Observing through a telescope, Epicurus noticed that there were people in the enemy ranks carrying the banner.

"Is this a small group of the Salem tribe? qualified to play the tribal totem of the Great Clan, and there is at least one of the chief's sons in it. Have all the tribal wars spread to this area..."

......

After taking a sip of the sour mare's milk wine, relieving the fatigue of the long-distance run, Harkonnen felt a burst of joy.

The Great War had swept through the desert for more than a month, and the camps of the Great Army had drained the water of the two oases.

As one of the chief's sons, Harkonan was ordered to lead a banner team of tribal warriors to raid the surrounding caravans to replenish the material consumed by the army.

So, following the orders of the future Mu'adib, the Khan of the Desert Elves, he rode on a six-legged desert horse given by his father, and led his banner team to sweep across the desert like a fire.

"Harkonnam Otto, son of Hajar Otto, the Voice of the Enemy has sought the delicious 'Lamb', use your scimitar to show the bravery of Salem!"

Communicating with Hananke in a strange and deep voice was the elf "Singer" who accompanied the army, his face was like a wrinkled and shriveled almond, and his pale blue eyes without whites of the eyes shone with excitement.

The "Chanter" is a unique caster of the desert elves, who is good at using the art of "sound words". Powerful elven chanters can use the "Sound of Seeking Enemies" to pass through the dry air, cacti, donkey bushes, sandy verbena, xyloma oil bushes...... to distinguish the difference between the caravans, armies, and even herds of beasts hundreds of Palesans away. Silent killings can also be carried out through the Infrasound, shattering tight flesh, hard smokewood, and even metal blades. A little more experienced "Chanter" can also simulate the ability of the war shaman's "Blood Boiling Technique" through the art of sound words, so that the blood flow of your own warriors will be accelerated, and the desire to fight will be greatly enhanced!

"Wise Chanter, please bless the warriors with bloody fighting spirit," although his tone was respectful, Harkonan's eyes were still fixed on the caravan ahead, watching the caravan of slaves and samurai line up.

"Follow your will, son of the Great Chief!" the chanter bowed slightly, and the simple voice naturally covered all the tribal warriors with the answer, and everyone's pale blue eyes spread a trace of bloodshot.

"For the glory of Salem, for the glory of Hajar Khan, charge! charge!"

Harkonnen, who was closest to the singer, was so enthusiastic that he urged the six-legged steed to rush out of the line first, followed by Anda's guard, the chief's son, and followed by the warriors of the tribe.

Every elven warrior is in high spirits, and every horse is fighting to be the first!

......

"All slaves defend in place, hire samurai to drive away their archers, and don't let them rain arrows at will!"

It was the caravan guard commander who had assigned orders to the enemy, and Epicurus knew that he had to trust more professional judgment at this time, his own guard commander had been with him for more than twenty years, and had encountered similar attacks again and again, and was better able to deal with the ensuing battle than himself.

The three ogre brothers, who were standing in the mainstay of the slave front, seemed to have heard the battle roar of the elven chanter due to their excellent hearing, and the fire of the already strong will to fight seemed to be poured with a basin of hot oil.

"Oh Sa, oh Sa, Naru, Blue, Paru, Viodissa!" the ogre witch doctor Palu clenched the troll staff in his hand and prayed for the three brothers in the language of a traditional troll witch doctor, the desire to fight flowed like a potion hidden in the troll skull at the tip of the voodoo staff in his hand.

The shackles that bound the three-headed ogre had been unlocked by the key of the guard samurai before, and at this time, "Blacksmith" Naru seemed to have a good idea, one chain could not be fastened, but three chains could be tightly wound, and the ebony barbed staff became an ebony flail.

"The Ebony Thorn Staff has turned into an Ebony Flail!" shouted excitedly in ogre language as he brandished his newly "created" weapon, the large man Naru and the flail's wide range of weapons, accidentally knocking away several human slaves standing nearby. The people who were hit all had their bodies dented, spitting out fragments of internal organs and flying out in pain, without even screaming, and died directly.

Several caravan guards in charge of overseeing the battle tried to pull out their knives and teach the unbridled monster a lesson, but a sudden sneeze blew them to the ground. "Oh, I'm sorry," Blue said, in a strange accent, in a human voice, "just for a pick-me-up." ”

Ogre gourmets are accustomed to ordering themselves a precious spice seasoning called "pepper" before the battle, well, a pick-me-up. It's just a few sneezes, and after this little problem is overcome, it's not a problem. You can even taste some pepper and spray a few big fireballs during the fight, what a great idea! Blue always has a good idea!

Seeing the sparks spewing out of the ogre's nostrils with a few sneezes at this time, several caravan guards wisely chose to protect themselves and leave them alone.

......

The charge of the desert elves is not in the form of heavy cavalry charges, and if you use an analogy, their combat style is more similar to that of the Mongolian archers on Earth.

They will charge diagonally towards the opponent's battle formation at a certain angle, using the speed of their horses and their sharp shooting skills. Destroy a corner of the enemy formation with a rain of arrows, and if the first wave does not work, the riders will spontaneously let the horses run in a circular formation, and then use bows and arrows to deliver more intensive blows, or switch to another direction to tear open the gap in the opponent's battle formation.

Harkonnen, the son of the chieftain, led the formation at the front, without carrying a single arrow. He was more accustomed to using heavy javelins or throwing spears than bows and arrows, and he carried five javelins with precious metal on his back, which he used to tear through battle formations and then kill heavily armored samurai.

Arrows rained down from the sky like a sandstorm, taking the lives of large swaths of slaves in a corner of the battle array.

The caravan's samurai commander reacted quickly, and a group of mercenary samurai, who had long been ready to go, rode their horses, brandishing weapons such as iris shields and scimitars, while charging from the rear of the line to the elven archers attacking the flanks. Although the number is less than a quarter of the opponent's, the brave blood and skillful martial arts brought by the perennial knife licking blood make up for these shortcomings.

Some of the elven riders were no longer able to concentrate on the rain of arrows, and they all drew their scimitars and entangled with the caravan's mercenary warriors. The caravan's guards then drove the slaves and slave fighters who had been distributed improvised weapons and equipment to cover up.

There was a stalemate on the battlefield, and the shouts of elves and humans, and the neighing of war horses and camels made the scene gradually lose control, and the commander's orders could hardly be heard. Everyone who takes part in the battle, whether elves or human slaves, follows the instinct to survive and kill.

"Die for me!"

Harkonnen was unarmed, pulling a javelin from his back in his left hand and wielding a scythe-bladed sword made of fine iron in his right hand. The scythe sword in the right hand skillfully deflected the shield blocked by the caravan mercenary samurai who had staggered by, and the javelin in the left hand took advantage of the opponent's defenses to quickly plunge into his unprotected throat.