Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 261 - 47 Unstoppable_1

Chapter 261: Chapter 47 Unstoppable_1

The robbers formed a long serpentine line as they traversed the ancient, barbaric path, led by the sharp-sighted Green Demons. Their skin had naturally taken on the withered yellow hue of the sprawling grassy plains they travelled through. The Salt Demons, their skin resembling moving rocks, fell in at the rear.

At the center of the procession were Musketeer slaves to serve as food, five carriages laden with spoils of war, and about twenty captive war horses.

The barren hills were a distinct feature in the Donau Wasteland. As the Green and Salt Demon robbers traversed the ancient path flanked by two barren hills, they couldn’t help but break into cheers at the sight of the Troll Barren Hills - imposing like towering skulls.

They inhaled the fresh yet cold air, forcing their eyes open to gaze at the magnificent Razor Mountain revealed by the morning sun from behind the barren hills, towering into the clouds and bathed in a golden halo, resembling the mythical mountain of the Gods.

The Salt Demons and the Green Demons, having now reached the end of their long journey, yearned for nothing more than to curl up with their newly acquired loot for a good night’s sleep.

Despite their impressive physical stamina, the arduous journey had left the robbers fatigued and on the verge of falling asleep.

As the sound of thunderous hoofbeats echoed from the barren hills on both sides, Vanni, the Green Demon leader, was atop a sturdy warhorse, savoring Snakeberry Preserves, while the Salt Demon leader, Yongberi, trudged behind his horse. Yongberi, too, would have preferred to parade his stature on horseback, but alas, his heavy frame would break the horse’s back. After several attempts, he finally chose to proceed on foot.

The slightly acidic Snakeberry Preserves didn’t quite appeal to the Green Demons and the Salt Demons, but Vanni and Yongberi delighted in them. They scooped it out with their fingers, covered in red juice that resembled blood.

It wasn’t so much the taste of human food as it was the status and taste it represented — nobility.

This mindset wasn’t exclusive to the wasteland robbers but was shared by Dwarves and most Beamons.

The two leaders had planned to flaunt the red stains on their lips from the preserved fruit to the fellow robbers at Razor Mountain.

The sprawling wasteland made it impossible to see the source of the sudden hoofbeats, mystifying the Green and Salt Demons.

"Could it be the seasonal reindeer from the wasteland?" Vanni speculated.

All the robbers knew that the foot of the snow-capped mountain, occupied by the Goblin tribe, was the only accessible pass to Tanggula Peak within hundreds of miles. The Razor Mountain, backed by this passage, facilitated both attacks and retreats onto the snowy mountains or into the forest. Such strategic positioning was indeed fortuitous.

Moreover, annually during winter, large herds of snow mountain reindeer would descend to the wasteland to breed and forage, unable to reach their favorite roots and plants under the thick, frozen snow at Tanggula Peak. They would wait for the spring thaw before returning to the lofty mountains.

Seasonally hunting these reindeers for meat was enough to sustain the Goblin tribe at Razor Mountain. They were the only ones with surplus food to rear giant creatures like Earth Badgers.

The mention of reindeers had salivated the Green Demon robbers — they could occasionally capture a reindeer in the pine woods. These animals were cunning and timid, bolting at the slightest commotion, but their meat was exceptionally savory.

The morning mist suddenly scattered as though hit by a massive impact.

The preserved fruit in the hands of the two bandit leaders dropped to the ground along with the pot they were holding.

The horde of creatures bursting forth from the barren hills was nothing like a herd of deer — it was rows of mammoth long-haired elephants! Their bodies mostly covered by gold-plated armor, the swinging long fur underneath shimmered with primordial strength and vigor.

A group of Beamon warriors holding weapons had silently positioned themselves on the Barren Hills. The armor on their imposing bodies glittered under the morning sun like golden angels. The wind sweeping across the wasteland transformed into ancient desolation. These formidable warriors seemed like something out of a myth from the God-demon wars!

The robbers had no time for further speculation. No sooner had the elephants awkwardly ascended the barren hills than their clumsiness melted away into brisk, and then increasingly faster strides. Forming walls of flesh twenty blades long on both sides, they charged towards the robbers, heads lowered in rapid, synchronized steps, shaking the ground with a grief might, as if attracted by a banquet of bananas laid out on the ancient path.

The massive charging force of the two herds sent sprays of dew scattering off the grass. The earth shuddered under their thunderous hooves.