Chapter 240, Pitchfork Knight

The waves were surging, and in this endless ocean, even the warships made of metal seemed extremely insignificant.

The brutal boarding battle came to an end.

Suddenly, a heavy rain fell from the sky.

At sea, the weather is always so changeable.

The human fleet left, and the Western Expeditionary Force was unable to pursue, mainly because they could not catch up. After a brutal boarding battle, a large number of corpses were left behind.

The diffused blood was diluted by the falling raindrops.

The outcome of this battle is easy to guess. No matter how weak the ratmen's bathtub battleship is, its loading capacity is strong enough, and the ratmen have maximized this loading capacity.

A basin full of rat-men.

A basin full of ratmen warriors.

Rope Seven, who was so thin that he seemed like he would be blown down by the wind at any time, was laughing crazily on the battleship with the flag in his hand.

The falling raindrops wet his fur, making him look disheveled, but did not interrupt his laughter.

Rainwater began to accumulate in the ratman warship. Due to the structural defects of the warship, the rainwater soon flooded the bottom of the round basin warship.

There was a hint of scarlet in the surging rainwater, and corpses were floating in the accumulated rain.

The human warriors on these warships are not weak, and are even quite fierce. The ratmen have always been maintaining wars with various races at an extremely poor exchange ratio.

Of course, it wasn’t just the corpses that were floating in the heavy rain and washed away by it.

During this long voyage, the large number of ratmen gathered in the warship did not care about anything, or rather, the extremely compact space did not provide any opportunity for them to care about anything.

All the food and feces are eaten in this basin. Although the big-clawed priest will not allow these guys to get close to the gear structure, there are no taboos in other places.

In a very short time, a thick layer of soil was piled up at the bottom of the battleship, fertile soil accumulated from filth.

The rat people have excellent disease resistance, and the accumulated filth has even inexplicably become a kind of ballast.

This is truly an extremely harsh environment.

However, no rat warriors were infected with the disease in this filth. At this time, the falling raindrops washed away all these things.

This turbid water became a trouble. Many surviving ratmen warriors were drowned by the filthy water as soon as they got up.

He choked on the rainwater which was mixed with all kinds of things.

Struggling in the rain.

In response, Sheng Qi ignored it, stood at the bow of the battleship, stood in front of the noisy bell, and laughed crazily.

The raging wind, the pouring rain, the filthy waves, the struggling ratmen warriors, and the laughing Rope Seven.

It forms a wonderful and somewhat incomprehensible picture.

………….

The human coalition was at the position where they were fighting against the rats.

It was a mess, and the human army stationed here had already left.

He left shortly after the battle ended.

Or to be more precise, all the humans in this area left, and under the escort of the surviving knights, the control of this area was voluntarily given up by the humans.

At the beginning, there were scattered figures holding torches coming here one after another, and the Vatican knights who were once active in this area pointed the survivors here.

It's just a pity that after they arrived, all they faced was a mess and a weak guy leaning on a sword.

This weak guy will tell the survivors the true situation.

Although this reality is always so difficult to accept.

The home is ruined, the people are living in a miserable state, and they are wandering in the dark without light, facing only chaos.

Frenzy is not the Skaven's specialty.

All intelligent creatures will experience such emotions under continuous blows.

But the frail fellow held the sword in his hand.

The frantic guys fell down in front of him, and only those who cheered up would be guided, and he became a guide.

But as time passed, fewer and fewer people arrived here, and in the end he never waited for the powerful opponent to leave, and all that was left was silence.

The baron, the capable middle-aged man did not leave, but wandered around the battlefield. He was the only one left wandering around the battlefield.

He was waiting for Shu Zhan, but Shu Zhan never showed up.

He could not defeat Shu Zhan. His poor physical condition made it difficult for him to fight. In other words, he was on the brink of death, but he was struggling to hold on.

Waiting for a battle, waiting for the glory that belongs to him, there is indeed no way to defeat Rat War in the battle, but if he gives up his life, the situation will change slightly.

During these seven days, the gem on his shoulder armor, that ochre-colored gem, has become brighter and brighter, and its dazzling light contains extreme danger.

This is a magic crystal, his achievement, the overlord of the forest, left behind by the Earth Bear driven by the Goblin Kingdom.

It was also the most precious trophy of that battle, a magic crystal that could serve as a long-term inheritance for the family. Even the top nobles would be tempted by it.

Using it as the core of magic pattern armor means that a magic pattern armor can be made that even ordinary people can operate. This is a foundation that can be stored for a long time and is an extremely precious thing.

He mounted it on his shoulder armor.

As a rare core containing a large amount of elemental power, this magic crystal can naturally be detonated.

It would be a heart-shaking bang, although not many people would be so wasteful.

This capable middle-aged man is also a noble. He does not have much ties with most nobles, and he is also arrogant.

For those ordinary guys whom he looked down upon, and also for the numerous ordinary subjects under his command.

He never really lost sight of these guys, even though he promoted many lowly peasants to become knights.

This is not a contradiction. An excellent and brave soldier and a diligent and ordinary farmer do not seem to be equated.

Of course, he was also a guy who was proud of the glory of his bloodline, but he was much more proud than the average noble.

He was unwilling to inherit the family's glory, unwilling to break his promise, and unwilling to let those lowly guys fall behind him.

So I stayed here.

Holding the sword, I wait here, waiting for the rats to appear, waiting for the rat war to come.

He did not leave this precious armor to his family or even his descendants. It was a glory that belonged to him alone.

And it is also the weapon he will use in the duel with Rat War.

It’s just a pity that he didn’t wait for the Rat War to come.

Life was slipping away from him.

Sitting on a tree stump, staring at the darkness in front of him, I don't know what I'm thinking. I feel a little unwilling, but I can't do anything about it.

He let out his first sigh in seven days, and because his helmet had never been removed, the sigh seemed particularly heavy.

Until a fire appeared in the distance.

There was only a little firelight and no noisy sound. It was not a ratman, but a lucky person who came to this destroyed camp.

The middle-aged man's posture did not change, he sat motionless on the tree stump with his sword in his hand, but the fire not far away was getting closer and closer.

As they got closer, the figure holding the torch appeared.

It was also a knight, a somewhat strange knight carrying a pitchfork. He came here from the darkness, wearing an old suit of armor.

This combination makes middle-aged men look sideways.

But there was no further communication between the two of them. The strange knight understood something after seeing the messy venue.

But he was not planning to leave. He picked and chose in the messy camp. Not long after, he came to the middle-aged man with a bundle of wood and some broken but still usable weapons.

The fire was lit, and the strange pitchfork knight sat down. The pitchfork was not thrown away by him, but was carried on his back. The broken weapons were tied together like wood and placed at hand.

Facing the campfire in front of him, he was also in a daze, with a different kind of sorrow.

Neither of them spoke, and they were speechless to each other.

It lasted for a long time, until finally someone broke the quiet atmosphere. The Pitchfork Knight took a bag from his waist, and some white bread was taken out and placed on the fire to bake.

He handed the first baked pancake to the middle-aged man in front of him. The middle-aged man did not take it, nor did he force it. He took the pancake back, pulled open the mask on his helmet, and chewed it in small bites. He ate very carefully and seriously.

After pulling off the mask, a corner of the red and rough face was revealed.

Soon, just as he finished the bread in his hand and was about to leave, the middle-aged man called him.

"Go help me dig a hole!"

The Pitchfork Knight was a little more hesitant about the middle-aged man's words, but he finally did it. Perhaps it was because of the armor on the middle-aged man, or perhaps it was because he had long been accustomed to submitting and listening to the orders of these noble guys.

Soon after, a wide pit was dug out.

The Pitchfork Knight turned his gaze towards the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man sitting upright on the wooden stake once again summoned with unquestionable words.

"come over."

The Hayfork Knight walked over after some hesitation. The two faced each other for the first time. The Hayfork Knight stood in front of the middle-aged man, but he saw that the middle-aged man raised his head. The visor of his helmet was not pulled up, so his expression could not be seen. From his movements, it seemed that the middle-aged man was examining something.

Finally a decision was made.

The sword in his hand was raised up, and the Pitchfork Knight became a little flustered. Faced with this sudden attack, he wanted to grab the pitchfork behind him, but the long sword was faster.

The sword fell on the shoulder of the Hayfork Knight, and the heavy sword forced the Hayfork Knight to kneel in front of the middle-aged man.

"I grant you a title today. You will be a knight, my knight."

This sudden event made the Pitchfork Knight unable to react. He looked at the middle-aged man in front of him in shock, feeling a little at a loss.

But the middle-aged man didn't explain anything.

He threw the sword in his hand to the strange guy in front of him, with a unique sense of fatigue in his words.

"Go to the back. They will need you. Think of a name for yourself. From today on, you are also a knight."

Just like that, just like that, an ordinary farmer suddenly became a noble. This was a less formal reward, and no territory was granted.

But it was just as effective when it came out of the mouth of a middle-aged man. He was a baron and had the right to confer knighthood.

The Pitchfork Knight was somewhat bewildered.

I stood there in a daze, not knowing what to do, but was scolded instead.

A scolding from a middle-aged man.

"Hurry up, you stupid guy!"

Holding the sword, the pitchfork knight looked deeply at the middle-aged man, and without stopping, turned and left.

After the figure of the Pitchfork Knight disappeared into the darkness.

The middle-aged man who lost the sword in his hand stood up with difficulty and staggered towards a dug pit not far away. As a reward for digging a cemetery for himself, he gave the guy the title of knight and his own sword.

Now that you are wearing armor, you might as well become a knight.

Step by step, I came to the pit.

I thought so while I was tired.

This was the last thought.

With a dull sound, he fell heavily into the pit. His posture was not pretty, with his head facing downwards.

If the middle-aged man knew that he would die in this way, he would probably choose to detonate the core on his shoulder in anger and let the magic power grind him into powder. Such an ending seems to be more decent.

It's just a pity that he died.

In the darkness, behind the messy camp, a little fire appeared and gradually approached.

The Pitchfork Knight who had left is back.

The middle-aged man was neatly placed in the pit, even with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

This is the legacy left by an unknown church that has since disappeared. It is said that burying people in this way can make them feel at peace even after death.

The heavy sword became a shovel. The human army here took away most of the useful things when they left. Those slightly intact weapons were the only useful things that could be found in this messy camp.

Not long after, a simple grave appeared on the messy battlefield. The hunchbacked guy left the heavy sword as a tombstone.

After doing all this, the knight carrying the pitchfork left again and walked towards the back of the camp.

Not long after, the rats visited here, and the long-dormant Rat War finally started running again.

His sincerity saved him from a big trouble. Even though the suicide truck might not really hurt Shu Zhan who was holding the black dragon flag, it was estimated that the ratmen around Shu Zhan would be blown to pieces again, leaving Shu Zhan alone again.

If something like this happened, it would drive this manic guy Shuzhan crazy.

His sincerity saved him from a big trouble, although Shu Zhan was unaware of it.

The rats visited this messy camp again. There was nothing good in the camp, but the young rat warriors were still quite excited. One young rat warrior pulled out the long sword that served as a tombstone, and even though it was difficult to swing the heavy sword, he excitedly dragged it on the ground.

Under the order of Rat War, the rats did not stay for too long in this messy place where nothing was left, and left quickly.

The middle-aged man was not dug out from the ground, but after the tombstone was lost, no one would probably know where he was buried.

In this ordinary place.

A guy lies here.

(End of this chapter)