The new enemy is a monster that is huge in size and unusually fat.

The big belly that hangs from the belly to the ground undulates in waves between the two short thick thighs with the monster's movements.

Two antler-like horns stretched out from the sides of the forehead for a distance of three or four meters, and countless sharp forks were inserted with the heads of various creatures as ornaments.

Most of them let out a wail to accompany the monster as it walked.

The few who didn't wail looked at the Demon Hunters with a resolute expression, as if expecting them to defeat the monster that had taken their lives.

The dark green skin is covered in herpes and tumors, and as always, it continues the tradition of Nagle's disgusting people, and carries a giant sickle more than five meters long on his shoulder.

Black ink-like venom poured out of the rusty blades, dripping onto the ground, and a foul-smelling flower quickly grew.

"Well, mortals, you may call me ......" The swollen monster uttered a prophecy in a strange tone that no one could understand, a language that crossed the lines of species and knowledge, allowing the meaning to be transmitted directly to the brains of everyone present.

"Forget it, you don't seem to be qualified to know my name, so call me the Plague Emissary." The pot-bellied Nurgle seemed to be a good-natured fellow, and spoke slowly to the demon hunters and elves.

If it weren't for the fact that the land around it was decaying, like the dark soil of a graveyard that had digested countless rotting corpses mixed with flesh, perhaps the Demon Hunter would have given it more time to introduce itself.

Xu Yichen jumped down from the wall of corpses, and outside the 'wall', the Apocalypse, who had the same brilliant record as its master, was already waiting for him under the Demon Hunter.

The cooperation of one person and one horse, constantly running in in the battle, becoming more and more tacit.

Apocalypse is a mount created for the Demon Hunter, who is its natural master, and despite Apocalypse's unruly nature, the Demon Hunter has been recognized for his prowess in battle.

"I don't have time to know your name, Fat Boy." The Demon Hunter straddled Apocalypse's back, the [Graceful Ripper] in his hand leaving a deep wound on the waist of the monster who claimed to be the Plague God Emissary.

"I'm going to call you Fat Boy, that's appropriate." Xu Yichen harvested two heads along the way, turned the horse, and said to the enemy in front of him: "What do you think? ”

The monster had a large area of honeycomb skin on its back, and a large number of 'flies' that had been seen before by the creek were constantly squeezing out of the flesh and flying back and forth.

This made the Demon Hunter feel a little sick, and he swore that whatever Nurgle's plot was, he would destroy it, and there would be no worse outcome.

"I can hear the contempt in your voice, but I can accept the name." The plague messenger accepted the name very kindly, and felt two handfuls of the wound on his waist with his huge claws, unaware that the wound was dripping with juice.

"The Great Lord of the Plague thinks you have great potential, mortal, are you willing to accept this favor?" The giant monster moved slowly, trying to face the demon hunter head-on.

But Xu Yichen didn't give it this chance, and once again cut the other party's fat belly from the side, and a large pool of yellow and green intestines mixed with each other flowed out of the wound and fell to the ground.

"Hah, that's how you like this little game?" There was a hint of anger in the voice of the 'fat boy', and he hurriedly stuffed all kinds of intestines from the wound back into his stomach, ignoring all kinds of debris on them: "Although I think the Lord of the Plague has done this too much, I still have to ask you again." ”

The 'fat boy', who tried to turn around again, accidentally stepped on one of his intestines, and all his previous efforts were in vain, and the intestines that had been stuffed back were scattered all over the ground again, and a lot of internal organs were brought out.

"Are you willing to accept the gift of the Lord of the Plague?" 'Fat Boy' gave up his original plan, and in a fit of anger, he used his sickle to cut off all the intestines connected to the belly, and asked loudly.

Thinking of the origin of his [regeneration] talent, Xu Yichen didn't say anything righteously, he was more accustomed to using practical actions to prove his position.

The Demon Hunter charged again, his blade aimed at the scythe-wielding monster, the Chaos Demon adept at all sorts of demagogic words.

Xu Yichen, who had suffered a loss, held the magic seal in his hand, and a faint shield appeared around, and at this time, his whole body was focused on the weapon in his hand.

He wants to enlarge the previous wound, and if he can't physically kill the monster in front of him, he will have to find an opportunity to break into the opponent's body and do another 'internal blast'.

If this world is really still favored by the gods, please don't let me use such a disgusting method to defeat the enemy again!

The Demon Hunter succeeded, and he once again left a scar at the location of the other man's wound.

On the way, he stopped and cut off the three monsters, leaving their filthy entrails and corrupt blood to spill on the dust.

But this makes no sense for the whole situation.

His worst enemy, the 'fat boy', turned slowly like a slow-moving old man, unconcerned about the scars on his body.

But when the long sword cut into the opponent's body, Xu Yichen could feel what kind of strong muscles were under the opponent's disgusting skin.

Its own enemy is not serious at all, it is playing with itself.

Around them, filthy creatures are still in abundance.

There could be hundreds, perhaps, thousands of mutated creatures!

Wobbly, misshapen humanoids writhed their mutated and twisted limbs, spewing venom.

The stupid beasts that roared and cried writhed their bloated bodies like giant poisonous slugs.

Behind every dead tree visible to the naked eye, dwarf horrors staggered along or hung on the flabby flesh of their large cousins, giggling and screaming.

They seem to come from all directions in an endless way, like swarms of flies attracted by the stench.

Apparently their enemies intend to consume themselves by relying on these protein accumulations that are meaningless to Nurgle.

The plaguebringer's dark yellow eyes shone with shrewdness, and he stretched out his tongue and sucked into his large hand stained with his own blood, "Let's have a good time, mortal. ”

The huge scythe slashed at the demon hunter in the opponent's hand like a Tarzan overpower.