Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 357 - 77 Fire! Fire! Fire!_3

Chapter 357: Chapter 77 Fire! Fire! Fire!_3

The mercenaries, whose morale was now sky-high, stepped over the strewn bodies and slick blood and charged up the steps. The phalanx of heavily armored dragon spears paved the way with the archers right behind them. After their engagement with Piegel, the mercenaries had grown to love these heavy dragon spears. After the initial chaos, the mercenaries were completely composed, ready to wipe out the remaining Orephin knights in the same way.

The robust "Dorott’s Song" sounded.

"Dragon knight under the dawn, roam~ Unmatched Donau plains~ Mercenary kingdom, elite army majestic~ Confederation of people all peaceful~ Filled with glory, oh, Dorott!"

"Go on, do what you have to do next." The Earl smiled at the surrounding officers who were watching the battle.

The Fairy Dragon watching from above couldn’t believe it. Was Richard really dead? Just like that? So easily?

The mercenaries of "Metal Rose" hated Piegel. He had killed at least fifty to sixty of their comrades during the two waves of attacks. As the dragon spear infantry stepped onto the higher steps and completely sealed the entrance with spears, suppressing any chance of the Orephin knights’ counterattack, two ruthless great swordsmen pulled Piegel, who had been shot like a hedgehog, off the steps. They dragged him by his feet to the carriage loaded with weapons and equipment, ready to vent their fury.

Under the threatening gaze of Piegel, they had embarrassingly jumped from the passage, losing face, and now they wanted to regain their dignity.

Piegel’s heavy body dragged a long blood trail on the ground. The two great swordsmen strained to drag him and called the coachman to drag the scythe over from a distance, preparing to cut Piegel into pieces.

After turning Piegel over and just touching the buckles on his armor, the malicious and distorted faces of the two executioners suddenly changed into another expression — just like humans who were terrified by the sudden sight of a corpse grinning at them.

At this time, everyone else’s attention was either focused on the bloody battle about to start at the large entrance at the top of the steps or preparing to cross the river. Nobody noticed the faint sound of several necks being twisted and broken.

The Earl’s crossbow and catapult were also pushed to the bottom of the steps. A scholarly man in a long robe was drawing geometric patterns on the ground with twigs. This was Archimedes, a scholar the Shalba family had summoned from the Chesang Continent at a high price. He could draw extraordinary geometric patterns with compasses and rulers, calculating precise shooting parameters to make the crossbows and catapults hit the mark every time.

At this moment, it seemed that everyone’s blood boiled due to the victory they could almost taste.

Only the coachman dragging the scythe was an exception. He was trembling all over. Bing pierced all over by arrows, Piegel laid comfortably on the ground, with two mercenaries sprawled beside him, their necks twisted at odd angles.

The coachman wasn’t hallucinating. He saw Piegel break the necks of two tall and strong mercenaries with his fingers. The coachman had heard the crisp sound of the spinal cord breaking.

After rummaging in his bosom for a while, Piegel finally took out a huge cigar and beckoned the coachman.

"Brother, lend me a light." Piegel waved his pinkie at the trembling coachman.

The coachman was shaking all over. He took out a piece of flint and handed it over. His teeth clattered nonstop.

Piegel grabbed the handle of the scythe with his left hand and twisted it. With a "Crunch," he pulled the large scythe off the knob, reached for the flint, struck it against the scythe, and lit the large cigar.

The coachman’s eyes bulged wide open and he fell to the ground like a wooden stake.

Captain Jennifer and the Earl were on their horses, heading towards the river when the fierce screams of a melee fight drew their gaze back. A figure brandishing a large scythe plunged into the crowd on the steps like the wind. The unfortunate scholar from Chesang, who was stroking his beard and drawing geometric patterns, was the first to fall. The Earl watched in disbelief as the scholar’s head, full of wisdom, was sent flying into the sky by a cheap scythe.

No words could describe the mercenaries’ panic. From the operators handling the crossbow and the catapult, to the archers in the back row on the steps were all hacked through by a big scythe.

The nightmare replayed itself. Piegel, covered in feathered arrows, swung the coarse and unwieldy large scythe, chopping down countless expensive weapons along with their owners. The heavy scythe whirled around in his hands like a lightweight sewing needle.

This attack from the rear was without blocks and impediments, especially suitable for Piegel’s wild hacking style.

Death alley! It was undoubtedly a death alley!

The army that was about to retreat was stunned and terrified, watching Piegel carve his way with his scythe.

"He must be wearing more than one layer of armor!" the Earl hissed through gritted teeth.

The two mages were almost driven mad. It was a melee again! They fell into a melee again! They were wary of causing friendly fire with large spells and small magical fireballs were like farewell gifts to Piegel. Whether it was because of the thick blood paste on him or the falling bloody water from the sky, either way, the fireballs extinguished once they hit him.