Zombies don't have intelligence – that's a well-established saying in the world.

They don't look like they're intelligent, not even beasts.

Eric, however, knew that it was an incomplete lie.

There's nothing wrong with zombies not having intelligence, that's why most people believe it.

But that doesn't mean zombies don't know how to fight.

They really knew how to fight, and Eric had even seen them attack the city, a fortified fortress built on a cliff, but the zombies didn't succeed in the end.

In order to defend the fortress, a total of nearly 2,000 defenders and more than a dozen generals, large and small, plus the lives of fifty-nine adventurers above the silver level, were paid.

The reason why most people have always felt that zombies are unintelligent things is because of the strict gag order, and secondly, because there are not so many people who are still alive after fighting zombies.

Eric took a deep breath and took a sharp step backwards with his left foot.

This step not only cracked the ground, but even squeezed up the rocks, one by one in a radial pattern, like his own beard.

Zombies don't know what fear is, and the most important thing in their rules of action is to attack the nearest creature, so none of the zombies are ready to bypass Eric and take the walled city directly.

Countless zombies poured in one after another, like the sea water that swells on the shore at high tide.

"Grip the Great Wind and Snow Mountain Shatter!"

The muscles of Eric's arms bulged as if they were inflated, popping his sleeves with a thud, and his rumbling hands clamped tightly on the handle of an adult-sized axe, and then swung the tomahawk violently.

A semi-circular trajectory is presented directly in front of the old man.

Such a huge tomahawk, when wielded, only presents such a thin blade light, which is really not in line with the direction of the script.

There are no gales and no snow-capped mountains.

The old man's action of swinging the tomahawk with all his might seemed to be just an illusion.

The bigger the weapon, the more powerful it is, that's a simple truth, but it doesn't seem to work anymore.

The blade light is only a thin line, and it may be lighter and thinner, as is the case with the drizzle in early spring, which often makes people wonder if it exists.

The zombies don't know when to complain, so in this very complaining situation, their behavior pattern has not changed.

You won't even notice that there's more than a hint of blade light.

The second blade light silently appeared where Old Man Eric had not swung his tomahawk at all, followed by the third.

When the third blade of light emerges at a height that is not even a plane, the chain cannot be stopped.

The silk threads, which had been fluttering lightly a moment ago, continued to expand and multiply in the reciprocating rotation, and when the last wisps of the storm that were enough to uproot the trees raged in the sky, a frantic howling tornado was formed.

An axe, just the power of an axe.

The tornado even continued to expand, and the storm seemed to contain inexhaustible power, and now it needed a gap to vent.

Faster than the kelp that had swelled up with water, the tornado soon reached a height of nearly 100 meters, and the old man Eric in the center of the storm was completely out of sight.

The zombies only knew that there were living people inside, and they slammed into each other one after another.

Before the zombies' bodies came into contact with the tornado, the sharp wind blades had already easily shredded their limbs.

The zombies are like balloons that have been blown up, and they don't even know where the corpses have flown to.

Rushing to a batch will be chopped up a batch, obviously it is a battlefield, and there will be an illusion of an assembly line for processing something.

In a matter of seconds, the zombies cut into pieces have unconsciously accumulated a layer on the ground, and there is even a tendency to continue to increase.

"Hahahaha!"

The heroic laughter instantly overwhelmed the power of the tornado, and Eric slammed his tomahawk into the sky, majestic and full of ritual, like the legendary Hercules god who opened the world.

The whirling tornado was also split in half in an instant.

The split wind did not disappear immediately, but flew in all directions like an exploding *, and each broken wind still maintained its original sharpness, snorting and cutting the stacks of zombies in half.

The dense tide of corpses was torn open with a strange-shaped rift, and Eric let out a long roar and killed directly along the rift.

With a random swing of a giant tomahawk, it creates countless pieces of meat, shattering metal, or a mixture of pieces of meat and metal, or maybe something else, and flying everywhere.

The tide of corpses, which had a slight rift, was filled in less than a second.

Eric never cared how many zombies he would kill with a single blow, and his attack routine seemed to be very rough, with few subtle tactics to speak of.

The simplest moves sometimes work best, especially when you don't even need to look at where the enemy is.

As long as you make a move, you will definitely hit, and the probability of hitting a short is absolutely zero.

However, a person's martial arts and courage are still not enough in front of countless zombies.

Throw a coin into the lake, and the end result can only be sinking.

Like a meat grinder turned on to its maximum power, Eric constantly bombarded the approaching zombies, and now he looked majestic, in fact, even he knew that this was a battle with no chance of winning.

The ones that are being slashed and killed now may not be counted as trash fish.

A truly terrible and terrifying enemy is about to emerge.

The balls made of zombies are disgusting, of course, but they are also funny in a sense.

Eric knew how scary this kind of thing was, and from the beginning, his real goal was to collect these zombies.

However, the zombie collection is also consistent with the action rules of other zombies, and he will not feel that Eric is an enemy that ordinary zombies can't deal with, so he takes the initiative to attack, and he is very casual.

If you kill too much, you will always meet you.

The two groups of zombies are already very close, their speed is relatively slow, and they can't gather into an army at once for a while, so it's a good time to break through each one.

"That's you!"

Eric shook off the zombies that pounced around him, picked up his tomahawk and ran towards a mass of zombies.

Just now, there was even a zombie who slipped through the net and gnawed at him, and it was a variety with teeth strengthened by metal, which was useless, and this level of attack couldn't even penetrate his skin, which was the cost of doing whatever he wanted.

There was no need for words, and the still sharp tomahawk slashed down directly from the top and in the most direct way.

In the straight cold light, a blood-red flame suddenly erupted.

Eric only felt that his ears suddenly lost function, and then he was rushed out by an extremely powerful force, like a huge battle axe growing on his body uncontrollably out of his hand.