Fortunately, the elite warriors of the Blood Hoof Clan had relatively obvious features.
Other than a few foreign warriors, most of the native warriors of the Blood Hoof Territory, no matter how mixed their blood was, had strong characteristics of cloven-hoofed beasts.
Their totemic armor also had a distinct family inheritance, engraved with dazzling runes and totems.
As for the hooded cloaks that snuck into Blackhorn City, once they tore off their disguises, they had all kinds of appearances.
Some looked like lions, some looked like wolves, some looked like lizards, and some looked like vultures. Their mixed blood was even more obvious.
Coupled with their guilty temperament, it was easy to distinguish them from the furious Blood Hoof Warriors.
Therefore, on the smoke-filled streets, in the burning ruins, and near the temples, as long as the Blood Hoof Warriors encountered these people, who had strong characteristics of outsiders and ran away when they saw them, a bloody battle would immediately break out.
No matter how strict the training these "emissaries of the Great-horned Rat God" had received in the past, they were still inferior to the clan warriors that had been passed down for a thousand years. Even in their mothers' wombs, they had used all kinds of secret medicines and the flesh of totemic beasts to build a solid foundation.
They were just grave robbers. Once they fought with the regular army, how could they be a match for the latter?
In just a short moment, countless hooded cloaks had their blood splattered, and some were even dismembered into thousands of pieces, becoming sacrifices of the Blood Hoof Warriors' boundless anger.
Very soon, the hooded cloaks that had been blocked in the various temples were completely destroyed.
But the Blood Hoof Warriors, whose anger had yet to dissipate, soon discovered that the real trouble had just begun.
They were still a step too late.
Many hooded cloaks had already looted most of the temples in Blackhorn City. Before the Blood Hoof Warriors surrounded the temples, they had already escaped and were running around in the streets and alleys.
At this moment, Blackhorn City had long been changed beyond recognition by the chain of biogas explosions.
The smoke and flames shredded the vision and communication of the Blood Hoof Warriors into a mess.
As a result, every squad of Blood Hoof Warriors would immediately become isolated and helpless when they charged into the flames and smoke and searched among the ruins.
The hooded cloaks that escaped from the temple, on the other hand, were as slippery as loaches that had been smeared with oil. They seemed to be able to squeeze through even the gaps of a palm.
On top of that, there were newly armed Rat Folk Volunteers everywhere. They were shouting at the top of their lungs and running around like headless flies, adding fuel to the fire of the chaotic situation.
The Bloodhoof Warriors naturally did not put the Rat Folk Militia in their eyes.
In any case, even if they stood where they were and let the Rat People Revolutionary Army slash at them a hundred times, they might not be able to break through their totemic armor.
The problem was that they would have to waste a lot of time if they wanted to annihilate the rebel army of the rats who had blocked the entire street. They would lose track of their real target, and their organization, which was already broken, would be even more chaotic. They would not be able to receive, deliver, and carry out the orders from outside of Black Horn City effectively.
This was the principle that after an ancient army captured and besieged a city, they would often go on a rampage without stopping for three days.
With the outdated communication and organization, it was impossible for them to stop even if they wanted to. They could not control the situation at all.
Although Black Horn City was the hometown of many Bloodhoof Warriors, from the bottom of their hearts, they did not want to turn the glorious city, especially their own residences, into a mess.
However, the invasion of the temple, and the fact that the lowly Rat People dared to resist the rule of the warriors, was an unbelievable blow to their minds. It made them so furious that their rationality was completely destroyed.
Besides, there were also many Bloodhoof Warriors who came from small and medium-sized towns.
Even if Black Horn City was turned upside down, what did it have to do with them?
When the situation was already as messy as a bowl of porridge that had been overturned on the ground, something new happened.
A squad of Bloodhoof Warriors came from the local area and stopped two panicked hooded capes at the end of a broken street.
As a result of the fierce battle, they had a few wounds that were so deep that their bones could be seen.
However, the two hooded capes were literally "blown up" by them.
Not only did their totemic armor break apart, but two ancient-looking blades and a few fragrant secret medicines burst out from within the armor.
Naturally, these things were all stolen from a certain temple by the hooded cloaks.
The Bloodhoof Warriors from the local area stared at the blades and the secret medicines, their gazes gradually becoming blank.
They all came from the periphery of the Bloodhoof Clan, an inconspicuous third-rate family.
The dazzling temple in Black Horn City had nothing to do with them.
In their hometown, in the small, simple temple, they had never worshiped such a fierce-looking saber or a secret medicine that would make people restless even when they smelled it.
The Bloodhoof Warriors swallowed a few mouthfuls of saliva with difficulty. They looked to their left and right, but they did not see any experts from the powerful families in Black Horn City.
Naturally, they moved quickly and quickly put the "spoils of war" into their bosoms.
After all, they were the ones who killed the damned enemies with their own hands.
According to the laws of the Turan people, if the spoils of war dropped from the bodies of the enemies did not belong to them, who else could it belong to?
Similar things were happening more and more frequently in the middle of the fire and smoke.
To be able to find the traces of thieves in the extremely chaotic burning city and blow up these despicable people was already an extremely difficult task.
Nobody could guarantee that the thieves they stopped would be the thieves who robbed their own temple.
Then, what should they do when the hooded cloaks dropped marvelous weapons that were surrounded by coldness and surrounded by spiritual energy, as well as the secret medicines that contained terrifying totemic power?
Should they stay where they were and wait for their master to come and return the items to their rightful owners?
How was it possible?
Many Bloodhoof Warriors had learned that their temples had been ransacked and that all the ancient weapons, armors, and secret medicines were gone.
How could they, who were in a hurry to recover their losses, give away the fat meat in their hands?
When such things happened too often, it was inevitable that a team of Bloodhoof Warriors was searching for the trophies from the dead bodies of the temple thieves and was about to put the trophies into their bosoms when another team of Bloodhoof Warriors rushed out of the smoke, who were the original owners of the trophies.
Had it not been for the serial explosions of the methane …
Had it not been for the arrival of the Horned Rat God that shattered the worldview of the warriors of the clans …
Had it not been for the theft of the temple that made the Bloodhoof Warriors so furious that they lost their minds …
Had it not been for every team, gang, and legion that could maintain a strict organization and a high degree of order …
As for the ownership of the trophies, it was not impossible to bring them to the chief and the priests for negotiation.
Even if the negotiation failed, the Bloodhoof Warriors could still settle it in a glorious duel in front of the temple.
Whatever the outcome of the duel was, it would not hurt the harmony between the Bloodhoof Warriors.
It was a pity that the nerves of all the Bloodhoof Warriors were either broken or on the verge of breaking when they saw the apocalyptic scene after they rushed into Blackhorn City.
Many people saw that the ancient weapons, armors, and secret medicines consecrated in their temples had fallen into someone else's hands. They did not have the time or bother to distinguish whether the enemy was a thief of the temple or a 'partner' who was trying to take advantage of the situation.
The Bloodhoof Warriors solved the problem in the most straightforward way. The other situation was that the ancient weapons, armors, and secret medicines consecrated in their temples had fallen into someone else's hands.
The other situation was that they were noble warriors who were born and raised in Blackhorn City and came from a large clan.
They discovered that the third-rate warriors from the local areas were stealthily searching for the corpses of the temple thieves.
In fact, the trophies they found from the corpses might not be the weapons, armors, and temples that belonged to their ancestors that were consecrated in the temples of these noble warrior families.
However, under the shroud of flames and thick smoke, in this city that had lost all order and was burning in chaos, who cared about these things?
The noble warriors from the rich families smiled and politely thanked the third-rate warriors from the local villages for helping them recover the stolen goods from their family temples.
They held the trembling battle axes or battle hammers in one hand and extended their other hand in front of the third-rate warriors, politely asking them to return the items to their rightful owners.
Most of the time, the third-rate warriors from the local villages would obediently hand over the stolen goods after comparing the diameter of their own thighs to the diameter of the other party's arms. They would be grateful, and everyone would be happy.
As for the third-rate warriors who were obsessed and stubborn to the end …
The noble warriors from the rich families could only ask them to be stubborn and stubborn.
Similar things happened more and more frequently, and the situation escalated. The Bloodhoof Warriors from the local villages were gradually enlightened.
They found the corpses of some of their companions from the local villages among the dilapidated walls.
The fatal wounds on the corpses did not seem to be the work of the temple thieves.
The temple thieves mostly used thin and short sharp weapons. The wounds they caused were usually cuts or stab wounds.
These corpses, however, had been smashed by heavy weapons such as spiked clubs, meteor hammers, and giant axes. They had broken their bones, and their brains had burst out.
Judging from the killing style, it seemed like the work of one of the Bloodhoof Clan's own people.
Looking at the bloody corpses, the Bloodhoof Warriors from the local villages were silent for a long time.
Suddenly, they realized a problem that they should have realized a long time ago.
What did the looting of the temple in Black Horn City have to do with the Bloodhoof Warriors from the local villages?
Of course, they were brothers connected by blood. Their ancestral spirits were inextricably linked to each other. Logically speaking, they should share honor and disgrace and be united.
However, the high-level beastmen had never been a race that liked to be reasonable.
They fought with their lives on the line amidst the flames and smoke. It was not easy for them to obtain even the slightest bit of benefit, but there was a high chance that the rich families would snatch away their spoils of war. They might even lose their lives.
No matter how well-developed or simple-minded the Bloodhoof Warriors were, they would not be willing to do such a losing deal.
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