Bragard knelt on the side of the hall, the green moonlight suppressing his pale skin and almost rotten clothes.
Taking the elixir of life all year round, while gaining the ability to live forever, it has made him obviously different from humans.
Although the war situation was quite critical, the immortals focused their indifferent eyes on the master in the coffin without saying a word. Their master always disliked their slaves disturbing his sleep without permission.
For a long time, the smell of metal and ashes wafted out of the coffin, and the humid air became hot and humid. The immortal who noticed that his skin was wet felt convinced that his master had woken up, and immediately lowered his head.
Under the dark hood, two green flames shone in the direction of Bugalad. The immortal immediately felt that the blood in his body seemed to be burning, and something pierced his head.
"I already know all the circumstances. You should be punished for your dereliction of duty."
Cold words that seemed like lifeless things came out from under the hood, and fear made Bragard's whole body start to tingle, until finally the continuous severe pain brought him real punishment.
Bragard endured severe pain and fed on it, just as his master had taught him when training him.
The pale skin was so twisted that it almost looked like a normal creature, and the pain gradually stopped.
After letting go of his useless slave, Nagash sat upright in the coffin as if sulking. He had seen the fighting situation everywhere through the eyes of the skeletons everywhere on the battlefield.
Those damn rats running around on the battlefield, if left completely unchecked, would undoubtedly destroy what he had accumulated among these barbarian tribes in the past two hundred years.
And if you take care of it, it will also be troublesome.
For this kind of scattered raiding team, Nagash has tried countless times to annihilate the opponent in batches, but maintaining thousands of chasing skeleton teams will greatly consume Nagash's energy.
Pictures on the battlefield kept appearing and disappearing like foam on the waves. The torrent of information kept flowing through Nagash's soul, emitting the wail of the dead soul.
Despite their best efforts to command different battle groups, the end result was that the Necromancer's will was so weak that he could only kill an ordinary elite spellcaster.
His current condition is quite bad. In order to repair his body and restore its vitality, he has consumed more than half of the burning stones in his reserve.
Although there are three mines that continue to supply these magical green glowing stones, during the years of war, their quantities are never enough.
The mana brought by the sacrifice of souls and the naturally existing magic wind are too weak at the current rate of mana consumption.
These mana powers are not enough to keep his body from being shattered to pieces. The burning stone in the veins is currently Nagash's only source of mana power.
This resulted in the underground mines being no less important to him than the rats. No matter what, he had to send enough troops to protect the mines underground and try to encroach on more mines. .
This resulted in him not having enough energy to deal with the rat guerrillas on the ground. .... After about a few minutes, the air in the hall became hotter as the flames on Nagash's body grew stronger.
The cold will accompanied by the voice resounded in the minds of all the immortal servants of Nagash who still had their own will and those who had not yet surrendered to death.
"My loyal servants, in the name of Nagash the Immortal, with all the strength you have in life and death, defend your front."
"I will personally lead an army to destroy those filthy rat nests."
The firm and cold will was withdrawn into the withered body, the atrophied tendons grasped the armrest on the side, and the necromancer's withered body stood up from the coffin tremblingly.
Although the wound on his spine still aches in his soul, and the mana that joins the body now is all improvised, Nagash no longer intends to follow the rats' ideas.
In order to clear out his suppressive forces on the ground, the rats
Most of the main force was harassing the outside.
This just makes it easier for the Immortals to break into the core underground fortress hidden in the 4th mine behind the six-layered fortress. As long as they lose their nest, these damn rats can stay at home for at least ten years.
With a wave of his hand, the Immortal knelt beside the table like a slave, picked up the octagonal round plate made of high-purity burning stone engraved with runes, trudged out of the hall and placed it on the cyan sedan.
The magic mark on it can help the necromancer who created it to slightly reduce the burden of casting spells.
For Nagash in his current situation, saving this little bit of mana is worth it.
When his body was served by slaves and sat on the green sedan, Nagash's royal sedan bearers—the former owner of the sedan and his compatriots—lifted the increasingly heavier sedan, sending out a sound between the bones. There was a creaking sound like a groan, and then a real wail came from their souls.
At the same time, in the underground fortress, I heard the reserve team of the Rikeke clan was dispatched, and the lord of the Barrier-breaking clan who came over was already saying angrily to Ikrit.
"Putting the reserve team into the offensive so quickly? Ikrit, you are taking a gamble."
"That's what the reserve team does."
Ikrit's head is not authentic either.
Iturs was in front of him, leading the troops that had been organized into a combat team and rushed towards the eighth mine one kilometer away.
The lord of the Barrier-Breaking Clan was dressed roughly, and he reluctantly allowed his already quite fat body to keep up with Ikrit's speed, and said in confusion.
"Why do we have to win the eighth mine? We are not in a hurry for the income at all."
"The attack is about to begin, don't interfere with me!"
As he spoke, Ikrit's speed became a little faster, and he quickly rushed in front of Ituls, saying.
"Iturs! Come up with me!"
The front line composed of skeletons and the large underground fortress with only a small shooting port originally built by the rat people had already appeared in front of them.
The defenders here seemed quite sparse, and they were obviously attracted by the evil plague clan who invaded the tunnel behind them.
The skeletal figures, who even turned around very slowly, only had time to release a row of loose arrows before the lord rushed in front of them. .... Ikrit swung his sword at a speed that was almost invisible to the naked eye, slashed all these things aside, and continued to hit the skeletons' line at an undiminished speed.
The light of the knife flashed through the air like lightning, splitting the bones that were already covered with mold into neat skeletal fragments.
Kicking a skeleton apart again, before the fluffy ghouls in the distance could react, Ikrit turned to Iturs.
"Kill! Kill! The entrance to the bunker is at the bottom left!"
Thanks to the fact that these fortresses were built by rat people, Lord Iklit, who had been fighting for many years, quickly found the former secret door and kicked on the iron door again.
The huge power brought by the alchemy potion severely distorted it, the fixed rivets, and the blocked layman behind it, revealing a broken passage just big enough for a rat man to pass through.
"Ituls, you go in first, you can deal with the stuff inside."
"no problem."
As he spoke, Iturs waved the small war hammer on his waist and got into the small hole.
Leaving behind Ikrit and the Lord of the Barrier-Breaking Clan who had just been stained with a large area of gray dirt.
"The Stickman Monster will definitely seek a decisive battle after being harassed to the point where he can no longer bear it. We must take back the fortress here and build fortifications."
"If you have nothing to do, go in and help Ituls."
Ikrit grabbed the round ears of the fat rat lord in front of him, but when he lowered his head, he saw the opponent's spherical belly.
"I don't think you'll be of much use. Go to the front and help open the passage for the assault troops!"
With that said, Ikrit stepped back.
Passing through the front line that had been broken into a triangle shape and was about to be broken through, Ikrit finally stood up under the fluorescent
Zhan Qi found his ide messenger.
The messenger who had just arrived from behind was staying with the only remaining personal guards, keeping his body as low as possible to prevent being discovered by anything that might pose a threat.
"Passengers! Pass the message to the leaders of several major clans separately. If the skeletons and *** human things shrink their forces, concentrate their forces to storm the Nagashzar Fortress!"
The sudden sharp voice of the order startled the orderlies, and the strong smell of rat urine immediately spread in the humid air.
"Leave it to my scouts, they will be faster."
Following the hoot of an owl, a figure in black robe quietly appeared beside Ikrit, almost making Ikrit pull out his sword.
Fortunately, over the past few decades, he has become barely immune to this sound.
"Eshiriga! Didn't I tell you to be on the ground?"
In response to Ikrit's question, the defector shrugged his shoulders, with a look of resentment in his eyes.
"The Moss clan's staff and messengers took over my work."
The dissatisfied look only lasted for a moment, and the black-haired, black-eyed rat changed into a smiling face.
"I also distributed twenty warpstone bombs to the assassins on the ground. When necessary, my assassins will blow up the city wall to allow our troops to enter the interior of Nagashzar."
After scratching his head, Ikrit's expression slowly relaxed and he said. …."Alright. You can send a message to Eski again. There are no stickman monsters on the ground, and ask his troops to help capture Nagashzar!"
After another owl hooted, the defector turned around and said to Ikrit.
"The final problem is with us."
The traitor's tone became sharper and sharper, as if he was usually in a drunken state.
"We can't defeat the Stickman. One of his spells can kill us. We can only rely on the amulet given by the Gray Prophet to avoid the opponent's magical damage."
"As for relying on the Storm Rats to encircle and kill, the lesson learned last time was not enough? If we were the only ones with the personal guards trying to encircle and kill that damn stickman, we would end up even worse than Werski."
"Based on Wilski's situation, I estimate that it will take more than three gray lords, plus the simultaneous action of the chief of the Prophet Council, to defeat the stickman."
After the summary, the black rat eyes and red rat eyes under the black robe looked at each other and said seriously.
"So I want to know, what's the use of the fortress? Can it withstand a few stickman monsters' spells? I suggest we retreat as soon as possible."
"Of course I know this fortress won't last long."
Ikrit said, waved his hand, and led the rebel master to disintegrate a dozen ghouls that were still resisting and pass through to the main entrance of the bunker.
Passing through the gate that was already covered with corpses, they patted the dirty Iturs on the shoulder and motioned for him to go down and rest. Then, the two old lords entered the inner hall of the fortress.
A huge corridor-like tunnel appeared in the sight of the two rats.
"The most special thing about this fortress is that you haven't been here before."
Pointing to the wooden columns, Ikrit's eyes lit up.
"Do you remember that this place was burned down by us? Most of these re-established load-bearing structures are inside the fortress, and the burning objects can be easily connected through mechanisms."
"We will pour oil on the support pillars around the fortress. Whenever the Stickman Monster comes, we will bury him with this mountain!"
"Quickwall told me before the war that you can teleport up to five hundred meters at a time. Even a stickman will die if there is no safe place to stay around!"
Ikrit's tone became more and more excited.
"Don't lie to me, you know, this plan is a gamble."
The defector was keenly aware that there was a hint of fear in Ikrit's confident eyes.
"Of course it's gambling. But the mine is where Stickman must save him.
Therefore, it is worth my risk. "
Ikrit said, suddenly laughing easily.
"These are all our speculations. Didn't Esky say that the stickman monster is just a possibility? Maybe he is still lying in bed half-dead like Wersky."
"Ikrit!"
He was cursing that Nagash had better die from his injuries so that they could relax.
The voice of the young Stormvermin outside brought the Betrayal Lord and Ikrit back to the current environment.
"I saw the battle flag of the Plague Clan outside, would you like to confirm it?"
The two rats inside the fortress stood on a pile of remains and fluffy ghoul corpses, looking at each other in shock, and Ikrit spoke first.
"The Plague Clan has already arrived here? How could it be possible? According to my calculations, it will take at least an hour for them to come here!"
"Except when we saw the fireworks, Sirik didn't encounter many main forces along the way, but that doesn't make sense? The defense here is indeed relaxed because of the Plague Clan."
The defector also looked puzzled.
Full of doubts, the lords of the Evil Plague clan asked in unison as soon as they arrived.
"Cyric? What's going on?"
.
How can Tao survive when things perish?
