to observe the situation outside.

"Of course there were no footsteps...... We walked without footsteps now. ”

His companion next to him reminded him that in such muddy soil, unless it was a giant beast such as Mammoth or Beamon, there might be a slight sound of footsteps.

"Who is the enemy? are the rebels? or ......"

The man asked again and again, not knowing whether it was out of curiosity or because only such non-stop talking could reduce the tension in his heart.

"I don't know, hopefully not rebels, preferably just ordinary beasts. ”

The rebels are the Frost Giants and Centaur armies that had betrayed Attila and were defeated later, although most of them were wiped out in the final battle, and those who fled fled further north to more desolate places.

But there are still a small number of guys, who were originally granted to guerrilla in the territory of Attila to carry out sabotage, have not been completely wiped out, they use excellent mobility, elusive attacks on the territory of Atila, often looting and then leaving, bringing huge losses.

The combat effectiveness of these stragglers should not be underestimated, and the perennial guerrilla warfare has allowed them to develop an eye for distinguishing the enemy's strength, and the hard stubble will never be touched, but will only be pinched with soft persimmons, and if one area is on guard, they will not hesitate to move to the next area to continue to wreak havoc.

It's not that no one in the Attila Empire wants to deal with these guys completely, and if the three knights are allowed to take action, it is not too difficult, but the chaos in the Rus steppe makes it impossible for the knights to deal with it, and a large number of things in the western expedition after that also tie the hands and feet of the knights.

"Wait, what's that sound......

Because of the angle, they could not see the situation outside, but to their surprise, it was not the characteristic sound of water stepping on the muddy ground, but the sound of bats flapping their wings like a swarm in the evening.

"What ...... is this......?"

These were the last words of the man left in this world, the blood-stained spear in his hand finally could not help him continue to survive, the flames that fell from the sky engulfed him and the ox cart, and before the last consciousness disappeared, what remained in the dim pupils was a figure soaring in the sky.

Dragons......

In his last sigh, the man's consciousness was engulfed in darkness, and all that remained was the roaring fire and the black smoke that emitted the stench of burning grease.

The dragon appeared not only to the unlucky man, but also to the leader of the convoy, the caster, and to the three knights who had already entered the Finnish region and were about to cross the sea.