After a little analysis, it is not difficult to find that in addition to the staggering number of the undead army in front of him, there are also several practical magic weapons.

First of all, there are quite a few law units, you must know that it is difficult for most ordinary principalities to recruit twenty elemental users to accompany the army at one time, and it is a miracle that the undead with a higher casting threshold can reach this level!

Secondly, there are all kinds of stalwart undead such as necromantic knights, and there are quite a few of them, so that the average quality of the entire army is not too inferior.

Coupled with the stitching monsters that can tear down the city walls with their bare hands by brute force, they will not be helpless even in the face of defensive facilities.

This configuration of the army of the undead is no longer synonymous with the lame feet that can be easily teased with a little cleverness in ancient legends. In fact, even the regular army of Pompeii had to concentrate their forces in the face of them and deal with them carefully!

But now, it all seems to have lost its intended effect.

Spellcasters have only managed to cast one spell since they entered the war, and to be honest, if it weren't for their hard work and cleverness, they wouldn't have been able to get trapped and unable to move.

The existence of a large number of backbone undead has indeed improved the average quality, but it is still very different from the opponent, and it is still only crushed, vividly interpreting what it means to turn over a salted fish or a salted fish.

Moreover, the effect of Vera's blessing magic on dealing with the undead is remarkable, and the gap is further magnified.

As for the Stitching Monsters, they are known for being tall and strong, but they don't hold up to taller and stronger giants, and now even saving their lives is in question.

If the undead were conscious, they would be surprised to find that the only advantage they could rely on was numbers.

But when it comes to dealing with inferior enemies with numerical superiority, it's not a boast, and there is no one who is more experienced than the Ripper Legion - after all, it's not just anyone who has the opportunity to face an overwhelming tide of spiders on time once a month!

I didn't even use the oil barrels prepared in advance, I just relied on a knife and an arrow to fight. The established rhythm is as steady as a well-oiled machine, and the constant influx of undead is more like sending them to death.

Even if you are not afraid of death, even if you hate living beings, even if you don't fight until the last moment, you will not give up, you still can't make up for the deep gap between the two sides!

Later, because the soldiers had been kicking the piled up corpses into the Nutao River to avoid getting in the way, and even blocked the river for a short time.

The war finally came to an end when the sun set in the west, and the undead could no longer be found standing.

It's just that almost every inch of land as far as the eye can see is filled with strange corpses. Under the dim light of the sky, it was as bloody as Shura's hell.

The endurance of the warriors of the Ripper Legion is simply longer than that of cattle, and after several hours of fierce fighting, most of them did not show too obvious fatigue. Groups of three or five gathered together, pointing at their results.

Richard arranged for people to guard along the riverbank to prevent the undead from crawling out to make trouble, and opened the system panel for advanced people to advance.

He hurried towards the castle.

"Teacher, the people you put our eyes on have been contained. Tomboy Sinclair greeted him with a flattering smile on his face.

She was already dark, and when she smiled like this at dusk, only a mouthful of teeth was dazzlingly white.

"Why don't I know when I'm going to be your master?" the lord rolled his eyes strangely and walked into the hall on his own.

The twenty "high-level undead" who were initially captured in the telescope tube were really unusual, and after encountering the Ripper warriors, they honestly gave up resistance, and then were imprisoned until now.

It's just that at this moment, they don't seem to be undead or high-level - they have a very pure living aura on them, and their complexion is not as gray as they were at the beginning.

And except for a few leaders, the remaining dozen or so are ordinary ordinary people, men, women and children. Right now, he's sitting on the floor huddled in a ball, looking like a refugee fleeing the famine.

Higuain was guarded by a team of heavily armed Tiger Spirit Hunters, but it seemed completely redundant, and even scared a few half-grown children.

Richard wondered if this was the core of the army of the undead, and he believed that Abu would be able to make a famous story on his own.

"Who the hell are you?" the lord untied the bloodstained robe and threw it away, and naturally someone reached out to catch it.

He showed off his skills today, and played the miraculous effect of not sticking to the leaves in the thousands of flowers. Even though he was fighting non-stop, he didn't have much dirty blood on his body, which required very clever control to do.

Only he and Elizabeth could try similar tricks in the whole Alpine Castle, and the others were still far behind.

The leader of the "refugees" stepped forward, a young man with dark green hair tied back haphazardly.

Although he looked poor and ragged, he was worse than the Hanako in Cologne. But Richard could feel that his strength was not weak, and it was this thing that flew with a sword and a crossbow arrow.

With that hand, you can easily become a guest of the local lord wherever you go.

A person with real skills is always respected, and even if he is now dirty as if he has just been fished out of the mud, he can't hide the essence of being a young Toshihiko.

As a result, the young man Toshihiko stunned the lord on the spot with one mouth - "Can you stutter first?"

He clutched his stomach and his face was very pale, and the sound of "grunting" continued to echo in the quiet hall of the lord.

“......”

Richard beckoned, and immediately someone brought over a fairly sumptuous meal. It's almost dinner time, and it's all ready-made.

The refugees immediately began to eat in a rage that was not much stronger than the undead who hated the living, and the lord could not help but doubt their identity again.

After ten days of starvation, Carlos was the only one who could keep his senses.

While trying to stuff something into his mouth, he also intermittently told the general situation of his group of people, but he was choked and rolled his eyes.

Eating too much of the fine white bread of the mountain castle was indeed more likely to choke on people than the black bread like the dregs of wood, and the taste made him want to cry with happiness.

"Are you a sect?" asked the lord in disbelief as he looked at the dozen or so starving ghosts reincarnated.

It's not that he has to look at people through the cracks in the door, but he can't figure out what kind of mentally retarded he has to be to get into this field and be willing to believe in the gods.

Their eating had already alarmed the whole castle, and even the halfling cooks came in with spatulas, feeling that their labor had never been so recognized, and added a few more steaks to them.

"Thank the gods for their gifts. An old man muttered as he ate, almost making the lord laugh.