Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 263 - 47: Irresistible_3

Under such an attack, the majority of the surviving robbers chose to flee, the sight of their companions trampled into muddy pulp shattering their morale.

There were a few who mustered the courage to brandish their weapons and charge. But the mammoth’s long trunk swept past them like a colossal club, those valiant robbers spewing blood as they were sent flying.

The three shaman wizards from the Green Demon Tribe, due to their frail physiques, were seated on a carriage. They experienced the terrifying onslaught firsthand, bearing witness to the bloody slaughter, their hands unable to raise any spells with their staves.

Bimon warriors also rushed from the top of the wasteland hillock. Their huge yet nimble bodies, the lead warrior - a blond Piegel, bald and exposing his tightly coiled Muscles. He brandished a terrifying giant Wolf Fang Club. His charge was no less formidable than that of a mammoth. Fleeing robbers were smashed into shattered carcasses under his assault. The Salt Demon’s salt shells were detonating, shards of salt and flesh exploding under his attack. Wherever the Wolf Fang Club went, nothing remained intact. A giant tree marmot with a large belly was standing on his shoulder, holding a chubby pigling. The continuous water arrows sprayed from the pigling’s mouth were driving the robbers to chaotic motions. The sight was too dreadful to witness. Behind the powerful Piegel were four Bimons with green skins. They leapt agilely, their serrated twin blades like lightning cutting through the night sky, leaving behind showers of blood.

From the wasteland slope on the right charged a giant tree marmot running like a penguin. The Pier knight on its back had entered Berserk mode, his iron ax and the tree marmot’s twelve-inch steel claws blended into a bloody aura. This left no chance for the Bimon warriors running behind him to attack.

Like two sharp swords, they penetrated the Primitive Ancient Road, these two groups of Bimon warriors did not bother about other fleeing robbers. They knocked down the mentally shattered robbers and wounded soldiers around them in two or three strokes, passed a circular formation, and, together with twelve mammoths, slowly approached the last group of surviving robbers near the carriage.

One by one, dark tall figures, like ospreys hunting in the water, started jumping off the backs of the mammoths. The remaining Green Demons and Salt Demons were all forced back to the perimeter of the carriage, where a large group of shivering Musketeer slaves huddled.

The horses pulling the carriage had already collapsed frothing at the mouth. The robbers’ legs were trembling violently.

The faces of three Green Demon shamans were splattered with blood and entrails. One young Green Demon Shaman could no longer withstand the terrifying stimulation and slumped to the ground.

The remaining two shaman wizards’ face skin, stretched over bone, trembled in the wind, their green skin turned pale, their staves creaking in their clasp.

The surrounding weak moans and agonized cries could not rouse their sense of responsibility as shaman wizards.

"Leave not even a single hair behind!" A howl echoed, and the brutal massacre took on a new form, unfolding once again in the wilderness.

If what had just transpired was a nightmare, what was happening now was a disaster.

Robbers still in a daze didn’t have time to pull their fleeing spirits back. Dark coated weapons, accompanied by formidable figures, came calling. An ivory saber ripped through the air with a piercing shriek, each strike reducing a group of men to shadows. After a couple of strikes, an ivory saber would become useless, broken into pieces.

The whistling spear, the crushing mace, the earth-shaking cudgel, all knocked down the robbers who had lost their will to fight, just like sheaves of wheat.

Two awakened shamans knew that without a fight they would die and began to cast Bloodlust spells with trembling staves. The red glow of bloodlust flashed. Robbers’ hair stood on end, fangs extended beyond their lips, they launched a desperate counterattack. Though they were mercilessly cut down, they no longer hesitated and kept rushing forward, fighting like cornered animals.

If the robbers were rocks, then their opponents were mountains. In contrast with the robbers’ chaotic and amateurish counterattack, the Bimon warriors were clearly arranged, with the strongest mammoth powerlifters and hippopotamus poets in the front, and panda warriors who occasionally threw spears in the back. Mastiff Warriors also picked up stones, human spears, logs from the Ancient Road and, the whole lot, hurled them into the pile of robbers.

Guoguo, standing on Liu Zhenhuan’s shoulder, desperately patted the little piglet’s buttocks. Unfortunately, Katusha sprayed all her magic power in the charge, forming a circle of continuous water arrows. Although powerful, its duration was short. If used in this current encirclement, a lot of effort could indeed be saved.

Even without a lethal killer, the robbers’ situation was still at its worst. The Bimon warriors’ encircling groups were like a flesh grinder, any robber approaching would immediately be cut down to the dust. If they didn’t charge, the lethal spears and the Mastiff Warriors’ random projectiles would still claim lives.

The boasted Salt Armor of Salt demons and the human armor donned by Green demons offered no protection against the weapons of Bimon’s warriors. The Bimon warriors’ formidable power ensured that any weapon in their hands were more lethal than a meteor hammer. In a situation like this, even a heavily armed human infantry would only have their insides shattered, let alone robbers. Under the guidance of the two smart shamans, the robbers also threw their weapons for ranged attacks, copying the tactics of the warriors. Even though some occasionally hit the opponents’ armor, except for sparking a handful of sparks and revealing the vine armor underneath, it had no other effects.