The Natural Empire of the Oceanic Dragon

To avoid the minotaurs discovering the centaur scent ahead of time, the Centaur King was leading his people, rather disgustedly, grabbing fresh fish and rubbing it on themselves.

Although Atilan's method was a little disgusting, the Centaur King smelled the pungent fishy smell and knew it was indeed effective. He subconsciously wanted to ask if there were any other ways to mask the scent.

Then he saw the fishmen, under Atilan's command, mixing water and mud to make slurry and smearing it on their bodies.

The Centaur King ran over and asked:

"Is this also to cover up the smell?"

"That's right! The reason I brought these two hundred catties of fresh fish is because of their fishy smell! Use the fishy smell to cover up your centaur scent, and use the mud to cover up the fishmen's fishy smell."

"The source of the fishy smell will only be fresh fish and fishmen. There are more fishmen, as long as it's not hundreds of fishmen fighting together, the minotaurs won't be afraid."

"But you centaurs are different. The scent of more than a dozen centaurs will definitely arouse their vigilance, which is not conducive to our rescue operation."

At this time, the goat-man and the tiger-man finally arrived. Looking at the goat-man with sweat on his forehead, Atilan smiled and pointed to the mud pit.

"Please, my trickster, your scent must have been remembered by the minotaurs. Cover it up with mud so you can successfully sneak into the minotaur camp and rescue the apprentice."

The goat-man helplessly, resolutely, and with the spirit of facing death, walked towards the mud pit. Halfway there, he suddenly turned his head to look at the tiger-man and said:

"If Tahr is going to sneak in with me, does he need to smear it on too?"

The tiger-man glanced at the mud pit with disgust, and proudly raised her head, saying:

"No need, a monk has his own techniques for eliminating aura, no need for such low-end methods."

After saying that, the tiger-man formed a meditative mudra, and her aura instantly merged with the surrounding environment. If you didn't look with your eyes, you would subconsciously think that the tiger-man's standing position was a tree.

With just a slight move, you can tell whether he has any skills. Atilan didn't expect that this tigress would have improved so much after being angered by him to the point of vomiting blood last time. It seems that he must also practice harder.

With everything ready, Atilan first flew to the high sky. The barbarian fishmen, along with ten bone-fork fishmen, pushed a cart, wobbling towards the minotaur camp.

From time to time, some fishy lake water would be sprinkled on the ground from the wooden barrels, so that the whole road began to be filled with fishy smell, making it easier for the remaining fishmen and centaurs to secretly approach the minotaur camp.

The slow speed of their advance was to buy time for the goat-man and tiger-man.

Looking at more than a dozen fishmen approaching the camp with tattered weapons, the two minotaurs arranged to guard the gate laughed.

Some fishmen among the laborers, because they envied the iron spears, worked hard to train and successfully became level 1 warriors, but what is a level 1 fishman warrior in front of a 2.2-meter-tall minotaur?

If the opponent hits them with a stick, the fishman might have broken bones and die on the spot.

The panic on their faces was real.

The only calm one was the fishman barbarian. Although he probably couldn't beat the gate-guarding minotaurs either, these gate-guarding minotaurs were assigned to guard the gate because they were the shortest, which meant their strength was the weakest.

Tribes with insufficient intelligence always like to divide status according to height.

Like the minotaur chief, his 3.5-meter height was as terrifying as a demon to the fishmen.

When he walked out of the camp with white gas spraying from his nostrils, his copper bell-like eyes glared fiercely at the fishmen.

"Listen well, pathetic fishmen, you must deliver this much fresh fish every month from now on, otherwise we will chase to your tribe and beat everyone in your tribe to death with the totem poles in our hands!"

"Understand?"

The fishman barbarian gritted his teeth and looked at the minotaur chief. Only now did he understand why the other party would ask to send fresh fish in exchange for hostages, because the minotaurs wanted to subdue them as a slave tribe!

"Want us to be your slaves, dream on!"

Faced with the unruly fishman barbarian, the minotaur chief grinned, revealing a ferocious and brutal smile, and stomped his foot fiercely, the earth trembled like a small earthquake.

"If it's in the water, I can't do anything to you fishmen, but on land, can you fishmen still escape?"

Just then, an angry and panicked roar came from the minotaur camp.

"Not good, the fishmen are running away!"

The minotaur chief's face changed.

"Idiots!"

Sure enough, the fishmen at the gate immediately turned around and ran away when they heard the shout, but they didn't forget the fresh fish they brought. In their panic, the cart was unstable, and the wooden barrels filled with fresh fish fell from the cart, and fresh fish and stinky water were scattered all over the ground.

"Chase, don't let these fishmen run away!"

Along with the minotaur chief's roar, all the minotaurs in the camp, regardless of gender, poured out. What moved them was not the chief's order, but the fresh fish jumping on the ground.

Except for a small number of minotaurs who still knew to follow the chief, the other stupid minotaurs bent down and grabbed the fresh fish and began to tear and bite, enjoying the sweetness of the fish.

Seeing the minotaurs chasing up, the fishman barbarian threw the wooden barrels filled with fresh fish to both sides of the road, and the other fishmen grabbed the wooden barrels filled with mucus and poured the mucus on the dirt road.

After the minotaurs stepped on it, sure enough, some people were uncomfortable with the suddenly slippery road and fell, and the stinky mucus made them furious. They climbed up with their hands and feet, and fell again after running a few steps.

The amount of mucus was limited, and the last barrier was the cart.

But the cart didn't even last two seconds. The minotaur chief waved his totem pole and smashed the cart. At this time, he keenly felt that something was wrong. Looking back, there were not many minotaurs following him.

Most of the people were not listening to his instructions and were eating fish, and even fighting each other for the fish.

After all, they were a race with an intelligence of only 7, and a little trickery made them fall into chaos.

The race's unique cunning characteristics made the minotaurs worry that if they chased after them, the others would stay and steal the fish, so they simply stopped to eat as well.

Anyway, they were just some fishmen, the chief would definitely be fine.

In the high sky, Atilan didn't expect his plan to be so effective. He originally thought that the fresh fish could only leave a few minotaurs behind, but he didn't expect it to leave nearly twenty, and seven or eight minotaurs trapped by the mucus.

Only the real elite minotaurs chased after them.

According to the prior instructions, the fishman barbarian began to talk trash.

"Big dumb cow, can your cow hooves only run this fast? Didn't you want to beat me into meatloaf and eat me? Why don't you chase me anymore? I think I'll cut off your cow hooves and roast them! Hahaha ~"

Sure enough, the minotaur chief's eyes turned red, and he roared and rushed towards the fishman barbarian.

After chasing for dozens of meters, a series of arrows shot towards the minotaur chief. Even though he tried his best to wave the totem pole, he was still shot in the arms and chest by several arrows, and the most fatal arrow was the one shot in his knee, which stuck his leg and prevented him from moving freely.

Such a divine shot, it could only be the Centaur King!

"Despicable! Come over and fight me if you have the guts!"

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