You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 409 He is dead

Kolin of Iceland stood on the vast and chaotic battlefield, his eyes glazed over and his limbs stiff.

Above his head, a dragon was flapping its wings, stirring up a gale, trying to rise higher.

But it had been struck many times, and its body was riddled with more than ten spears and arrows of varying depths, tearing its flesh and bringing it unbearable weight.

The dragon scales were shattered, dragon blood was spilled on the ground, the dragon wings were torn, and the whole body looked like a kite full of holes.

Wow!
It struggled in the sky, powerless to reverse its downward momentum, only managing to let out a mournful cry before tilting and plummeting from the sky to the earth!
"Run! Run!" Just then, Colin heard Martin's voice, distant and inconspicuous.

boom!
The dragon crashed to the ground, the earth trembled, and dust billowed. Colin was struck and fell to the ground.

He sat on the ground, staring blankly, completely unaware that he had almost been crushed to death.

Colin's gaze met the dragon's vertical pupils.

The dragon was so close, closer than ever before. Heat emanated from between its teeth, and its breath brushed against him. He could feel the scorching waves rushing towards him.

The latter's life force vanished rapidly in his eyes, the flowing blood quietly gathered into a stream, and the flames deep within the dragon's vertical pupils gradually dimmed and went out.

It's not over yet.

……

Thick black smoke billowed from all corners of the battlefield, turning the area into a living hell.

Igor warriors fought valiantly and slaughtered their way across the battlefield.

Dragons swooped down on the earth, spewing forth raging flames. Their wings manipulated storms, driving the flames to sweep across the entire battlefield, turning it into a sea of ​​fire.

The Papacy's army of believers was like straw, being harvested and killed in droves, filling everyone's noses with a strong smell of burning.

Even so, the knights of the gods continued to charge. They charged in droves, fearless and utterly zealous, driven by a fervor that knew no bounds.

[Demon Hunter's Mark]!
The knights of the gods cast spells simultaneously.

It was as if a pair of merciless eyes had opened in the void, staring at all targets.

This spell can not only locate targets, but also increase the hit rate.

"Eyes of the gods! Guide me! Radiance of the gods! Grant me divine power!" The demon hunter gripped his short spear tightly, his armor radiating a dark light, and even the short spear exuded a sharp aura.

Swish swish swish! ! !

More than thirty short spears shot from the ground into the sky, surging upwards! These were all the Demon Hunter Knights stationed at the Immortal Fortress.

[The Power of Chaos]!
The witch Geion made her move.

She chanted obscure incantations, interfering with the demon hunters' spells and causing most of their attacks to miss.

A dragon that had just swooped down managed to withstand several short spears and nearly fell. It swung its neck, and flames erupted.

Another sea of ​​fire rose up, engulfing the demon hunters!
"Ah!" A certain demon hunter knight was the first to be hit!
The most powerful dragon flames scorched his entire body, making him feel the terrifying rapid increase in temperature. Although the extraordinary metal had a magic resistance effect, the scorching heat penetrated the metal and quickly melted his flesh, causing him to let out a shrill scream inside the armor!
on another battlefield.

Clad in blood-red armor, the Judgment Knight rampaged across the battlefield, invincible.

No matter how well a warrior is equipped, it's useless. Whether they are mid-level or high-level, if they are unarmored, they will only face death when facing multiple Judgment Knights.

The Judgment Knight, who once brought nightmares to the warriors of the valley, wore heavy copper armor, his warhorse was also fully armed, and he wielded a three-to-five-meter-long lance, reaping lives with lightning speed.

Whether it's a first-tier or third-tier weapon, any flesh and blood body without any protective defense will only meet one fate when it encounters the Judgment Knight's spear blade!
Wherever it went, bits of flesh flew everywhere, and no one tried to stop it!
Until the Knights of Judgment encountered the Berserkers—a guard of axemen, clad in full armor, tall and burly, each wielding an axe weighing thirty to fifty pounds.

They all drank the Igor Potion, a berserker potion made from poisonous mushrooms that could enhance strength and alleviate pain.

Behind him, Ego's witch quietly chanted a spell.

[Storm Power]!
A group of berserkers stood there, the secret potion briefly transforming them into painless, tireless, and extremely bloodthirsty killing maniacs. Meanwhile, Priest Ego's incantation caused the dragon steel axe blades to discolor, turning them crimson red, reaching hundreds of degrees Celsius.

"Power of the gods! Judge evil! Light of the gods! Suppress evil!"

The Blood Judgment!
The Judgment Knights also used magic, and the entire group was enveloped in a layer of bloody light, forming a divine aura.

Its posture is exceptionally cold and ruthless, capable of instilling immense fear and trembling in its enemies; if mortals were to gaze upon it, they would witness a raging sea of ​​blood engulfing them.

at this time.

Alex, the King of the North, stood on the high platform and blew the Dragon Horn at Ego!

……

It is the Mid-Autumn Festival. Summer has passed, the grain has been harvested, and the autumn air is crisp and clear.

It was during a time of war.

The world of gods launched an attack, and the world of dragons sounded the horn and resolutely met the challenge.

North of Ironflower County, outside the walls of the Immortal Fortress, a vast expanse of land has become a battlefield.

This was a terrifying massacre.

The number of people involved is too large to calculate.

Those who are in the midst of it all know that people die on this battlefield every moment.

They would either be hacked to death, burned to death, stabbed to death, or shot to death...

Dragons are no exception...

Dragons are no exception...

Colin's mouth was dry, his hands were trembling, and his vision became shockingly narrow. He could see nothing but the dead dragon. After a long while, he realized what had happened and, as if utterly exhausted, scrambled away from the still-warm, dead dragon's corpse.

Ah! Ahhh!! He gasped for breath, tears streaming down his face for some reason, feeling as if his heart was gripping his throat.

He was in terrible pain. He wanted to scream hysterically, but no sound came out.

The brutal reality of the battlefield was laid bare before him!
Bugle calls, high temperatures, thick smoke, chaotic battles, shouts of killing, the stench of burning... all the information was assaulting his brain, and everything was pressing in on him in an instant!
Mom, help me! Mom! Mom! I feel so bad!
A pulling force came from behind, and Colin was dragged more than half a meter away.

Colin turned and saw Martin's face, covered in pustules, filled with resentment. He just wanted to get by, but witnessing the young man's panic and helplessness, this nominal junior officer reminded him of his child who died on the battlefield. He wanted to pull him out and drag him away from the vortex of war, but suddenly half a bloodstained pitchfork pierced his chest, taking away all his ability to move.

Colin saw Jaeger being disemboweled, while the noseless man slumped on the ground, trying to stuff his dusty intestines back in, completely unaware that a figure behind him was about to swing a weapon.
When Colin saw that little Elor was already lying in a pool of blood, the poor kid had no idea how he died;

Many more people died here.

More tribal servants like him.

The corpses he saw were just a drop in the ocean of the vast battlefield.

Only those extraordinary units are still fighting to the death, displaying unwavering fighting spirit and fearlessness in the face of death. They are the core of the battlefield.

Countless insignificant people, however, are ignored. Like weeds, they are harvested, harmed, and utterly reduced to mere background figures on the battlefield.

Colin looked around blankly, and before he could even stand up, a curved blade slashed down at him.

The whole world was divided in his eyes.

he died.

The smell of death on the battlefield grew stronger.

(End of this chapter)