"If you want a good life, you have to fight with your life, you used to die, you were either eaten by beasts and turned into dung, or eaten by other tribes and turned into dung, and now, when you die, you can be buried, get a tombstone with your name written on it, and you can also get a generous pension, enough for your children to grow up!"

The cold gaze of the blood hammer swept over the natives, "The opportunity is right in front of you, if you don't want to stay in the dragon hills for the rest of your life, forget your lives, fight like a beast, and crush the enemy in front of you!"

"Crush!"

"Crush!"

"Crush!"

Although the formation was chaotic, the morale of the natives was high, they believed in the Great Prophet of the Virtuous Wolf, believed in Downton, and more importantly, the life of these days was the most comfortable they had in their lives.

With gold coins stuffed in his pocket, he can wander around the human kingdom at will, he can buy anything he wants, as Downton's subordinates, no one dares to despise them, and those merchants will send smiling faces and serve eagerly, which was unimaginable before.

Although the natives of the hills have low IQs, they also understand that if they want this life to continue, they must make Downton the biggest lord.

In the past, they worked hard for a bite to eat, but now they are desperate, for a better life, and the natives who have long been out of the way do not hesitate to fight.

"Leave a thousand people behind, and the rest go back to the camp!"

The bloodhammer roared, what the barbarian could do, it thought the ogre could do.

"You're thinner, you go back!"

"Lao Tzu's arms are thicker than your thighs, and you say I'm thin?"

"What's wrong with being thin? Lao Tzu can still kill!"

The ogre pushed and shoved, but he couldn't go back to the camp, and then because of the quarrel, it turned into a hand.

The blood mallet has long been used to this kind of thing. The natives are unreasonable, and whoever has a hard fist has the final say, so he didn't stop his subordinates at all, and rushed straight to the king's army camp on a war bear.

It's a two-headed ogre, very rare, so the sentinels are nervous. Aim their bows and arrows at him.

"Hey, King, send 10,000 men to fight us, of course, twice as much!"

The blood mallet roared, and in order to make a strong move, the staff in his hand was raised towards the sky, and a blue lightning bolt fell from the sky and slashed behind him. It turned into seven blue lightning bolts that wrapped around the body.

Some of the sentries thought that the blood mallet was going to move, and with a shake of their hands, they shot bows and arrows.

Crackle!

The blood mallets didn't bother to dodge, the lightning shield blocked them all, and instead of leaving, he stared at the camp, waiting for an answer.

Look at the ogres in a mess. The observers were dumbfounded, what kind of infighting was this? But a closer look. These natives are so strong.

Even the shortest ogres are six meters tall, and the richer ones are wearing animal skirts, and the poor eggs have a grass skirt around their waists, which instead exposes their muscular and tendony bodies~ exposed. Coupled with the terrifying face of the outturned teeth, you don't need makeup to play a monster in the opera house.

Downton couldn't help but cover his eyes, those bear goblins who came out were the worst, and they were also two-meter-tall muscles ~ sticks, but they were directly grabbed by the tall ogre and thrown more than ten meters away. These guys don't know how to keep their hands, but fortunately, the bear goblins are also rough and thick-skinned, otherwise they would have caused a lot of non-combat attrition.

"Don't fight, the chiefs of each tribe stay, and then pick twenty clansmen!"

Rosicky couldn't stand it anymore and roared.

"It's worthy of a prince, this method of selecting people is so insidious!"

The cheap god complained, the natives want to save face the most, and they don't want to be compared, so the chiefs are naturally the elites of the tribe, and the chiefs lead the team, if they die, the rest of the people will inevitably rely more on Downton.

"Majesty, what should I do?"

The old squire asked.

"Ahem, let the Third Corps dispatch!"

The old king was out of energy, and sat down in his chair, and although he held a silk scarf to his mouth, he could still see blood oozing out.

While the observers were speculating on what the king would do, the sentries hurriedly removed the barricades again, and a standard-bearer came out with a Wyvern banner, followed by a squad of infantry.

It would be a bastard not to take advantage of it, so the king not only sent 20,000 people lightly armed infantry regiment, but also let the priesthood regiment and the mage regiment go into battle at the same time.

Whoa!

The blood mallet shoots two green flares into the sky, and he wants to learn from the barbarians, not assist.

"These hill natives are too arrogant, aren't they?"

"That's it, such a chaotic battle formation, such a terrible weapon, what kind of dream do you want to kill 20,000 well-equipped infantry?"

"I want to see them finish soon!"

The observers felt that these natives were too big, although they looked not small, but they had no armor, and their weapons were even worse, either wooden sticks nailed with a few rusty iron nails, or stone mallets, and they dared to learn from the barbarians not to assist?

"No, there's no support from Downton?"

While the observers were talking, they saw two red flares rising from the King's army, which unfurled into brilliant fireworks.

"What does that mean?"

Some chieftain who had never seen the world asked.

"The other party refused, Male, does this mean that we are inferior to the barbarians?"

Bloodhammer was furious.

"Crush them!"

The natives roared in unison, and then began to move forward, and as for the war drums or anything, they didn't need them at all.

"Charlotte?"

Downton was not at ease, and wanted the virtuous wolf to make a move, but in order to save his momentum, the king's army didn't even want to lose his face, and successively sent the priesthood regiment and the mage regiment, which was completely like a conventional battle.

After all, this was the ogre's provocation first, and Downton couldn't refuse if he wanted to.

"Lord, you don't need the Great Prophet to do it, it's enough to have us. ”

A few old shamans in animal skin cloaks patted their chests at Downton and reassured them, and then they walked to the battlefield, and the young ones hurried to follow.

"I'm Deboro, how did I forget these guys?"

Seeing a group of natives with colorful feathers on their heads coming out, an observer slapped his head and suddenly realized.

Holding a staff carved from various trees, wearing a necklace made of skulls, gems, and all sorts of unnamed things around his neck, and the heavy tattoos on his face that can't be seen, no need to ask. Definitely an indigenous shaman.

Heaven is fair, and even among the natives with extremely low civilization, lucky people will be born, born to communicate with nature, resonate with elements, and become shamans. These people are undoubtedly the wise men of the tribe, shouldering the task of inheritance.

Although the shaman's natural magic is mysterious and mysterious, it is still too monotonous compared to the mainstream world with a developed magical civilization, which is the general perception of the magical world, not that there are no magicians trying to study, but shamanic magic is naturally comprehended, even if it is recorded. It is also carved in simple frescoes carved into the stone walls of caves, or engraved on cobblestones, which have no reference value at all.

For this reason, the shamans used it to be called divine magic, not magic, meaning a gift from the gods that could not be learned through guò effort in the same way as magic.

To say the duel between shamanism and magic. The observers had never seen it, because no one had ever been able to gather so many indigenous shamans.

Infantry on both sides advanced at the same time. When they were still a few hundred meters apart, the mage regiment had already exchanged fire, and as a battery class on the battlefield, their task was to destroy the enemy's formation and let their own soldiers kill the router.

After blessing the shield, dozens of fireballs rose from the King's Army mage regiment. With billowing black smoke ballistics, it shot at the shaman division, as long as they were defeated, the infantry would be miscellaneous fish, not to mention the support of the priesthood regiment. There's no need to rush.

The shamans also defended first, blessing themselves with the shield of the earth.

The essence of the soil was extracted, forming five coconut-sized balls that flew out of the ground and wrapped around the shamans, and with the swing of the staff, a large cloud of lightning converged overhead, crackling and bursting, and blasted towards the mage.

According to the regular combat habits of the mage group, it should be that the two sides shoot magic at each other, and until one side suppresses it, the battle formation of this side will be attacked, but today is different.

The lightning chain of the Shaman's Regiment's Regiments did not intercept those fireballs at all, but went straight to the Mage Regiment's main formation.

Boom! Boom!

Lightning strikes the magic shield, and the elemental explodes, sending sparks flying.

The mages have experienced this kind of tactic, and the broken shields are quickly re-blessed, and even if there is no problem, they have refreshed a few more shields.

They were only hired by the King's Army, and they didn't intend to die here.

The fireball also hit the shaman, and the earth shield crumbled, but they didn't care at all, and continued to chant the divine spell, bombarding the lightning chain in the opposite direction.

"Fight back, don't be suppressed by them!"

The mage leader roared.

The mages were not as desperate as the shamans, and they hurriedly cast magic to intercept the lightning chain, coupled with the time wasted by refreshing the shield just now, so that although they were the first, they still fell into passivity.

"These shamans are of a good standard!"

Experienced observers saw that the shamans relied on the selection of attack targets in the first wave, and they got the advantage at once, and the casting speed was not slow, not to mention the counterattack of the mage group, it would be good to be able to intercept all the magic blows.

"Priesthood Regiment, Divine Auxiliary!"

The head of the regiment saw that the faces of some mages had changed drastically, and he knew that something was wrong, and he couldn't care about his face, so he hurriedly asked for help.

In the battle of the mage group, the passive defensive side will always face huge psychological pressure, because if it can't withstand it, it means that it will directly withstand the attack.

Hearing the words of the regimental leader, the observers were in an uproar, because it meant that the mage regiment lost as soon as the confrontation began.

Being stared at by those disdainful eyes, the head of the regiment was depressed, what could he do? Mages are originally scarce talents, and those who have strength have been recruited by those second-rate, or even first-class powers, and there are not many talents left, or the rest are eliminated, and Frankfurt is the coexistence of the five major forces, and the natural king will get even less, so you have to pay a high salary and a noble title, otherwise people don't like you at all.

On the other hand, Downton's shamans are all experienced guys, and they have at least hundreds of battles, because the dragon hills are not greenhouses, and those who can't adapt to them are dead. (To be continued......)