The Count didn't even see what he was doing. He only felt a tingling pain in his body, and then his body fell uncontrollably backwards, and at the same time, the stinging pain turned into an even more intense pain, coming from multiple places on his body at the same time. He quickly realized that it wasn't an individual who had knocked him down, unless it had a lot of mouths.

Lothar was right, it wasn't a single individual who was frantically tearing at his armor and the flesh that showed it, but a group of strange creatures that looked like monkeys but had no hair. These little monsters were the height of five or six year olds, but their arms were as slender as monkeys living in the treetops, their skin was hairless, it was pitch black, and only their two eyes were completely white. The so-called imp is actually not a clear name, after all, not everyone in this world is as desperate as the gray robes to give everything a unique name.

Imp is a general term, and the meaning of imp is naturally different in different regions. However, this small goblin is associated with dead babies or premature babies in most areas, and the grasslands are no exception. Because of customs, the treatment of deformed, stillborn, and other babies with congenital diseases on the grassland is abandoned. It's not to blame the parents of those poor children for being ruthless, it's really that the tribe doesn't have the extra resources to maintain the existence of these little beings. When abandoning these babies, few parents can kill them ruthlessly, and most of them abandon them and dare not look back.

Of course, most of these abandoned babies were reduced to food for the grassland predators, which was also the original intention of their abandonment. However, similar to the reason for the appearance of most of these ghosts, there is always a small probability that if the abandoned baby is not eaten by the beast in a short period of time, they will have time to feel their life. This is a cruel thing, to ask a person who has just come to this world to feel the most painful side of this world for life, helpless, lonely, hungry, dazed. This is where the problem begins.

There is always something dirty in the world, and evil spirits are born from those things. Abandoned babies are naturally powerless to become demons, for example, the moray eel demon that Lothar once encountered in Heartless Bay is a terrifying existence that took an unknown number of years to conceive, and abandoned babies do not have such time. However, when these poor children die in pain, their bodies become some kind of attraction, and those things that are attracted to them have an unknown origin and purpose, but they never let go of this opportunity. After death, their bodies will continue to be vigorous for a period of time, and nails and hair will grow. The same is true of abandoned babies who are occupied by inexplicable things, their immature bodies have become hotbeds, and they have been twisted into this form by the remnants of their vitality. Fortunately, the baby's vitality is limited, and it only becomes a ghost.

Even so, the little ghosts are still very dangerous, probably out of the loneliness of dying, these little creatures will spontaneously look for or make their kind in the grasslands, and many tribes have legends that those little black monsters will steal newborn babies and turn them into the same. When there are a number of imps, their horror is revealed. A single imp can't win an adult in a head-on fight, although they have toxins on their minions, but the dose of toxin is too small, and at most it can make people sick. It's a different story with plural imps.

Lothar could feel the pain near the wound turn into something worse, and he was no stranger to toxins invading his body. But he can't get the toxin out of his body in time now, because he has too many enemies in his body. There was a vampire who was almost devoured by a swarm of rats, and the Count once took it as a joke. Now he felt that he could relate to the helplessness of being overwhelmed. I can't shake it off, I can't break it off, and if I knock one out, two will hang up. Lothar reluctantly gave up resistance, and protected his hands in front of him, so that the enemy would not touch the vital points of the neck and head.

Actually, the Count's condition is not so bad, the leather armor on his body and the chain mail in the leather armor effectively protect his body, relying on the minions of the imps, it is a time-consuming task to tear off these armors, as long as someone can help him drive the imps out of his body and let Lothar get back on his feet, things will be much easier. It's a pity that Batu, who was closest to him and should have taken on this responsibility, is now too busy to take care of himself.

Lothar, who was crushed underneath, could not be seen, but the falconer standing by could clearly see that the imps were not entirely acting on their own instincts, and that they all wore metal collars around their necks, and the back of the collars was attached to a leather rope. At this point the ropes were released, and they pounced on the Count like wild dogs. And the hand that used to hold these ropes now holds the bowstring.

It was a centaur. Unlike the centaur who once served as the messenger of the wolf lord, the centaur who stood not far away and looked coldly at Batu was not wearing any clothes, but instead he wore a string of shriveled human heads around his waist as a human part, and a necklace around his neck made of human fingers, ears, and other organs. The centaur was covered in blasphemous tattoos, and even the bow in his hand was made of human vertebrae. Batu had heard of such centaurs, the most wicked and savage of the steppes, who regarded humans as prey and food, and who delved into witchcraft that the spirits would not tolerate.

"Hey!" the cannibal centaur made an indecipherable sound, revealing two rows of sharpened teeth. From top to bottom, from head to toe, his every move made Batu feel sick.

There was nothing to say, the hunter raised his hunting bow and pointed it straight at the throat of his target. But the blasphemous only grinned more exaggeratedly, and out of it stretched out his forked tongue, which trembled like a snake and made a salsa sound. Batuu's hands immediately stiffened, and every joint of his body seemed to turn to stone, and no matter how hard he tried to shoot the arrow in his hand, he didn't move. Visible dark purple veins emerged from the back of his hand and spread towards his arm as if he were alive. Batu felt fear, but he still forced himself to look his opponent in the eye.

The bow made of the spine was slowly raised, and on top of it was an arrow made of human bones, a poisoned arrow. Centaurs are all marksmen, even if this matter falls on the cannibals, the short arrow made of human bones did not make a sound of breaking through the air, only leaving a white light in the air and hitting Batuu's abdomen. The abdomen is not a vital point, because the shot is not a vital point. He wanted his slow, painful, fearful death. Rather than killing its prey quickly, this half-human, half-horse monster is looking forward to seeing the twisted and ugly face of the target before he dies!