Ufric pulled out the sword of Torgard behind his back, held the hilt of the sword with both hands, he twisted his neck greatly in his movements, and then licked the corners of his mouth and showed a lewd smile at Moras: "I know that you dark elves like to fuck, especially you, Moras, there is no doubt that you are the most famous fucking slut among the elves, let's say, how many times have you played with Marekis?" Tsk, oh my God, it's exciting to think about, we Norskas don't have such a good time, at least not to attack our own mother. ”

As soon as these words came out, the audience was silent.

There used to be some bad secrets between Morath and the witch king Marekis, the kind of little story that Slaanesh kneels down to beg for resources after listening to it.

Even if these rumors have never been confirmed definitively, due to the sensitive relationship and lofty status of the two, the rumors have never been cut off, and with the efforts of the enemies and the melon-eating masses, the version of the story is also changing, and its speed is like bubbles in soda, endlessly.

It is important to know that these hot topics are taboo for Truzi, and no one in Nagaros dares to put them on the table unless this person wants to be chopped to pieces and thrown into the cauldron of blood by the witch who comes to the door later.

Even on the island of Osun, there is little mention of it.

After all, Kane's assassins are everywhere, and maybe if you talk nonsense to your friends today, someone will find a cold corpse on a street corner in the middle of the night.

The entire Middle Ages, daring to sarcastically mock her and the witch king Marekis in front of Moras, Ulfric was still the first.

The atmosphere was awkward for a while, so embarrassed that Hemmer wanted to flee the scene.

After a moment of silence, Morath sounded like thin ice that had broken through the air: "You'd better cherish that mouth, because I'll tear it to shreds in no time." ”

Ufric patted his lips and smiled sheepishly at Moras, "Come on, I'll take you to a new level with this mouth, something you can't experience with your son." Seriously, Morath, I've got a good job, I promise my thing can be used as a belt. You're going to get hooked on that feeling. ”

As long as it is a creature that can breathe, it can't stand the foul language of the North Yankee, Morath is obviously moved by the wrath of thunder, and the power of the wind of death magic condensed in his left hand immediately reached out, and the thick tentacles as thick as ink pounced on Ufrik, and then turned into several strange giant skulls to envelop the worldwalker in it.

The rich aura of death rushed to his face, making the hearts of Hemer and the others throb.

Even if he was as calm as Esarion, he couldn't help frowning at this moment, and his usually thin pupils showed a little jealousy.

As one of the world's top mages, no one can ignore Moras's immense power.

The Soul Eater technique she unleashed casually was already worth the countless hours that most death mages spent studying it.

But Ufric was not afraid, his soul would have been cursed by the gods, and once defeated, he would never be able to enter the temple of terror.

So he was determined to win every battle.

"The bloodthirsty god is watching! Do it, brothers! Chop down these bunnies like a pure master! Ulfric picked up the legendary sword of Tolgard and let out a wild battle cry, his burly form dashing like the cold wind of the North.

A warrior's ultimate mindset is to treat death as nothing, and the curse of defeat keeps Ufrak moving forward.

He smashes through the power of death with his flesh and blood, and gets close to Morath to engage in melee combat.

Although Aunt Mo is a top-notch mage, her melee martial arts are also at the peak, summoning the Heartbreaker and the Dark Sword at will, and easily repelling Uffric's desperate charge with the surging chaos power of the waves.

Hemmer was directly shocked, "Sure enough, a mage who can't fight in close combat is not a good mage..."

Maybe it's not a bad thing for him to join the Joy Sect, at least before the final moment comes, with the powerful Aunt Mo on his side, as long as he doesn't do too much, there will be no danger of destruction.

"The Empress is mighty!!"

Aunt Mo, thousands of generations, unify the Middle Ages!

The excited Hemmer hurriedly took the opportunity to show his loyalty, took the purple Pegasus battle flag from the hands of the Calamity Song sisters on the side, and shouted loudly, cheering for Morath, intending to be a qualified cheerleader.

The corners of Aisarion's and Tal-Geivo knights twitched slightly in disgust as Hemmer hugged his thighs undisciplinedly.

Meanwhile, the Sully Marauders and the Norsca Ice Wolves, who had followed Ulfric's arrival, rushed out of the Sea Fang and fought Hemmer and the Calamity Sisters.

In terms of numbers, the elite Disaster Song Sisters are basically the same as the Northern Yankees, but the combat effectiveness of the two is not at the same level.

The witches who can become the sisters of the Calamity Song are all butchers, slaughtering countless lives, drinking the blood of their enemies, and singing screams and anguish with their souls, and their exquisite killing skills are the best praise for Kane.

Even though the wildest marauding warriors in the north were also caught in a bitter battle as soon as they came into contact with the Sisters of Calamity, the Northern Guys still fought tenaciously and regarded death as home.

Oufrick's closest friend, Sigwart, with a killing tomahawk in his hand, broke through the siege of several Disaster Song sisters, and collided head-on with Sagar, the chief death witch under Moras, and the two met without nonsense to invite blood.

A scuffle breaks out between Worldwalker and the Cult of Pleasure, and the people of Ires are marginalized.

Both sides of the war are enemies, and the knights of Tal-Gevo are caught between the two sides for a while, and they are helping no one.

"What are we going to do now, Lord Watcher?"

The chief knight, Leon, harnessed the griffin and came to Aisarion's side and asked respectfully.

Esarion watched the bloody battle and remained silent.

In fact, at the moment, he wanted to help Moras.

After all, in his opinion, chaos is coming, and the civil war between elves is no longer the primary contradiction.

The reason why he did not give the order was because Aisarion had his own concerns.

Even if Irees' relationship with many High Elf kingdoms is severed, it is still the kingdom of Asur, and it is inherently opposed to Truzzi.

The court conspiracy of the Azul is a bloodless battlefield.

If he sets a precedent here, helps Moras, and returns to Osune, it is inevitable that his political opponents will take advantage of the opportunity.

To help or not to help?

The situation on the battlefield was changing rapidly, and he obviously didn't give himself much time to think about it, so Esarion clenched his sword and quickly analyzed the pros and cons of this move.

"Uncle, don't look at it, come and help!"

Interrupted from his thoughts, Esarion looked in the direction from which the voice had come and saw Hemmer, besieged by several ice wolves.

Hemmer slapped a pounced ice wolf away with a sword, and at the same time yelled at Aisarion, who was frozen in place, "Help me, uncle, save me!" ”

Hearing that Hemmer actually called himself an uncle, Ai Chan instantly became angry.

If it weren't for the Chaos Warriors, he would have wanted to beat Hemer to a beating!

"Esarion."

Just when Ai Chan was unstoppable, a soft voice like heaven suddenly sounded in his ears.

It was a voice he had heard in countless times of distress and had saved his life.

"Goddess."

Radlily's engraved gentle words extinguished the fire in Ai-chan's heart like a fountain of ice, and he responded respectfully to the call of the goddess in his heart.

"Lead my devout followers to destroy all Chaos believers in front of me, in the name of Radlily, the god of mist."

Having received instructions from the gods, Esarion no longer had any scruples.

"Understood, Goddess."

On Stormwing's back, Aisarion turned his head to the knights of Tal-Gaivo who were standing by beside him, giving a decisive order to help the Cult of Pleasure fight against Ufrik and his men.

The eight knights, all of whom were Aitharion's henchmen, never questioned the watcher's orders, and immediately gripped their spears and swords, and drove the seated griffons into the air to launch a deadly air attack on the Sally marauders.

With a long cold face, Aisarion easily slashed a few ice wolves, and before Hemmer could thank him, he and Stormwings rose into the air and rushed towards the center of the battlefield, leaving the latter with a handsome back.

"Tsundere, huh." Hemmer smiled heavily, Aisarion was willing to help him, which proved that he didn't have to kill himself.

It is still possible for his relationship with Aurelia to be approved by him.

Thinking of this, Hemmer shouted to Esarion in the sky, "Thank you, uncle! ”

Ai-chan almost vomited out a mouthful of old blood.

That's it, that's it. This is all the order of the goddess, so I don't want to help him. Without looking back, Esarion slew towards the place where the North Yankees had the most.

On the other side, the furious Ulfric was trapped three inches by Moras's barrier of death magic, unable to break out of the invisible cage.

"Pathetic beast. You and your savage men are going to die here today. Lay down your arms and surrender at my feet, so that the gods of chaos will not be disappointed in you. Moras's red lips were slightly hooked, and she looked like she was winning.

"Fuck your mother, even if your people are thicker than the leaves of the forest and more pebbles than the streams, they are not worth mentioning in front of us Northlanders. If your civilization is to bring me to my knees, then I will show you my savage pride. I can lose my body and my life, but I will never grovel! ”

"Fight or die! There is no mercy! ”

Ulfric's bloodshot eyes glared at the Warlock Empress of Gorond, he threw his head back and roared, his arm muscles bulging in chunks, and the cloth-wrapped Torgaard sword in his hand burst with a brilliant light that broke through the barrier of chaos that bound him, and then rushed towards Moras like a giant bear with a strong wind.

"Dying, stupid."

Morath smiled contemptuously.

Since it can't be used by her, let's die.

Morath unhurriedly withdrew the Heartbreaker and the Dark Sword, and the Radiant wand was once again firmly held in her right hand.

She raised her wand high into the air, a cloud of chaotic force running down her hand to the gem at the end of the handle.

Then she took a step forward and slammed her wand into the ground.

In an instant, a shattering stabbing sound swept through the entire Osune offshore, and half of the eardrums of the Sally Marauders were shattered by the cry, gushing blood.

In front of Uffric, the world seemed to have been torn open by a crack, revealing a rich rosy red above the endless void and a blue cast of frost below.

Immediately afterward, the rift in the world spread in all directions, and the dazzling glare centered on Ufrik himself unfolded in all directions, covering everything in his vision at an astonishing speed.

Morath unleashed a top-level death-based magic, the Abyss of Darkness, which directly tore through the space and created a vortex leading to hell.

Many of the North Yankees and Truszi in the Great War were sucked in before they had time to react.

Hemmer was a little farther away, and was fine, but a Sully marauder grabbed at his shoulder armor and dragged him into the abyss.

At the moment of crisis, Esarion returned, slicing off the marauder's arm with a single sword, dragging Hemer from the brink of death to the Wings of the Storm.