Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 356 - 77 Fire! Fire! Fire!_2

Chapter 356: Chapter 77 Fire! Fire! Fire!_2

What rankled the bowmen who were using the armor-piercing arrows, was that these Beamon warriors not only loved to rush into dense crowds, but they would also roll on the ground whenever a bowstring twanged. They were as wily as could be. In the onslaught of arrows, aside from Piegel swinging his Wolf Fang Club in a counter-charge, the other Orephin warriors, counter to their Beamon way of fighting, craftily turned around, dragging their Birdwing Crossbow Car and quickly retreated from the stairs, skidding towards their cavern.

The battle between the Beamon and humans at Heigar a thousand years ago still remains a classic textbook case at prestigious military academies of various empires. Although Beamon warriors were fierce, they lacked discipline, easily becoming surrounded and systematically destroyed when they got carried away -- this was unanimously recognized by academies as the reason why the orcs lost in the battle of Heigar.

Count Totti’s face turned purple with rage. These Beamon were actually able to withdraw from the battlefield as they pleased, as if his fists were pounding futilely on a pile of cotton.

In a group of Orephin warriors, one burly figure used the Birdwing Crossbow Car as a makeshift shawl and nonchalantly covered the retreat of the other elephant warriors, jiggling their large buttocks as they slipped back into the cavern. The echoing "thump thump" sounds were incessant. The heavy armor-piercing arrows were no match for this massive bronze crossbow over five thousand pounds in weight.

The complexions of the two mages also paled, these Beamon facing hundreds of times more enemies, not only were not afraid, but even engaged twice in the attack, leaving the two mages embarrassed. However, they had to admit these Beamon were quite crafty, deliberately targeting crowded areas and shifting constantly, putting the two great mages somewhat at a disadvantage.

The Count hastily stopped the two masters from their urge to use high-level magic power.

"There’s no need for both of you to waste your precious magic power. This lone Piegel is definitely doomed," Count Totti confidently announced.

Before the Count finished speaking, a line of mercenaries on the stairs from left to right were struck by the Wolf Fang Club, several silhouettes were knocked into the air, fell off from the stairs into the spears. The muffled "pluck pluck" sound echoed, like fried fish on a skewer roasting under the sun.

The intense battle suddenly ceased.

The mercenaries stuck halfway up the stairs numbered at most about ten, all were Great Swordsmen.

Many lancers had sweaty palms, swallowing hard with anxiety. They were also wondering whether the dragon spear plus shield could withstand this domineering Piegel warrior.

Liu Zhenhan, wielding the Wolf Fang Club, slowly descended the stairs. His formidable presence made every mercenary shudder. His strong body, bathed in blood, shimmered under the sun; his eyes were like a dagger drawn slowly from its sheath in the darkness, its chilling edge flickering with a desire to seize lives.

The mercenaries felt as if they were a group of moths facing an oil lamp aflame.

When met with Piegel’s gaze, everyone felt a chill down their neck – like a heavy sword resting on their throat.

The Great Swordsmen had run out of room to retreat, their Viking greatswords as heavy as Mount Tamerlarya.

In his hand, Liu Zhenhan waved the Wolf Fang Club, and the Great Swordsmen scrambled up the stairs and hopped down one after another.

There was some commotion among the dragon spear phalanx, but it quickly subsided.

In the raged Captain’s roar, bowmen who had regained their senses immediately remembered their duties. Innumerable arrows were shot at the sole Beamon haphazardly.

No more room to hide, the arrows buzzed around like a swarm of starving locusts, aiming for the solitary Piegel with a bloodthirsty grin.

Facing this terrifying scene, even Piegel could only shield his face with the Wolf Fang Club helplessly. In three breaths’ time, Piegel had turned into a Hedgehog covered with arrows, his Wolf Fang Club clanged as it fell from his hands. His dark eyes still flashed with an untamed spirit as he collapsed, rolling down the stairs.

First, a deathly silence.

All at once, the mercenaries cheered in unison. Every heart was filled with the exhilaration of a last-minute reprieve from execution.

Seeing this Piegel, resembling a Hedgehog with arrows sticking out all over his body, finally fall, Captain Jennifer drew several breaths of fresh air in rapid succession.

Count Totti shook his head.

Beamon will always be Beamon, even if a few became crafty, there were still fools. The slave hunting team had just installed a few bed crossbows and small catapults, but it seemed that there was no need for them.

The Count couldn’t help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction as he watched the bravado from his vantage point. What’s the use of even the fiercest Beamon warrior in the face of human intelligence and multiple army types?

The thrill of assassinating a strong warrior filled Count’s chest, it was a wonderful feeling.

The two mages looked at each other and smiled. Praising the Count for his brilliance didn’t cost them anything anyway, so they lavished it upon the Count, who wore an "everything is under control" expression.

"Continue to charge me! I want to take down those Orephin’s tusks as decoration!" Captain Jennifer continued to roar hoarsely.

The poor Captain was seeing red. She had completely forgotten the mission Count had given her. The matter regarding the Ancient Firegun also slipped her mind.