As if he knew that his life was about to run out, the old ogre, who was barely on his knees and did not want to fall, suddenly opened his closed eyes. Gone from the two huge eye sockets were the weather-beaten red eyes, which had seen the vicissitudes of life, and were replaced by a charred hollow. But even so, in the deepest part of the empty eye socket, there seemed to be two deep black flames burning and beating. In the next moment, the two black flames suddenly rose and magnified, and a pair of indescribable terrifying eyes instantly passed through the smoke-filled space of the castle and landed on Moriarty's face, as if they were going to suck the figure of the enemy in front of them into the black flames, and then drag them into hell together.

"The Last Beamon Elegy" (Battle Song) - and listen to the wind!

Trying his best to suppress his last life force, Old Gordon began to sing silently with his soul:

The wind blows in the ears with a gentle sorrow;

It is like a distant lover who stands alone on a hill and sings lonely.

For many years, I have forgotten how many years I have not returned to my hometown;

Wipe a handful of dirt off your face and collect the aches and pains.

……

This is the death war song summoned by the Beamon shaman at the cost of burning his own soul. The terrifying power condensed by the war song can directly penetrate the surface of physics, attacking the soul of the enemy, causing it to completely die. Legend has it that there is no way to be immune to such a soul attack. And the recipient has no other way than to burn his soul to resist the damage of the war song.

However, the final elegy sung by Shaman Beamon with his soul was only half completed, and it was permanently interrupted by a magic arrow.

"Unfortunately, I don't have the ability to listen to it in its entirety right now."

Moriarty looked at the old ogre, who was pierced by the silver magic arrow through his forehead, and finally refused to fall to the dust, and bowed slightly. Then, drawing the crimson dagger at his waist, he stepped forward quickly, and stabbed it into Shaman Bimon's neck.

And at the moment when the blade sank into the flesh and blood of the old Gothon, wisps of silky tentacles as thin as gossamer, but with a faint dark golden light, suddenly emerged from the skin under Moriarty's wrist, and then like a crazy vine, it probed into the wound along the blade of the crimson short sword, and then writhed and danced wildly.

After just a few breaths, the old ogre's huge body was faintly shriveled down a layer, as if a large amount of flesh and blood essence had been rapidly drained. A few blood-colored tentacles could even be seen protruding from the wounds on Shaman's forehead and eyes, dancing happily in the smoke of blood and fire. It's just that this qiē vision is so insignificant in the chaos of the battlefield that even White, who is following behind Moriarty, is not aware of it.

After a few more breaths, as if finally satisfied, the red silk tentacles were withdrawn from Shaman Beamon's body one after another, and quickly retracted under Moriarty's wrist, and there was no trace of it.

At this time, Moriarty moved the hilt of his sword, cut off the head of the old ogre, and threw it to his followers.

"The leader of your waiting group is dead and wounded, and if you don't give me a retreat immediately!"

White immediately inserted the Cauchy Golden Shield in his hand in front of him, and then raised the head of the Beamon Shaman in his hand and shouted. Immediately, the surging shouts resounded throughout the audience.

And in the next second, the Savage Totem collapsed.

Commander Valyosha was seriously injured and unconscious, Beamon Shaman Gordon was killed and decapitated, and four mushroom clouds killed the ogre and a large number of big-eared thieves, all of which added up to the psychological bottom line that most of the thieves of the Savage Totem could bear. I don't know who let out the first howl of fear, and immediately, the big-eared barbarians who had been frantically attacking the Chebao just now began to scramble and flee towards the night behind them. At the forefront were the four big-eared berserkers and Valyosha, who was under their tight guard and still hadn't woken up. …,

Compared to the entire barbarian runaway, the movements of the remaining ten ogres were much slower. There is even an exceptionally tall ogre who does not seem to want to give up on their leader, Old Gordon, and instead "bucks the tide" and roars towards White in the castle, intending to reclaim the shaman's body and head. However, the "brave" ogre was greeted by the agitated chorus of a lion's roaring crossbow and a lightning-fast armor-piercing flaming arrow. Eventually, when the ogre's palm was pierced by a flaming arrow and burned into a scorched torch of flesh, the fear of death overcame the not-so-strong determination, and fled with the other ogres towards the northern wasteland.

"It's just a man-eating beast, but it has a bit of courage to fight." Looking at the ogre's back, as he strode away, White whispered to himself, as if to explain that he didn't directly use the blasting arrow to kill the enemy.

However, Moriarty did not listen to White's "nagging" at all, but walked towards the ring fortifications. There, the bloodied Butler Franklin and the other two mid-ranking knights who had gathered in a hurry were staring at Moriarty with the weariness and awe of the rest of his life in their eyes. As for the other living people in the castle at this moment, most of them looked at the back of the thief who left in a hurry and the Moriati who walked slowly, silent as a group of sculptures frozen in flesh and blood.

"Mr. Franklin, you seem to be wounded." Ignoring the strange gazes of the crowd, Moriarty calmly walked to the front of the castle, looked up at the steward who was still holding a blood-stained spear in his hand, and smiled.

"Ahh Ah, nothing, just a few pieces of skin. Franklin looked down at the Moriarty, who was dressed in brown leather armor but almost immaculate, shook his head with a wry smile, and then jumped off the top of the wagon with Hubert's support, and at the same time threw the spear in his hand aside: "I almost thought I was going to be unable to stand it just now, so I thought that instead of being killed and eaten like dogs by those thieves, it would be better to fight before I die, and pull a few more big-eared mongrels on their backs." ”

To be honest, with Franklin's age and status, it is no longer easy to stand on the front line with a blade and fight to the death with ordinary soldiers against a strong enemy. Therefore, Moriarty also nodded respectfully to the fat old man, who was almost a sixtieth birthday.

"Thank you, Sir Ensberg. Together with Mr. White, you, avenged the Camaro knights and repelled the thieves' attacks. At this time, Grant and Huber stepped forward from both sides and bowed deeply to Moriarty and his followers: "If it weren't for your strong counterattack, I'm afraid everyone present would have become a lonely soul in the wasteland." ”

"In the face of the attacks of barbarians and thieves, we naturally have the same hatred." Moriarty shook his hand, motioned for the other party to get up, and then turned to look at the steward: "Mr. Franklin, now that we have completely defeated the barbarian totem, how is the caravan going to move next?" ”

"Now, hey, let's get the wounded and the dead first." Franklin thought for a while, sighed and said, "Of course, we will do our best to save those who can be saved, but those bodies can only be buried on the spot, and they are really powerless to take away." ”

For a long time, caravans have been outside, and if a caravan member dies due to illness or accident, most of them are buried in the local area, and few of them can return to their hometown. Among them, there are not only health and epidemic prevention reasons, but also huge cost factors. So, when Franklin proposed to bury the dead in place, no one objected. Even if the person who died was his own relative, he could only do so ruthlessly.

With no outside threat for the time being, Moriarty immediately began to treat the caravan's wounded with hydrotherapy. However, because the thieves' offensive in the final stage was so fierce and cruel, there were not many wounded who could still survive to repel the strong enemy, but more than ten people, and more than a hundred other mercenary soldiers and ordinary caravan members had all been killed. And so far, those who can still maintain sound mobility and a certain combat ability, plus Moriarty and Grant and others, are only forty or fifty people. And depending on the situation, even after receiving Moriarty's magical treatment, at least half of the dozen or so wounded will not survive the dawn. And for this, whether it is Franklin or Moriarty, they are already helpless, and they can only follow their destiny. …,

After settling the wounded, Franklin and a dozen of his unharmed men began to clear the scattered goods and the wagons and wagons that were still in a circle.

It's quite a tough job. Because of the fierce battle before, the originally well-sealed cargo bags had already been broken and cracked, and some even went too far, scorching most of them blackened. The wooden carts that were used as fortifications were even more damaged, and at a glance, almost half of them could not be re-routed. But in order to minimize the damage for the Chamber of Commerce, Franklin kept cursing while constantly rummaging through the piles of seemingly destroyed bags to find the goods that were still valuable, and then handed them over to others behind him to reorganize, sort, and pack. As for the wagons and carriages, Franklin gave carte blanche to a few repairmen in the caravan, who disassembled and disassembled them as they pleased, and only asked to put together as many vehicles as possible to be on the road before dawn.

Finally, after being busy for most of the night, Franklin was able to salvage nearly 50,000 worth of goods from the damaged goods, which directly reduced the caravan's losses in goods by half. Once repacked, the bags were carefully loaded onto trucks that had been hastily refurbished and barely ready to move again. Fortunately, the horses and mules that were driven out did not suffer any losses, so the caravan now had enough animal power to pull these obviously overloaded and not very good vehicles

Thank you for your collection and recommendation, please continue to support a certain elephant.

In addition, I would like to thank the brother of "not going to the room for a day" for his reward, and his name is very stylish.