The gate of the fortress was opened, and the Viking warriors supported each other. Many of them were injured, and blood dripped from the wounds thickly, but there was no pain at all on their faces. On the contrary, they laughed heartily, or shook their heads and sighed.
"Olav, why are you unhappy?" Ulf didn't care about his physical fatigue. His legs were sore and he couldn't even feel the feeling of stepping on the ground. The hand holding the ax no longer seemed to have any strength left. .
However, Ulf still walked among the soldiers with a vague smile, making fun of them, or kicking the butts of those lying on the ground, boosting morale in his own way.
"Odin must be disgusted with me, so he refused to let me enter Valhalla." Olaf's brows frowned, and his eyes were like stars that had lost their light and dimmed.
"Why do you say that?" Ulf took a breath and walked to Olaf's side. There were some enemy corpses piled up at Olaf's feet. Ulf felt that he could no longer support himself, so he simply sat on the pile of corpses. .
"I originally thought today was the day of destiny, but I didn't expect to survive." Olaf shook his head, his beard was condensed into a bunch of blood, like a wisp of beard, and his weapon ax was blunt. It fell off, and the armor was full of scars.
"Well done, for being able to lead these young boys to block the enemy's attack, Odin and the gods must see it in their eyes." Ulf took a deep breath, the smell of blood filled his nostrils, and he didn't know when At first, Ulf got used to this taste, and sometimes it even felt addictive, which was ridiculous.
"You promised to give me a great adventure, and I'm waiting for that day." Olaf glanced at Ulf, put the ax in his hand on his waist, and walked towards another place.
"Quack, quack, quack."
Crows of crows came uninvited and fell from the sky, dancing their wings among the dead, like black angels of death.
"Ulf, come here quickly." While Ulf was staring at the group of crows enjoying the feast, Luther's voice came from the direction of the fortress, and Ulf turned his head and looked over.
I saw the Great Chief of Curonia surrounded by a group of Viking warriors, pushing in the direction of the fortress. The Chief's original fine armor and helmet had disappeared, and the Chief was shirtless and in a state of embarrassment.
"Give you land." A Viking warrior grinned, grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground, and stuffed it hard into the chief's mouth.
"Oh wow." The chief was caught off guard, and his mouth was full of smelly mud. He tried his best to spit out the mud, but he was kicked hard from behind and fell to the ground.
"Hahaha, this land is enough for you." The Viking warriors mocked the warchief unscrupulously. They were disgusted with this greedy guy.
"Wow, no, I'll pay the ransom, spare me." The chief crept forward on the ground. Without armor, he was bloated and fat. His protruding belly almost fell to the ground. His white body was like a Wriggling bugs.
"Wait." At this time, Ulf's voice came from behind the crowd. The Viking warriors stopped teasing the warchief and turned to look at Ulf.
"Ulf, oh kind chief, please." When the chief saw Ulf, he seemed to have seen a savior. He quickly stepped forward and fell at Ulf's feet, kissing Ulf's boots and begging.
"Get up." Ulf's face was as heavy as water. He reached out and grabbed the arm of the warchief and helped the warchief up.
"Chief Ulf, I have already thought about it. This is where you will be stationed." The chief swallowed, his throat sliding up and down. His eyes were full of panic. The army had dispersed and the Vikings were in control. Understanding the overall situation, "By the way, I am willing to provide supplies, I am willing to provide any amount."
"Hmm." Ulf frowned slightly, stretched out his right hand, and patted the dust on the warchief's skin. He seemed to be studying it, but his eyes made the warchief shudder.
"Ulf, he's here." At this time, Luther came here with someone. Everyone looked over curiously and found that it was Ottok, the envoy sent by the war chief before the war started.
Ottok's hands were tied with ropes, and his face
There were bruises and bruises, and there was dried blood at the corner of his mouth. This was the special care the Viking warriors gave to Ottok when they learned that the great chief led an army and suddenly besieged him.
"Hoo, ho." Otok's chest heaved, and his blue eyes stared at the embarrassed warchief in front of him. The smell of blood was strong on the battlefield, and the corpses of Curonian soldiers were scattered everywhere.
"No no no."
Suddenly, a miserable cry rang out, and Ottok and the chief couldn't help but look over. About a hundred steps away from them, an injured Curonian soldier with a bloody face was killed by another vigilante. The Jing warriors were dragged up from the ground.
The Curonian soldier didn't know whether he fainted or pretended to be dead. At this moment, in the hands of the Viking warriors, he was like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, screaming desperately.
"Shut up, you pig." The Viking warrior muttered dissatisfiedly, grabbing the Curonian soldier's brown hair with one hand, and pulled out the ax from his waist with the other hand, aiming it at the Curonian soldier's The throat area was slashed mercilessly.
There was a shrill scream, and then there was only the sound of chopping meat and splitting bones. When the Viking warrior turned around, his face and beard were covered with blood.
"What is he doing?" Ulf frowned and asked Luther curiously.
"Looking for teeth, he likes to collect beautiful teeth." Luther shrugged his shoulders and said to Ulf calmly, "Unlucky guy, who gave him beautiful teeth."
Sure enough, after the Viking warrior cut off the head of the Curonian soldier, he knocked out a row of teeth in the lower jaw, took it in his hand, rubbed it hard on the armor, and held it up as if appreciating jewelry, feeling satisfied. He nodded and put it in his arms.
"Oh wow." When the chief saw this scene, the fat all over his body trembled. The brutality of the Vikings at this moment made him feel deeply in his bones. He regretted why he provoked these demons.
"Otok, this is your warchief." Ulf looked back. Nothing on the battlefield was strange. Blood and brutality were the daily routine of warriors.
"Bah." Otok spat fiercely at the warchief, his eyes filled with angry flames. While the warchief sent him as a messenger, he launched an attack on the Vikings. It was obvious that he would He was treated as an outcast.
"Tsk, tsk, how could you treat your master like this?" Ulf slapped his mouth, shook his head slightly, turned around and pulled out a sharp short knife from the waist of a Viking warrior beside him.
