The flag team brought by Hananke was not ordinary herdsmen, they were all elite warriors selected by the tribe through hunting rituals.

On the other hand, the caravan guards and mercenary warriors of Epicurus mostly relied on their personal bravery and martial arts to fight, and were obviously much weaker in terms of cooperation.

Often, at the slightest slackness of their own, the patient elven warriors would plunge their scimitars made of obsidian into their bodies.

"Send a message to those three-headed monsters and tell them to stop those damned elven riders from damaging my property......! Give each of them a chainmail vest as payment!"

Epicurus glared and shouted at the caravan warrior of his cronies in a roaring voice, three chain mail vests, a lot of money that made him a little painful. However, he was not allowed to pay these rewards, the situation of the battle was already very critical, and what was even more terrifying was that the slave goods that were supposed to be sent to the dragon's lair for "tribute" in exchange for rewards were lost in such a short time.

"One-fifth, no, almost a quarter of the losses, plus three chainmail vests.

Premium, this time it must be premium!"

The three ogre brothers who received the message were the happiest Naru, who took being a "blacksmith" as his ideal and always had the strength. Of course he knew what chain mail was, it was an expensive armor made of fine metal rings nested one ring after another, and the rewards in the Colosseum did not have such high-end goods, and he himself did not know this craft, and he could not learn the art of weaving such delicate things just by telling others. Maybe Bluen can learn it, and Palu can, but neither of them likes to strike iron.

"The stingy little man has finally learned to be generous once, and even Naru knows that it is better to spend money than to shed blood. ”

The three ogre brothers were in the middle of the caravan battle formation, and the battle would not spread here for a while, and the big man Naru excitedly waved his newly made ebony flail and rushed directly at the knights and slave infantry who were glued together, not caring about the friendly queue being shattered by him.

"Roar, the chain mail is yours...... You slow down. Blue and Palu saw that Naru had already charged, and had to follow closely behind, trotting all the way to catch up with the big man's charge.

The elven rider, who was fighting wantonly, slashing and striking the newly armed slaves with his scimitar and shield, heard a roar as loud as an ogre burping in the distance behind him, and a tremendous force that could not be controlled was transmitted directly to himself and the desert steed below him through a chain that fell from the sky.

The tall steed was sent flying with the rider, rolling and knocking down a rider before he stopped, and in his last consciousness, the elven rider saw an ogre fall from a great height and slam into the place where he had just been, the huge weight caused the sand to sink, and the ogre sank into the sand with the depth of a normal elven calf, but this depth only covered the ankle of this terrifying monster.

"There really are ogres," were the last words left by the rider.

The stalemate between his own front and the elven cavalry hindered Naru, and when he got up in a hurry, he picked up his weapon and threw it, and then his thick thighs and calves simultaneously directly crossed the crowded men and horses, and crossed most of the battlefield from mid-air. Although some elven warriors wanted to swing their swords into the air, the obsidian blade could not cut through the ogre's tough nodulous skin, not to mention that the ogre's strong man was wearing his own armor armor.

Gently soothing the numb foot that had been tingling when he landed, and picked up the ebony flail inserted in the body of a desert horse.

The smell of fresh blood stimulated the ogre's hunting instincts, and Naru tore a skinned rib from the newly killed war horse, and while putting it in his mouth to chew and swallow, he quickly pinpointed the place where the hostile "little people" were concentrated.

Wielding the ebony flail, find the right direction to align the bump angles on your body.

Running, the tall and thin man is knocked away, and if he keeps running, the elf man continues to be knocked away.

Even the elven rider standing on the horse with a stirrup standing on the horse is only the waist height of this monster that can be regarded as a large monster in the ogre race. If the difference between the two is twice the height, then the difference in weight is four times.

No, there is definitely more than that! The blood and internal organs vomited by the horses and riders who were knocked out can testify.

The swinging flail was not easy at first, but Naru slowly got the hang of it: keep the chains spinning, whip them at a distance, and greet those who were close with the heavy cane of ebony thorns.

A strong ogre, unbeatable for a while.

"Barbarossa, you deal with this ogre! The warriors of the tribe use the ropes of the lassoe to hold this monster down!"

The Chief's Son has a wealth of combat experience, and has encountered similar situations in battles with giant monsters in the past. So he directly called out the name of the tribe's "chanter", and asked him to use the art of yin and speech to deal with this kind of opponent who was not invincible by brute force, and let the tribe's warriors use the means of containment to harass him.

And he himself has to seize the opportunity to make a final decision in the time that the tribe's chant drags the opponent.

"No matter how strong and powerful the opponent's arms and torsos are, the throat and heart are always the weak points in their body. ”

Whispering in Elven language the hunting skills his father had taught him since childhood, Harkonnen stopped himself from seeing the evil monsters that wreaked havoc among the ordinary samurai of the tribe.

The chief's son's pale blue eyes gleamed in the blazing rays of the morning sun, and his gaze was firmly fixed on the caravan escort warriors who had been moving unexpectedly on the sand dunes behind the slave camp.

"The throat and the heart were discovered. Hmph, cowardly human," Harkonnen raised his right hand, his scythe sword spinning in circles in the air, summoning the Anda warriors who were always on the lookout for his safety.

Feeling that it was almost enough, the tip of the sword slammed down, slashing through the air and the throat of a sneak attacker, pointing at the small group of warriors gathered on the rocks on the back side of the dune: "I, the son of Hajir Otto, Harkonnam Otto leads the Anda warriors, ready to launch a decisive charge!"

This is the tradition of the Salem Rangers, led by the most honorable men, to launch an attack on the enemy without flinching, dodging, and fighting to the death.

Encouraged by Harkonang, his Anda warriors couldn't help but shout, "For Harkonnam Otto!" while tightening their stirrups to make their horses run faster so that they could keep up with the nobleman's charge.

The horses in the desert are slender, explosive, and have wide hooves that can run on the sand without sinking in, leaving only the dust of the sand scattered behind the tail of the horse.

The six-legged war horse piloted by Harkonan has the blood of the ancient elf's combat partner, the six-legged horned beast, and after the first charge, it is still in good spirits after fighting for so long, running at the front of the team, and the horse is extraordinary.

Six feet are faster than four, and four feet are faster than two.

The caravan guards and mercenary warriors rode their horses but were caught up in the battle with the elven warriors, and the other slaves and fighters had no mounts and could not stop the elven cavalry who were making a desperate charge.

The ogre Naru, who had been spreading fear among the elves and slaves, was in trouble, and the tall, thin elven "little man", who had been vulnerable to him, suddenly became cunning, constantly throwing hunting nets and lassoes to bind the horses on his body.

Although he didn't succeed in trapping himself for a while, someone had already put on his ebony shackles, and Nalu really took some effort to keep the hanging weapon from being "stolen". If you want to rush out again, as soon as you get close to the "little people" who throw the lasso, they will scatter, and as long as you stop, they will come out of nowhere and continue to harass you.

And Naru's battle instincts told him that there was a dangerous creature hidden in these "little people" who could even be seriously injured if not careful. This belongs to the ogre's wild instinct, which has been proven correct countless times in the wasteland and in the Colosseum.

"You need to be together with Palu and Blue," the blacksmith ogre Naru has excellent eyesight, the ogre is already tall, and these elven warriors and slave fighters who are fighting together can't stop the figure of their two brothers.

But just as he saw his two brothers, ready to step towards the meeting, a voice suddenly rose beside him.

"Zha!"

At first, the voice was not loud, but then the voice was actually amplified several times in his ears, and the body of Nalu, who had not felt tired since the beginning of the battle, suddenly staggered, his brain was dizzy, and there were even some signs of not being able to stand.

"Hmph, Osaviotissa," the ogre's troll staff blocked the elven chanter Barbarossa's gorm thorn from stabbing at Naru, and the shaking troll's skull erupted a thick green gas that resembled the rotting smell of plants and animals found in an old swamp.

The gases seemed to be controlled by the voodoo spells chanted by the ogre witch doctor, and the breeze was hard to blow away, and the green gas gathered on its own accord around the elven chanters who were attacking Naru.

"It's not good, it may be poisonous, you can't use the art of words," Barbarossa, who was shrouded in foul gases, feared that the poison would hurt his throat, so he didn't dare to speak rashly, and used the technique of words to dispel the gas that enveloped him.

He had no choice but to hold his breath tightly and hide behind the samurai around him, hoping to solve his problems in a slightly safer place.

"I'm sorry, I'm going to sneeze," Barbarossa, who rushed to the side of the samurai, was hit on the chin by a fist that suddenly appeared from the invisibility technique, his teeth burst and his body flew high, and at the same time, he heard the last voice of his life: "Ahhh......h

With a sneeze, a burst fireball the size of half a Barbarossa struck him, and the green foul-smelling gas was a gas that could easily deflagrate, greatly enhancing the power of the flames.

The figures of the two ogres, who were still in the distance just now, suddenly shattered and disappeared like bubbles.

Simulacrum, invisibility, and fireblast, Ogre Blue, who wants to be a gourmet, is also a gifted ogre.

Who says a gourmet, who wants to be a cook, is not a good warlock?