The battlefield of the trolls and Sigwald is not the most terrifying and bloody existence in the entire empire at this moment, and the hellish scene appears in the remote border city of Aldolph in the west of the empire.

"Kids, kill, kill them!"

A strange man stood tall in the midst of the burning ruins of the city, holding an exaggerated white bone cane that was really long for its short stature, a white bone scepter made entirely of the heads of young rats, and at this time flashed with a strange blood light.

The Grand Warlord of the Nezumi [Grey Prophet] Elelen Skita, the most powerful Nezumi mage, led his clan rats out of the underground caverns at this time, vowing to occupy the world that humanity had snatched from them.

In front of and behind Sita are its children, its warriors, its admirers, the Albino Guards.

These strange white rats are very strong and clever, and in a one-on-one battle, the soldiers defending the city are completely powerless, and they are almost barely holding the last city by a ratio of four to two.

Every albino rat is destined to be powerful and endless from birth, and each of them is armed with a quenched sharp weapon, which is the best equipment that this inferior race that has existed underground for a long time can hold, and they are all stuffed into these big guys, giving them protection like iron buckets.

And as the last guard of Aldolph, Lord Müller's personal guard stood firmly before the people, along with their old lord.

Aldolph is a small city without portals, and Marshal Arius is galloping here with his men, but if Müller's calculations are correct, it will be at least a day before he arrives, which is a terrifying number.

The attack of the nezumi this time was too sudden and too cunning. These ugly creatures, which seem to be fabricated at will by demons, have all the viciousness and cruelty that humans can think of and cannot think of.

The attack began in the middle of the night, and the rats' eyes were better seen in the dark. The initial attack was not called a battle, a siege, even a hidden arrow, which is not the usual way of this group of cunning fellows.

A large vat of highly poisonous gas and liquid mixed poison was smashed directly into the heart of the city that had slept peacefully with a trebuchet.

In the screams and wails, many people ran wildly on the street in their nightgowns, but they could not stop being corroded by the venom to the point that only the bones remained, and more accidentally inhaled even a little bit of poisonous smoke in deep sleep, so that they were left with only their seemingly unchanged shells and muscles that had turned into blackened sludge.

All this is so cruel, this small border town with a total of only 100,000 people died in the most tragic way in an instant.

Angry soldiers rush out of the city to fight a dastardly enemy, only to plunge headlong into an almost endless sea of rats—slave rats.

Slave rats, they are the cheap combat power, or free combat power, that all nezumi warlords love. They are born with black fur, so they have no value and can only be used as food for slave rats, or other rats.

When a rat chooses to become a slave rat, it is no longer considered a warrior of any warlord. They are no longer individuals, their number can only be counted in thousands and thousands, they are tools for killing and blocking the onslaught of the enemy, nothing more.

These black dwarf rats were like ordinary gutter rats, dirty, with protruding fur and nothing else.

They had no weapons, no armor, and they were truly nothing but two red eyes burning with indignation at all these injustices.

What happens when the stubborn, morale-strong, and furious elite city defense troops collide head-on with rats like the ocean - have you ever seen an insect that accidentally falls into the sea?

They began slashing and slashing like gods of war in the rat swarm, and none of the rats could stop them from rushing forward.

Lord Muller clenched his saber in his hand and led the army to slash and slash all the way, rushing towards the nezumi Grey Prophet Sita who was watching coldly in the distance.

The tragedy came when the first warrior's weapon was finally snapped when he chopped at the rat's still somewhat hard bone.

It was like a signal that the warrior who had lost his weapon was drowned out by rats almost before anyone around him could react, and he could no longer be seen.

In this way, the cunning nezumi gained the absolute upper hand, and no matter how fierce the army was, it was difficult to face this kind of division regardless of attrition.

The albino rat guards trampled on the bodies of slave rats and rushed into battle, only to find that a large part of the city had been wiped out by the ratmen's division of forces, leaving only the 40,000 citizens they had protected and part of the crumbling eastern city.

"Warriors, behind us is our last home, we are the last wall!"

The roaring lord was approaching seventy years of age, his white beard meticulously trimmed, and at this time it was also stained with blood of unknown origin, perhaps his own, perhaps the rat man, maybe both.

The silver-white armor was pierced in multiple places by the albino rat's weapon, and blood oozed out, but every large rat that could inflict damage on this powerful veteran warrior received a slash that was too powerful to resist. The Lord himself is like a storm of blood on the battlefield, even if the battlefield is divided and gradually swallowed by the vast nezumi, he is still unstoppable.

"For Sigmar!" Shouting the name of the Founding Emperor, Sigmar, a rat was split in two by this venerable warrior and snatched one of his eyes before he died.

And so the Lord of Moller Caledo, who had come alive from the battlefield to govern the city, was once again covered in blood, as he had done forty years earlier, dueling with every rat that dared to come near him—and then victorious.

"Ah——!h

With the rat's unpleasant roar, the arrogance and impatience of the Grey Prophet himself prompted the strong rat-man himself towards the old warrior, who was almost unable to stand.

A one-on-one duel will not resolve the hatred for both sides, but it is necessary.

"Come on, stupid brute!"

Seeing the rats disperse, Lord Muller reluctantly stood up straight, staring firmly at the Grey Prophet who was walking forward step by step.

It was a terrifying monster taller than the white-haired rats, and the staff in its hand had killed countless powerful warriors with strange blood spells, and it seemed that just staring at it would give it a sense of impulse to leave the body.

Its steps are very slow and heavy, and it seems to be confident, because it is not only one of the warlords of the entire nezumi, but also the last seat of the supreme authority of the nezumi - the [Council of Thirteen], representing the most powerful force of the entire clan, it is very powerful.