Chapter 1047 The Pleasure of Slaanesh

How to describe Orseya's fighting style?

She inherited her father's excellent fighting instincts. She was a bully in Windwhistle City since she was a child. After going to Flame Tower for further studies, her irritable heart has never changed.

A unique style that belongs to Caledor, a perfect embodiment of coldness and violence.

After giving the order to charge, the eldest lady did not use a concentrated pyroblast to attack the Slaanesh members like a regular battle mage. This method is too old-fashioned. She prefers the most direct way to kill the enemy.

After praying to Adaeus who controls the flames, Orseya ignored the low humming sound in her ears. The flames gradually flowed out from the long sword, and the weapons of the cavalrymen who accompanied her were all flashing with the hot flames of Aksha.

Flames are the nemesis of all life. While symbolizing hope and light, they also bring destruction and death.

The speed of the half-griffin knights is extremely fast. The specially cultivated species is larger than their compatriots in the old world. They often live and fight with the white lions of Chrace, which makes the chickens more ferocious than the lion group.

As a product to make up for the lack of impact of Asur's cavalry, the half-griffin knights are worthy of the careful training over the years. The fierce beasts rushed straight to the messy wooden fence with an unstoppable momentum.

The heavy breastplate smashed the fence, and the wood chips scattered in the air, temporarily blinding the rider's vision.

And this change has long attracted the attention of the followers of Slaanesh. As the most sensitive group of followers of the Chaos Evil God, they are far more sensitive than the stupid Nurgle members.

Just now, lying on the ground and doing something pleasant was just to deceive the elves who wanted to sneak attack.

But they never dreamed that the main charge of the elven cavalry would be half-griffins, and they didn't expect that half-griffins would forcibly hit the "city wall" with their flesh and blood.

The sharp cry like an eagle broke the silence first. After a wave of painless spear attacks, the beautiful feathers of the half-griffin were stained with a lot of blood, part of which came from its own wounds, but more from the enemy.

The steel claws tore the northern barbarians who lacked armor protection. The knights' superb martial arts were no less than the silver helmet knights. After the vision returned to normal, the long halberds often blocked the spears attacking the mounts at a tricky angle, or provoked a northern barbarian who didn't know how to live or die, and let the half-griffin use the iron beak to drill through the head.

After tearing the line, the half-griffin knight began to stop charging and shrink the formation to give the companions behind room to play.

Orseya pointed his long sword forward, and the followers who had been waiting for the eldest lady's order for a long time burst out with an impact comparable to that of a dragon car. The nearly four-meter-long lances were as light as nothing in their hands, rushing into the gap opened by the half-griffin knight in a prismatic shape.

The oak shield reinforced by chaos energy was pierced the moment it hit the lance. The divine weapon wrapped in flames tore the dirty heart of the Slaanesh member, and continued to move forward with its remaining power.

Among them, Orseya's performance was the most outstanding. As the spearhead of the prismatic formation, she always brought a strong wind of flames when she swung her sword. The drifting flames stuck to the enemy's body like maggots on the tarsal bones, and won the honor of the family in waves of wailing.

The encounter did not last long. It was originally a pioneer team of elite soldiers. Facing a small war gang that seemed to be excluded, it naturally had an unquestionable crushing momentum.

It should be noted that every Asur warrior here is a veteran and extremely proficient in fighting. The posture when swinging the weapon every time is enough to be used as a textbook model for lower races.

As a warband, there are naturally so-called champion warriors in the camp. Don't break down how many champion warriors there are in the northern Chaos Barbarians. The numerous tribes and warbands make this title extremely ridiculous. Except for some strong men favored by the Chaos Gods, there is almost no gold content.

The champion warrior swinging a long whip with an elegant posture, riding a purple-skinned warhorse polluted by the breath of Slaanesh, stared at Orseya with naked eyes full of strong desire.

Knowing how to appreciate beauty is a compulsory course for every Slaanesh member, and the beauty presented by Orseya in battle is something the champion warrior has never seen in his life.

Such elegance, impatience, and lethality, like a deadly poison lingering in the heart, a beauty is sleeping in the thorns.

"Elf, be my partner! We will enjoy the pleasure of the Dark Prince together until the end of the world!"

"Spend money." Orseya insulted without disguising. This is a word she learned from humans. It feels very suitable for these Slaanesh things. They are all pure big spenders.

The insulted champion warrior was like a spring breeze, turning a blind eye to the slaughter of his men, opening his arms and shouting, "What a beautiful sound, it's like a whip scratching my heart, being tightly entangled by the thorny iron ring, letting me experience the ultimate happiness."

"Now I understand why my father and others are reluctant to talk about the Great Crusade and Slaanesh..." For the first time, Orseya felt extremely disgusted. This northern barbarian was countless times more disgusting than a rat. Nurgle members would show their unsightly dignity on the battlefield with an ugly face and stench, which made people feel disgusted physically.

But Slaanesh members are definitely disgusting from the bottom of their hearts, and they are disgusting even if they are about to die.

Orseya, whose good mood was destroyed, did not hesitate to reward the northern barbarian with a super magic fireball. He thought he could hear a comforting scream before he died, but there was actually a wild laugh in the flames.

This wild laugh was extremely harsh, as if he was enjoying something extremely pleasant.

In order to shut up the northern barbarians, Orseya took the trouble to rain fire again, turning this filthy camp into ruins.

The follower who was loyal to Adonis drove his horse slowly to Orseye with blood all over his body, and said with a little worry,

"Miss, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Uncle Slatin, don't think I'm too fragile. What happened in the old world is much more serious than this farce."

Slater nodded without denying it. He had already felt that the little girl was different from before. As an old man who had served the family for hundreds of years, he was trusted by the head of the family.

I thought that the young lady who only had experience in the city defense army would not be able to adapt to the battlefield environment, but I didn't expect that in just a few decades, the once proud female dragon has become a warrior who can fight alone.

The follower looked at the surrounding environment and thought that he should not go deeper. According to the information from the champion warrior, Azazel had not taken the initiative to attack after landing in Oshuan, and had always occupied a corner of the western border of Terenrock to accumulate strength.

With the mobility of the followers of Slaanesh, as long as they react quickly, they can quickly encircle and suppress the advance team.

"We should join the main force. It is not a good idea to engage in mobile warfare with the followers of Slaanesh."

"Well, retreat. We still have a lot of things to do."