Oh My God! Earthlings are Insane!

The bull-headed warrior blessed by the power of the totem exudes a dazzling bronze metallic luster from top to bottom.

But the ferocious armor that is worn all over the body seems to have biological activity, slowly wriggling in an extremely strange rhythm, exuding an aura ten times more brutal than the totem beast.

Even Ye Zi, the elder brother who could never be defeated, let alone shrink back, trembled from the heart when facing the totem warrior.

The elder brother pulled out the knife vigorously, trying to draw out the bone blade, and then attacked from a different angle.

But the bone blade was tightly bitten by the opponent's muscles and armor.

This slowly wriggling totem armor seemed to have a strange life and a strong appetite, and it actually devoured the bone blade in his brother's hand inch by inch.

In the end, even the handle of the knife was "eaten" by it.

If my brother hadn't let go in time, maybe even his two arms would be eaten by the totem armor!

The elder brother who lost his weapon also seemed to have lost all his strength and courage.

Facing the gap between mortals and gods and demons, my brother was completely desperate.

Fear was like a transparent steel nail, nailed into my brother's Tianling cover, all the way through to the soles of his feet, nailing him firmly in front of the bull-headed warrior, unable to even move.

The tauren warrior slowly raised his right hand, spreading four fingers thicker than Ye Zi's arm.

"Snapped!"

He fanned it down.

There is no need for any moves, it is the most simple and rude, like a slap in the face like an adult teaching a child.

Big blobs of blood burst out from my brother's face and chest.

Hundreds of freshly scabbed wounds burst open again.

The astonishing strange force squeezed out the last drop of blood from his body.

My brother spun around a dozen times in the air.

It fell heavily in front of the leaves.

His appearance became even more miserable than the pickers who fell off the cliff.

Half of the head and the entire chest were deeply sunken.

However, Bai Sensen's bone stubble pierced through dozens of skins and came out from all over his body.

His neck was bent back strangely.

The sharp broken bone split the trachea and blood vessels, leaving only a thin layer of flesh and blood between the head and cavity.

But there was neither breath nor blood gushing from the cut.

The elder brother stared at Ye Zi with such a horrible appearance.

There was no more life in the bloodshot and shattered eyeballs.

There are no more arcs and starbursts that usually shine.

Slightly open, in the bottomless throat, the elder brother's undead said to Ye Zi very weakly:

"Run, leaf, run..."

Being stared at by such an elder brother, Ye Zi lost all courage.

Not only did he lose the courage to swing a knife and fight the enemy desperately.

I also lost the courage to run away.

Just now, the huge steel nail named "Fear" that had pinned his brother to death was also driven in from Ye Zi's sky cap, nailing him to death in a pool of cold blood.

A bull-headed warrior wearing a totem armor strode forward.

Leaf closed her eyes and waited to die.

But waited and waited, the expected severe pain and darkness did not strike.

Instead, he felt a huge, scorching body like a steel statue that had just been cast, lowering its height in front of him.

Leaf opened her eyes.

It was discovered that the bull-headed warrior restored the helmet engraved with the sacred patterns of the ancestors into a totem, then inhaled it again into his body, and turned it into a gorgeous tattoo on his face.

He showed that half hideous face again, and the other half was even more hideous.

But at this moment, there was no trace of cruel malice on this extremely ugly face.

Instead, it is solemn and solemn and extremely devout.

I saw the bull-headed warrior took back the totem armor on his right arm.

The battle armor on the left arm squirmed and condensed into a horned blade.

The sharp blade of the left hand slid lightly on the base of the right palm.

The blood with a slight smell of cattle flowed out immediately, and was carefully poured on the elder brother by the bull-headed warrior. '

The Tauren Warrior watered very seriously.

The demon palm that killed my brother just now poured it over every wound on my brother's body from head to toe, and even helped him spread it evenly.

In the end, the Tauren Warrior dipped in his own blood, managed to find a clean spot on his elder brother's muddy forehead, and drew a hoof-like pattern stroke by stroke.

Although the fingers are thick and clumsy.

But he draws attentively and meticulously.

During the whole process, he kept his head down, neither looked at Ye Zi who was close at hand, nor glanced around, and the slaughter continued.

It seems that for the tauren warrior at this moment, there is no more important thing in the world than drawing hoof patterns.

"This is... the blood giving ceremony!"

Ye Zi recalled that he and his elder brother had heard from the old fool that the high-ranking Turan people could give their own sacred blood containing the divine power of the ancestors to fight bravely and please the low-ranking ones of the ancestors.

It means to use the courage and glory of the superior to help the inferior to expel the despicableness and cowardice deep in the blood.

Since then, the inferiors have shed their past identities and ethnic groups.

Qualified to join the clan of the superior as a servant and embark on a more dangerous and more glorious journey.

After listening to the story of the old fool, Ye Zi and his brother climbed to the tallest mandala tree more than once, wrapped themselves with the largest leaves, rested their heads on their arms, swayed in the breeze, and imagined One day, I can also get the glorious blood of the superior, get rid of the lowly "rat people" status, and become a noble clan warrior, or even a totem warrior blessed by the ancestors.

Unexpectedly, my brother realized his dream so quickly.

Not only got rid of the most humble blood.

He also joined one of the five major clans of Turan, the largest and most powerful "Bloodhoof Clan".

Unfortunately, in the identity of a corpse.

Ye Zi didn't know whether to cry or laugh.

He knew that the tauren warrior would not kill him.

When the old fool was rarely sober, he once told him that the purpose of the totem warrior's battle was to please the ancestor spirits.

Therefore, when they enter the state of "totem madness", they will definitely challenge opponents who are strong enough, or at least brave enough.

Victory or defeat, life and death, are not important.

What matters is courage, courage, blood, and glory.

The reason why the Tauren Warrior summoned the totem armor just now was not because he couldn't beat his brother without armor.

——Even if he didn't summon the totem armor, even if he didn't dodge, dodge or block, his brother's super-level knife still chopped off the bones of the bull-headed warrior.

As long as the other party is serious, with two fingers, he can break his brother's neck.

But the other party probably didn't expect that in a small mountain village of rat people, there would still be people who would dare to swing a knife at him.

His brother's courage moved him, so he used the totem armor to give his brother the honor he deserved.

In the same way, a bull-headed warrior wearing a totem armor would not kill Ye Zi.

Killing such a distraught young man waiting to die would not only fail to please the ancestors, but would actually pollute the power of the sacred totem.

The current Ye Zi didn't even have the qualifications to die at the hands of the Tauren Warrior.

The young man who realized this did not have the slightest joy of surviving after the catastrophe.

On the contrary, he felt that the undead spirits of his mother and brother, as well as An Jia and others among the captives, were all staring at him.

Their gazes were like chains shooting out from the abyss of the undead, tightly binding Ye Zi's hands and feet, and dragging them into the most intense darkness.

...

"Let's go, let's go, you humble rats, if you don't want to die without a place to die, just walk over here!"

Three days later.

On the "Bison River", the most turbulent tributary of the Turan River, near a waterfall with a drop of hundreds of meters and turbulent water, groups of captured rats were crossing the river.

The Bloodhoof warriors brandished spiked oxtail long whips, and beat the frightened rat people to pieces. While tormenting the hearts of the captives with the most vicious curses, they laughed loudly, as if they were watching a game. A fantastic show.

The hands of the rat people's captives were all behind their backs, and they were tied tightly with beef tendon ropes.

The tendon of the beef shrank in contact with the water and embedded itself deeply into the flesh and blood of the captives. The pain caused them to sweat coldly, and it was impossible for them to maintain their balance in the wet and slippery torrent.

Moreover, the captives did not advance alone, but in a file of ten, held in place by straight and elastic datura branches, like a frozen caterpillar.

When the village was burned, almost all the captives suffered injuries of varying severity.

After three days of non-stop trekking, they walked the most rugged mountain roads, and the bloodhoof masters only gave them a little bit of rotten and hard aged mandala fruit to eat.

Many prisoners' wounds festered, their bodies were scorching hot, and they were dying.

More people are hungry, their hands and feet are sore and weak.

Theoretically, in the waist-deep riverbed of the Bison River above the waterfall, there are huge raised boulders that run through the banks and act as stepping stones for them to step on.

The problem is, that is the "waist" of the "Qi" bloodhoof warrior.

Most of the Rat People are several heads or even half shorter than the Bloodhoof Warrior.

For the Bloodhoof Warrior, the waist-deep river water can often reach the rat people's chest, neck and even the top of their heads.

Plus the stepping stones were wet and slippery from the water.

The water above the waterfall is particularly turbulent.

The deafening roar, also like a war hammer studded with spikes, continuously bombarded the heads of the captives, making the rat people who were already in a daze feel even more dizzy.

As soon as many prisoners stepped into the Bison River, they staggered and fell into the icy water.

A string of ten captives, as long as two or three were washed into the river, the others would often be unable to stand, dragged along and slid down the waterfall, smashed to pieces amidst screams, and disappeared without a trace.

The Bloodhoof Warriors didn't care about it at all, and they didn't feel sorry for the captive they had worked so hard to catch, and they were buried in the belly of a fish like this.

Just waved the oxtail whip desperately, urging the remaining captives to cross the river.

"On the other side of the Bison River is the main city of the Bloodhoof Clan, Black Horn City!

"Blackhorn City is a land of heroes, a sacred place, a place of glory, and it must not be defiled by the unclean blood of the cowardly.

"You despicable rats, if you want to go to Blackcorner City, get rid of your dirty blood, and participate in the battle of glory, there is only one way, and that is to go through here!"