Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 453 - 98: Holy Curse_1

Chapter 453: Chapter 98: Holy Curse_1

Once again, the Tornado from the human world swept across the Donau Wasteland, causing their retreat.

It was hard to understand the collapse of a large-scale military organization like the "Tornado Mercenary Group", given its strength. After all, they still had 5,000 men, who possessed great combat power.

The two Golden Figures of Yunqin were indeed powerful and seemingly invincible, but according to the effective experiences of dealing with magic dolls from various countries in Aegean Continent, even if they did not have the power to defeat them, they could take advantage of the slow movements of the dolls. With organized retreats and avoidance tactics, it would be possible to wear down the dolls’ summoning time, and the Tornado Mercenary Group could potentially muster strength for a fight.

Captain Gatuso had indeed planned exactly that. The vast wasteland provided them with plenty of room for evasion, and it seemed they could easily avoid the two formidable Golden Figure dolls. The concept of victory no longer existed in Captain Gatuso’s mind; all he could think about was safely retreating from this place.

He had overestimated the morale of his mercenaries. After all, they were still mercenaries, not knights who would fight to the death without hesitation.

Yitiao once again demonstrated that, much like the Dragon Clan, it didn’t solely rely on its wings for flight. When all the mercenaries witnessed a hairless giant bird gripping a large cleaver with one wing and utilising magical flames to blast all the knights to pieces, their courage gradually drained away.

Yitiao’s magic column of flame, combined with the ’double-powder gourds’ dropped by the flying Newtons, plunged the tightly packed mercenaries into a terrifying abyss.

The ’double-powder gourds’ that Feilengcui had hoarded for nearly half a month were almost depleted under the Hippoian poet’s command. The gourds that the Newton’s flying units were currently dropping were the last of their stockpile.

Although the archers tried to intercept the gourds, no matter how hard they tried, when the cluster-bombs of forty gourds exploded, the morale of the mercenaries disappeared instantly. The mercenaries bathed in the rain of fire and enveloped in explosions could no longer maintain their orderly retreat formation.

The light cavalry on the flanks were the first to crumble. Their flight spurred the soldiers beside them to do the same. The torment spread like a plague; the foot soldiers in the central cluster could no longer bear it. Everyone has a limit to their courage; in face of a catastrophe, even Captain Gatuso chose to flee. No one could predict who would be the unlucky one hit by the aimless bombardment.

The Overlord of Feilengcui chose an extremely sinister way to pursue. All the Feilengcui fighters, except for the goblins and slaves left to guard, were gathered up. The Gortani knights were left to look after the unconscious Avril, and the rest, fully equipped, rode the multi-footed giant horses left behind by the Berserkers to slowly pick off the foot soldiers lagging behind.

The straggling foot soldiers couldn’t match the speed or on-the-spot troop strength of the Beamon riding the giant horses. When the miners of Feilengcui, Holy Temple Knights, Wolf Riders, air cavalry and the assisting Scepter Shamans formed a combination, it was just too powerful. The small groups of mercenaries could not resist. Some officers tried to organize their men to hold the rear, but once their troops were gathered together, they were the first to be bombarded by spells from the master Otigha and the magical beasts, followed by a war trampling by the Feilengcui heavy cavalry.

As for the scattered mercenaries, they were nothing more than live targets for the Wolf Riders to flaunt their sword skills.

This sinister wolf-pack tactic soon made the foot soldiers realize that no matter how fast they ran, their destruction was only a matter of time.

By the next morning, close to three regiments of foot soldiers, archers, and eight hundred thieves operating under the guise of laborer were all fallen across the Donau Wasteland.

The cavalry were not having an easy time either, getting harassed by the flying Newtons and flaming cranes, and kept running non-stop.

The attacks from the flaming cranes and the flying Newtons were not frequent, but they exerted severe psychological stress on the human mercenaries who were tormented by the thought that any moment they might be detected by the flying Beamon and become their next target.

With this thought in mind, every cavalryman spurred on his steed, wishing it could sprout wings.

After half a day and a sleepless night of aimless fleeing, all the cavalrymen lamentably discovered a terrifying truth - they had run out of provisions.

Though warhorses could eat grass when starving, humans didn’t have the same capability. Without food, it was a pipe dream to think they could make it out of the wasteland.

Harassed by the pursuit of the Beamon and evading small groups of bandits, the famished and exhausted mercenaries began to kill and eat their warhorses. Two men would then share one mount. While this solved their hunger, it drastically slowed their speed. Now, even the native bandits roaming the wasteland started to see them as easy pickings.

Truth be told, once all the foot soldiers had been dealt with, the only ones that continued the pursuit of the cavalry were two hundred Wolf Riders and the Holy Temple Knights. Some followers of the Scepter Shaman also joined the hunt, while the Feilengcui militia, due to their poor riding skills and heavy body, after a struggle, lost sight of even the backsides of the Wolf Riders. Dejected, they led the multi-footed giant horses back home.