The Legend of Fatality

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& gt; Chapter 146 The Book of Battles Outside the Hotel Bookmark Comments 144 Chapter Fighting Outside the Hotel

Fiction: Legend of Fata Lin: Beijing North mediocre Word Count: 2425

The ground where the undead in front stood was covered with dirt, sparkling and sticky. The 35xs air is disgusting and full of thick rotten smell. The white bones are embedded in the ground, and its eye sockets are like oil pools. Various bodies lay on the ground, both men and women, naked like babies, smeared with dirt.

"Come with me." Eichmann said coldly, looking at the results in front of him, waiting for the people around him to recover.

Ganderner blinked, and his eyes kept bursting with tears. He saw Etchermann smiling at him.

"You closed your eyes too slowly," Eichmann said.

"Damn, why didn't you say that early." The mercenary captain complained.

"You won't understand." Eichmann's smile disappeared.

He continued to chase the red light, checking the deployment of his men in the corner of his eyes. His boots stepped on the filthy ground, and when he lifted it, he followed long mucus.

"Don't do it again." Gandner hissed, staring at the red light heading.

When they caught up with the red light, they found it was a man, a tall and strong man. Wearing a thick fur cape, and wearing a pointed hat like the mage, shabby and terrible. Down the cloak was a dirty black robe. A long wooden stick was held tightly in his hand. At the top was a head that kept discharging fluid, and the skin on the face of the head was wrinkled like plums. 35xs

Two heavy, rusty chains hang from the sides of the corner of its mouth. The chains are intertwined and wrapped around the wooden staff, just like two mating snakes.

This man has a long face and looks like an old man with an old man's beard. The position of one eye glowed with red light that Echmann had been chasing. There was a crested emblem on the shrunken head. It hung from his bare forehead.

"Damn mage." Ganderner spit out the word.

Echermann felt his heart sink.

Behind this evil mage, there are more monsters and humans. Staggering out of the cloud caused by the flames, tightly covering their eyes. Some people seem to be able to see that they all raised their rough weapons with shaking hands.

These humans are in a terrible state, with hundreds of wounds bleeding and faltering, as if they had been given a lot of medicine. But they were still heading in the direction of Eichmann.

"Stand up!" Eichmann commanded, seeing the tight expression on his soldier's face.

"We are men! As the masters of this world, we will win."

The enemies came soon, and there was no order in their progress. Whether it was a monster or a human, a group of people rushed over from the mage and dragged their bodies. The humans whispered to themselves, stroking the weapon with thin, thick fingers. 35xs empty banners swayed above them, dirty white above, without any sign.

"For the glory of mankind!" Decher growled loudly, broke out of the front, and rushed towards the enemy. The two-handed swordsmen beside him threw away the halberd and rushed towards the enemy along with him.

"Pick up their halberds! Hold them to the right, don't let this **** fool be surrounded!" Ganderner had to shout at the remaining mercenaries.

The soldiers who followed Renn's charge were to fill the left wing of the team. Aichenman fired a shot at the evil mage, but missed it. He had to reload it in situ. He knew that if this mage was not solved, then there would only be more monsters.

They rushed directly to the enemy, roaring words full of power and hatred. When they reached the enemy, they broke through the enemy's formation with astonishing violence. They hacked and hacked with their long swords and threw the cut limbs back to the enemy.

The undead responded slowly, and the soldiers in the first row were taken away by the sudden impact, knocked down, and stepped into the **** mud. The enemy fell in chaos, was crushed under his feet, and was split by the blade. The two armies are like two big rivers rushing together, mixed in a pile of struggling limbs and shiny metal.

The undead approached them with their weird, almost silent pace. Facts have proved that they are as difficult to kill as every previous action. Only beheading and almost complete dismemberment are enough to stop them.

Even after suffering a huge trauma-their corrupt limbs were torn from their bodies, their swollen bodies were torn, and their bones were broken-they will continue to stagger forward and stretch out long Nails or holding up rusty blades.

Even after they were cut down, they crawled across the mud on all fours, biting their ankles and pulling their tendons. When their meat cleavers and pitchforks are knocked out of their hands, they use their fingers and teeth.

The witch hunters know that no one can survive unless they win. Neither side has the concepts of fear, retreat and restraint. The eyes were dug out, the throat was torn, the ribs were split, and the chin was crushed.

An undead warrior thrust a sword into the belly of a screaming two-handed swordsman, twisting the sword up in half. The man's upper body turned into a pile of exposed internal organs and organs. He roared to resist, grabbed the murderer's ankle, and dragged it to the same height as himself. With a last breath of madness, he snapped the skull of the undead warrior off the spine. The two of them hugged each other and fell to the ground, merging into a growing pool of flesh and bones.

If left unchecked, the two armies may destroy each other. However, the difference between them is Rennes. No matter where he went on the battlefield, the soldiers were incited to a degree of madness. As they fought, they shouted his name loudly.

He always leads them. Although they rush forward as fast as possible, he is always ahead of them. His warhammer was bleak, and only a dark arc could be seen in the afterglow of the flames. Ryan threw the body of an undead warrior into the night sky, smashed them, and left the rest to the soldiers beside him for cleaning. He continued to move forward, rushing towards the evil mage.

Eichmann saw the other eye of the mage in the dark, it was pale green. When it looked at him, it smiled happily. It licked its chapped lips, and it saluted him in the open space in the middle of the monster.

Then, the evil mage began to recite the mantra, and Echermann could hear its strange tone.

The evil mage stumbled towards him, blasphemy at every throat, and the ground beneath his feet began to ripple like water. Dark sewage emerged from the cracks, forming tentacles, insect claws and humanoid fingers. These things are tied to the members of the witch hunter's team, dragging them and preventing them from moving on.

Eichmann took out his pistol and aimed at the opponent's heart.

The evil mage spit out the last word. The sewage on the ground erupted and flowed to Eichmann as a tide, obscuring his vision. The tide finally rushed over him, wrapping Eichmann in completely.

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The ground where the undead in front stood was covered with dirt, sparkling and sticky. The 35xs air is disgusting and full of thick rotten smell. The white bones are embedded in the ground, and its eye sockets are like oil pools. Various bodies lay on the ground, both men and women, naked like babies, smeared with dirt.

"Come with me." Eichmann said coldly, looking at the results in front of him, waiting for the people around him to recover.

Ganderner blinked, and his eyes kept bursting with tears. He saw Etchermann smiling at him.

"You closed your eyes too slowly," Eichmann said.

"Damn, why didn't you say that early." The mercenary captain complained.

"You won't understand." Eichmann's smile disappeared.

He continued to chase the red light, checking the deployment of his men in the corner of his eyes. His boots stepped on the filthy ground, and when he lifted it, he followed long mucus.

"Don't do it again." Gandner hissed, staring at the red light heading.

When they caught up with the red light, they found it was a man, a tall and strong man. Wearing a thick fur cape, and wearing a pointed hat like the mage, shabby and terrible. Down the cloak was a dirty black robe. A long wooden stick was held tightly in his hand. At the top was a head that kept discharging fluid, and the skin on the face of the head was wrinkled like plums. 35xs

Two heavy, rusty chains hang from the sides of the corner of its mouth. The chains are intertwined and wrapped around the wooden staff, just like two mating snakes.

This man has a long face and looks like an old man with an old man's beard. The position of one eye glowed with red light that Echmann had been chasing. There was a crested emblem on the shrunken head. It hung from his bare forehead.

"Damn mage." Ganderner spit out the word.

Echermann felt his heart sink.

Behind this evil mage, there are more monsters and humans. Staggering out of the cloud caused by the flames, tightly covering their eyes. Some people seem to be able to see that they all raised their rough weapons with shaking hands.

These humans are in a terrible state, with hundreds of wounds bleeding and faltering, as if they had been given a lot of medicine. But they were still heading in the direction of Eichmann.

"Stand up!" Eichmann commanded, seeing the tight expression on his soldier's face.

"We are men! As the masters of this world, we will win."

The enemies came soon, and there was no order in their progress. Whether it was a monster or a human, a group of people rushed over from the mage and dragged their bodies. The humans whispered to themselves, stroking the weapon with thin, thick fingers. 35xs empty banners swayed above them, dirty white above, without any sign.

"For the glory of mankind!" Decher growled loudly, broke out of the front, and rushed towards the enemy. The two-handed swordsmen beside him threw away the halberd and rushed towards the enemy along with him.

"Pick up their halberds! Hold them to the right, don't let this **** fool be surrounded!" Ganderner had to shout at the remaining mercenaries.

The soldiers who followed Renn's charge were to fill the left wing of the team. Aichenman fired a shot at the evil mage, but missed it. He had to reload it in situ. He knew that if this mage was not solved, then there would only be more monsters.

They rushed directly to the enemy, roaring words full of power and hatred. When they reached the enemy, they broke through the enemy's formation with astonishing violence. They hacked and hacked with their long swords and threw the cut limbs back to the enemy.

The undead responded slowly, and the soldiers in the first row were taken away by the sudden impact, knocked down, and stepped into the **** mud. The enemy fell in chaos, was crushed under his feet, and was split by the blade. The two armies are like two big rivers rushing together, mixed in a pile of struggling limbs and shiny metal.

The undead approached them with their weird, almost silent pace. Facts have proved that they are as difficult to kill as every previous action. Only beheading and almost complete dismemberment are enough to stop them.

Even after suffering a huge trauma-their corrupt limbs were torn from their bodies, their swollen bodies were torn, and their bones were broken-they will continue to stagger forward and stretch out long Nails or holding up rusty blades.

Even after they were cut down, they crawled across the mud on all fours, biting their ankles and pulling their tendons. When their meat cleavers and pitchforks are knocked out of their hands, they use their fingers and teeth.

The witch hunters know that no one can survive unless they win. Neither side has the concepts of fear, retreat and restraint. The eyes were dug out, the throat was torn, the ribs were split, and the chin was crushed.

An undead warrior thrust a sword into the belly of a screaming two-handed swordsman, twisting the sword up in half. The man's upper body turned into a pile of exposed internal organs and organs. He roared and resisted, grabbed the murderer's ankle, and dragged it to the same height as himself. With a last breath of madness, he snapped the skull of the undead warrior off the spine. The two of them hugged each other and fell to the ground, merging into a growing pool of flesh and bones.

If left unchecked, the two armies may destroy each other. However, the difference between them is Rennes. No matter where he went on the battlefield, the soldiers were incited to a degree of madness. As they fought, they shouted his name loudly.

He always leads them. Although they rush forward as fast as possible, he is always ahead of them. His warhammer was bleak, and only a dark arc could be seen in the afterglow of the flames. Ryan threw the body of an undead warrior into the night sky, smashed them, and left the rest to the soldiers beside him for cleaning. He continued to move forward, rushing towards the evil mage.

Eichmann saw the other eye of the mage in the dark, it was pale green. When it looked at him, it smiled happily. It licked its chapped lips, and it saluted him in the open space in the middle of the monster.

Then, the evil mage began to recite the mantra, and Echermann could hear its strange tone.

The evil mage stumbled towards him, blasphemy at every throat, and the ground beneath his feet began to ripple like water. Dark sewage emerged from the cracks, forming tentacles, insect claws and humanoid fingers. These things are tied to the members of the witch hunter's team, dragging them and preventing them from moving on.

Eichmann took out his pistol and aimed at the opponent's heart.

The evil mage spit out the last word. The sewage on the ground erupted and flowed to Eichmann as a tide, obscuring his vision. The tide finally rushed over him, wrapping Eichmann in completely.