Boiling Beast Bloodline -
Chapter 262 - 47 Unstoppable_2
Chapter 262: Chapter 47 Unstoppable_2
The hair on the heads of the Salt Demons and Green Demons was made to dance by the earth-shattering vibrations of the elephant’s hooves, causing them to open their mouths wide in surprise, staring blankly at the rapidly approaching mammoth elephants.
Living in the coniferous forests at the foot of a snow mountain, the Green Demons were no strangers to the mountain’s mammoths. What confounded them, however, was how these mammoths ended up in the vast plains.
All the bandits fell into a state of confusion and stupefaction. Drowsy bandits suddenly found their pupils dilating to their extremity, their eyes bloodshot. Those who were engaged in lively conversation were left speechless. Their eyes moved with the movement of the mammoth herd, like fish out of water in a desert.
The bandits suddenly felt like tiny pine nuts in the middle of two gigantic pancakes, the herd of mammoths being the pancakes, ready to crush them.
There were no words to describe the shock and horror of the bandits facing the fast-approaching elephant herd. It was like looking up and seeing a meteor crashing towards your forehead.
These impressive mammoth elephants, twice the size of a regular elephant, covered in golden armor, were ridden by wild, yelling Beamon giants.
The long curved tusks reflected the vicissitudes of time. Their colossal feet, sturdy as stone pillars, crushed the prehistoric ice beneath them.
Before the herd could reach them, an indescribable sense of oppression blew over the bandits, sending chills down their spines. The smaller bandits fell to the ground with cramped legs, grimacing as they watched the increasingly large mammoth herd. Dozens of warhorses, too, neighed nervously as they cowered on the ground.
The thunderous sound of hooves became the only theme on the quiet plain. The bandits felt an irresistible sensation, akin to facing an avalanche, a volcano, or a tornado. The charging elephant herd gave them the same feeling.
"Enemy attack!" A Green Demon sentry finally shouted, his voice short-lived and mournful.
The voice abruptly ended, along with everything else related to him, was trampled into pieces by the rampaging mammoth herd.
Like a gust of wind, two groups of mammoths crossed paths.
The fast-running elephants rolled over the bandits in the front and the back of the group. The Salt Armor that the Salt Demons boasted as invincible was proven to be a pathetic joke under the iron hooves of the charging herd.
The Salt Demons were either flung into the air or squashed into the hardened permafrost of the plains by the immense weight of the elephants, turning the well-organized troops into fragments in an instant.
After the initial charge, two groups of mammoth elephants miraculously made a quick turn on the spot. They swapped places and charged in the opposite direction at the off guard bandits, always maintaining an orderly twenty-blade wide formation.
It was a horrific slaughter!
It was like crushing a group of ants with a stone roller. Every footstep the elephants made left a deep pool of blood. The sound of continuous crushing was so painful as to stain the soul.
Bound behind the wagons, the Musketeer slaves watched the scene with wide eyes. Exploded blood splashed all over their bodies, and the color of the sky in their pupils turned into a deep blue.
The most harrowing fruit of the elephant attack was not just the damage by the elephants. On the back of each mammoth was a sturdy spruce pole, with green shoots still growing on the pole’s knots. Musketeers, stripped to the top, handled the poles as if they were holding straws, elegantly and with ease.
The sharp point of each pole had the power to ram through the walls of a city. The bandits couldn’t stand a chance against this raw power. Those who were hit by these poles had their bodies severed in half by the impact, leaving half of them standing in place.
After a momentary trance, the bandits woke from their stupor, shrieking and fleeing. Runners collided with each other, causing an absolute chaos.
These well-trained mammoth elephants immediately divided into four groups, three elephants in each row, sparing no place untouched by the intense turmoil. The twelve mammoths resembled twelve giant logs rolling continuously over the plains.
After a time, the herd of elephants halted their persistent charge. Intense sprinting meant the elephants started to sweat profusely, and their trunks huffed white steam.
The group of over fifteen hundred bandits eventually managed to halt the mammoth’s rushing attack with their bodies. They should be proud, for the force of the twelve mammoth elephants was enough to twist an iron gate into scrap metal!
The once pristine ancient road was now a landfill. The ground was splashed with a different color of dew, thick and sticky, pressing the leaves downwards. The massive footprints gathered a considerable layer of fluid and emitted a considerable amount of heat in the cold desert air.
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