Of course, the monster tracked down by the Earl has the ability to collect and eat corpses, and this ability is not small. Anything that can chew and swallow a full human arm with a bone in three or two bites, then its power is not small, is it? a rat giant, strong and tall, a kraken, cunning, cruel, and tactical. The creature in front of them is unlike any other, it is pure power, pure desire, undisguised violence and the evil that derives from it makes all who do not live on it tremble.

If there is anything in Lothar's life that is truly similar to it, I am afraid that only Wolfwalkers, who have become giant wolves and completely abandoned human thoughts. Interestingly, he never had the upper hand in Lothar's private rivalry with the werewolves, and wild creatures were never foolish, and the tricks between people were hardly effective for them. If you want to defeat them, you can only risk your life and fight against them with all your will and the strength of your whole body, and only in this way can you have a chance of winning in front of them.

"Purr" growled, coming from a thick throat that had just swallowed the remains of an adult's arm. The corpse-eating monster landed on all fours, its slender body bulging in the middle like a mountain peak, and it contained explosive power. Its steps were slow, and every slight movement hit Lothar's heartbeat.

Sweat, secreted from the palms of the hands. Fear and excitement mingle from the spine to every muscle and bone. The feeling was subtle, and although Lothar had faced many kinds of monsters, including worms that could be called deadly evil gods, there weren't many things that really made him feel this way. The reason is simple, ants will only inflict brutal violence on the ants in the other colonies, and they will not have the idea of a heroic battle against animals that are much larger than them.

Lothar understands this thrill, and its presence means that the opponent has not yet shown a state beyond what the Count can challenge. But it also means that in the subsequent confrontation, as long as there is a little slack, the death is only an instantaneous thing. And so, very well. The Count clenched his hand in the battle axe, he hadn't met an opponent in a long time who had made him feel like this. The confrontation of warriors is like a deadly sport, each time is a life of death, but as long as you pass through the only gate of life, you will inevitably begin to miss the tense feeling of suffocation before the crossing.

People are not swords, and swords do not need to be put into actual combat from time to time, as long as they are wiped and maintained, they can be kept in shape. But if one does not temper oneself in adversity, that kind of rot will grow from within, and when one is cornered, he will suddenly find that what lies deep in the scabbard can no longer be called a weapon. The long journey was not a smooth one, but there were no real opponents along the way who could make Lothar feel tricky. Although he would practice his swordsmanship with Batu and Atta whenever he had time, it was just to stay in shape.

Now is the time when the sword from the blue lion is truly unsheathed. The faint roar of the lion from the tomahawk cleared Lothar's mind, and his footsteps began to shift slightly, with the aim of keeping the corpse between him and his opponent. That way, the monster wouldn't be able to jump past the corpse and lunge at him, and he might be able to seize the opportunity to fight back effectively. As for taking the initiative, it was not in the earl's mind when facing an unclear and dangerous opponent. This is not a battlefield, and the battle here is not just about bravery.

But who said that a seemingly brainless monster cannot have savage cunning? The light of the torch shone a shadow, a mutilated humanoid shadow. The monster actually used its food as a tool, and threw it towards Lothar! This move was not a difficult move to think of, but what the Count didn't expect was that the monster was willing to let the food in his hand leave his side, you know, even if ordinary beasts have the ability, they will never be willing to use the food in their mouths as a tool for battle, they are reluctant.

And the corpse-eating creatures are willing, and Lothar is in a dilemma. Either that, the Count stood still, blocking or pushing, knocking the flying corpse away. Either way, he would have to move, either backwards or to the sides, at least to avoid the corpse's flight path. Either way, the battle will fall into the hands of the enemy, whether it's a sneak attack or a surprise attack, and the Earl, who has just dealt with the corpse, will never be able to deal with his real opponent in the best condition. And now Lothar has an even more fatal problem to face, and he doesn't have time to analyze it carefully.

Thinking is like this, sometimes you can figure out the complex things like stars in a short time, and sometimes you will spend a lot of time because of a simple choice but it is difficult to decide. Therefore, in the eyes of those who have been in battle for a long time, it is important to maintain calm and highly sensitive mental activities in battle, but as long as the thoughts are slightly chaotic, it is necessary to cut them off with a quick knife to prevent this chaotic thoughts from turning into real flaws. For this reason, even if you have to give up a slight advantage or even fight for injury, you will not hesitate to get hurt.

Torches, flying from the left side of the corpse. Leave a bright trail in the dark. Does this mean that Lothar chose to move in this direction to dodge? I'm afraid most people will think so, after all, for humans, torches are the basis for moving in the dark, even if you lose your weapon, you can't throw away the light source in the dark.

"Whew!" The grass slammed into the swift passing object with a clear shattering sound, and the fishy black shadow reached the torch faster than the corpse, drowning it in a bloody jaw before it hit the ground. This bit of flame also hurts the toughest part of the corpse creature's body, the mouth. Strange to say, it stands to reason that the torch has already entered the mouth, and the hand holding the torch cannot escape its fate, so why does the mouth not smell of sweet and delicious flesh except the smell of wood and tarpaulin? Could it be that the human was wearing too many clothes, and he didn't feel it after eating it continuously?

"Bang. "Dead bodies, landed. From behind the corpse, a silver light flashed. When the silver light streaked through the air, it carried the sound of the wind like the roar of a beast of prey.

It is said that creatures with tails are always paying special attention to their tails, so their bodies will evolve a denser pain system distributed on their tails to warn them that they must protect their tails. So when the tail is chopped, even the monster that can't make a sharp sound spits out a much louder howl from its throat than usual. After howling, it was natural to check and retaliate, and the monster immediately turned its slender body, trying to see the location of the person who had injured its tail. It was greeted with a punch to the nose!

The fist, naturally, is Lothar's. The Count's tactics were clear, and when the corpse approached, he decisively threw away the torch, grasped the handle of the axe with both hands, and then pressed the axe against the flying corpse. Then, he jumped over the corpse and slammed the monster into the tip of its tail before it could react. The damage of the slash tip is naturally not as good as the part of the body that is closer to the body of the slash, but this is also intentional on the part of Lothar. The axe is not a sword, and it is easier to get stuck in the wound while being easier to slash, so he deliberately inflicted less damage in exchange for the opportunity to fly up and smash his opponent's face with a flying punch while pulling out the battle axe.

This set of actions went smoothly without the slightest hesitation. If you don't think about it in your head, I'm afraid no one will believe it. But this was Lothar's natural reaction in a hurry, and it wasn't until the warm touch of his fist that his brain began to think rationally again. This is what the Count of Montenegro has honed in thousands of battles, and his weapons are not only battle axes, but also a body that has been carved into battle.