The Minotaur Warrior, strengthened by the power of the totem, emitted a dazzling bronze metallic luster.
But the ferocious armor on his body seemed to be alive, slowly wriggling with a strange rhythm, emitting an aura ten times more brutal than that of a totem beast.
Even in Ye's heart, her brother, who could never be defeated or backed down, began to tremble in front of the totem warrior.
Her brother tried to pull out the bone blade and attack from another angle.
But the bone blade was bitten by the opponent's muscles and armor.
This slowly wriggling totem armor seemed to have a strange life and a strong appetite, it actually swallowed the bone blade in her brother's hand inch by inch.
In the end, even the hilt was "eaten" by it.
If her brother didn't let go in time, both his arms might have been eaten by the totem armor!
Her brother, who had lost his weapon, also seemed to have lost all his strength and courage.
Faced with the gap between a mortal and a demon, her brother completely lost hope.
Fear was like a transparent steel nail, nailing him from the top of his head all the way to the soles of his feet, nailing him in front of the Minotaur Warrior, unable to move at all.
The Minotaur Warrior slowly raised his right hand, spreading four fingers that were thicker than Ye's arm.
"Slap!"
He slapped down.
He didn't use any moves, just the simplest and crudest slap, like an adult teaching a child a lesson.
Blood burst out of her brother's face and chest.
Hundreds of scabs that had just formed burst open again.
The shocking force squeezed out every last drop of blood in his body.
Her brother spun in the air more than ten times.
He fell heavily in front of Ye.
His appearance became even more miserable than that of a picker who fell from a cliff.
Half of his head and his entire chest were deeply caved in.
White bone stubble pierced through his skin in dozens of places, drilling out from all over his body.
His neck was bent back in a very strange way.
The sharp broken bone cut through his windpipe and blood vessels, leaving only a thin layer of flesh between his head and his chest.
But there was no breath, and no blood gushed out from the wound.
The elder brother stared at Yezi with a pitiful expression.
There was no longer any life in his bloodshot and broken eyeball.
There were no longer any electric arcs or starlight.
In the slightly opened, bottomless throat, the elder brother's ghost said weakly to Leaf,
"Run, Yezi, run …"
Being stared at by such a brother, Ye lost all her courage.
Not only did he lose the courage to wield his sword and fight to the death with his enemy.
He also lost the courage to run away.
The huge steel nail named "fear" that had pinned Ye's elder brother was now nailed into Ye's skull, nailing him into a pool of cold blood.
A minotaur warrior wearing a totemic armor walked over with large strides.
Ye closed his eyes and waited for death.
But no matter how long he waited, the pain and darkness that he expected never came.
Instead, he felt a huge, scorching body that looked like a steel statue that had just been cast lower in height in front of him.
Leaf opened her eyes.
He discovered that the Minotaur Warrior had turned the helmet engraved with the Ancestral Spirit Sacred Rune back into a totem and absorbed it back into his body, turning it into a gorgeous tattoo on his face.
Once more he showed his half ferocious face, the other half even more ferocious.
But at this moment, there was not the slightest bit of cruelty or malice on this extremely ugly face.
Instead, it was solemn and pious.
The Minotaur Warrior retracted the totemic armor on his right arm.
The armor on his left arm wriggled and condensed into a sharp blade with a bull's horn.
The sharp blade in his left hand slid gently across the base of his right palm.
Blood with a slight smell of cow immediately flowed out and was carefully poured by the Minotaur Warrior onto the elder brother's body. ‘
The Minotaur Warrior was very serious about watering.
The demonic palm that had just killed the elder brother was now watering every wound on the elder brother's body from head to toe, and even helping the elder brother smear it evenly.
Finally, the Minotaur Warrior dipped his own blood and barely found a relatively clean spot on the elder brother's messy forehead. Stroke by stroke, he drew a hoof-like pattern.
Although his fingers were thick and clumsy.
But he drew attentively and meticulously.
Throughout the process, he kept his head down. He did not look at Ye, who was close to him, nor did he look around. He was still slaughtering.
It seemed that for the Minotaur Warrior at this moment, there was nothing more important in the world than drawing a hoof-like pattern.
"This is … the Blood Bestowal Ceremony!"
Ye remembered that he and his elder brother had once heard from Muddlehead that the higher-ups of the Turan people could bestow their holy blood that contained the divine power of the ancestral spirits to the lower-ups who fought bravely and pleased the ancestral spirits.
It meant that they would use the courage and glory of the higher-ups to help the lower-ups expel the despicable and cowardly bloodline.
From then on, the lower-ups would get rid of their previous identity and clan.
They would be qualified to join the higher-ups' clans as servants and embark on a more dangerous and glorious journey.
After listening to Muddlehead's story, Ye and his elder brother had climbed to the highest mandala tree more than once, wrapped themselves in the widest leaves, rested their heads on their arms, and swayed in the breeze. They imagined that one day, they would also get the glorious bloodline of the higher-ups, get rid of their lowly "rat people" identity, and become a noble clan warrior or even a totem warrior blessed by the ancestral spirits.
Unexpectedly, his elder brother realized his dream so quickly.
Not only did he get rid of the lowly bloodline.
He also joined one of the five major clans of the Turan people, the largest and most powerful clan, the "Blood Hoof Clan".
Unfortunately, it was as a corpse.
Ye didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
He knew that the Ox-Head Warrior wouldn't kill him.
When Muddlehead was clear-headed, he once told him that the purpose of totem warriors' battles was to please the ancestral spirits.
Therefore, when they entered the state of "Totem Frenzy", they would definitely challenge opponents that were strong enough, or at least brave enough.
Victory or defeat, life or death, were not important.
What was important was courage, courage, bravery, and glory.
The reason why the Ox-Head Warrior summoned his totem armor just now was not because he couldn't defeat his elder brother in the state of no armor.
— — Even if he didn't summon his totem armor, even if he didn't dodge or block, his elder brother's extraordinary attack still couldn't cut through the Ox-Head Warrior's bones.
As long as the Ox-Head Warrior was serious, he could break his elder brother's neck with two fingers.
But the Ox-Head Warrior probably didn't expect that there would be someone who dared to wave a sword at him in a small rat people village.
His elder brother's courage moved him, so he used his totem armor to give his elder brother the glory he deserved.
In the same way, the Ox-Head Warrior wearing the totem armor would not kill Ye.
Killing such a dejected young man, who was waiting for death, would not only not please the ancestral spirits, but also tarnish the sacred totem power.
Now, Ye wasn't even qualified to die in the hands of the Ox-Head Warrior.
Realizing this, the young man didn't feel the slightest joy of surviving a disaster.
On the contrary, he felt that the spirits of his mother and elder brother, as well as An Jia and the others in the pile of captives, were staring at him.
Their eyes were like chains shot out from the abyss of the undead, tightly binding Ye's hands and feet and dragging him into the strongest darkness.
…
"Go, go, you lowly rats. If you don't want to die without a burial place, go through here!"
Three days later.
On the "Wild Ox River", the most turbulent tributary of the Tulan River, near a raging waterfall with a drop of hundreds of meters, groups of rat people captives were crossing the river in a line.
The Bloodhoof Warriors waved their oxtail whips inlaid with sharp thorns, lashing the skin and flesh of the timid rat people. While torturing the hearts of the captives with the most vicious curses, they laughed out loud, as if they were watching a wonderful show.
The rat people captives had their hands behind their backs, tightly tied by the ox-tendon rope.
The ox-tendon contracted when it came into contact with the water, deeply embedding in the captives' flesh. The pain made them break out in a cold sweat, and they couldn't keep their balance in the wet and slippery torrent.
Moreover, the captives didn't move forward alone, but in a row of ten. They were fixed by the straight and elastic Datura branches, like frozen caterpillars.
When the village was burned down, almost all the captives were injured to varying degrees.
They had traveled for three days without sleep or rest on the most rugged mountain roads, and the Bloodhoof Warriors only gave them a little bit of rotten and hard old Datura fruit to eat.
Many of the captives' wounds were festering, and their bodies were burning hot. They were on the verge of death.
Even more of them were hungry, their limbs sore, and their bodies weak.
Theoretically, in the Wild Ox River above the waterfall, there were huge protruding rocks on the riverbed that connected the two sides of the river. They could serve as stepping stones for them to walk over.
The problem was that they were "waist" of the Bloodhoof Warriors.
Most of the rat people were several heads or even half as tall as the Bloodhoof Warriors.
For the Bloodhoof Warriors, the waist-deep river could often reach the chest, neck, or even the top of the rat people's head.
In addition, the stepping stones were wet and slippery because of the water.
The water above the waterfall was especially turbulent.
The deafening explosions smashed the captives' skulls like war hammers that were full of thorns. The rat folk, whose heads were already dizzy in the first place, felt that the world was swirling even more.
Many of the captives staggered and fell into the cold water the moment they stepped into the Wild Ox River.
In a row of ten captives, as long as two or three of them were washed into the river, the others would not be able to stand and would be dragged down the waterfall. They would fall into pieces amidst screams and disappear without a trace.
The Bloodhoof Warriors didn't care at all. They didn't feel pity for the captives they had worked so hard to capture to be eaten by the fish.
They just waved their oxtail whips with all their might, urging the remaining captives to cross the river.
"On the other side of the Wild Ox River is the main city of the Bloodhoof Clan, Blackhorn City!
"Blackhorn City is a land of heroes, a holy land, and a land of glory. It cannot be tainted by the impure blood of cowards.
"You lowly rats, if you want to go to Blackhorn City, get rid of your filthy bloodline, and participate in the Battle of Glory, there is only one way, and that is through here!"
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
