The ancient altar still emanated a mysterious aura, but the most important thing inside had already been taken by him. What remained was just an empty shell.
Al ran toward the exit. He could vaguely see faint dots of light at the cave mouth.
As he got closer, he gradually heard some sounds.
The closer he got to the exit, the clearer the sounds became. Until Al could clearly perceive that they were distinct shouts of killing and the clash of blades. His steps paused for a moment, but he steeled himself and decided to go out first.
Al casually grabbed a relatively hard branch to hold in his hand and cautiously approached the cave entrance to look outside.
What met his eyes was a field littered with corpses.
The surrounding trees that had provided cover had been destroyed by irresistible violence, like a parking lot swept by a tornado.
The brutality of the scene made even Al—a big boy who had grown up in a peaceful era for thirty years before his reincarnation—tremble with shock!
This was a cold-weapon battlefield with no rules, no restraints, whose only purpose was to kill the opponent. And the two sides fighting were not entirely human. At least when humans lost they could still leave behind intact limbs, not the minced meat and bone fragments scattered everywhere.
The centaur girl panted, raised her warhammer with both hands and brought it back. All that remained in place were a pair of intact legs and an almost flattened upper body.
Her braids lay scattered on her shoulders. The bandages binding her chest were soaked with blood. Her close-fitting leather armor was covered in wounds. Around her already lay many corpses—swordsmen, spearmen, knights, and even two massive, ferocious griffons that were no smaller than the centaur girl herself.
One had its skull caved in, brains mixed with feathers and blood dripping from the hole in its head. The other looked slightly better—its wing had been chopped off by a curved blade before it was beheaded.
There were not only human corpses around. There were horned beastmen and crimson rage-tainted beasts. And those beastmen were not the Chaos-corrupted chaos beasts, but ones with stable forms who leaned toward orderly and peaceful Shepherd believers!
"Blood—!"
The centaur girl raised her warhammer and roared hoarsely.
"Sacrifice to the Bloodmother!"
She charged out, swinging her warhammer and sending a halberdier flying. She then backhanded another halberdier's incoming polearm, lifted him up, and hurled him behind her.
A rage-tainted beast stepped forward, swung its greatsword, chopped off the halberdier's head, picked it up, and raised it high.
"Blood! Mother!"
The surviving beastmen around the centaur girl—whether Shepherd believers or Chaos followers—were all inspired by this battle cry that awakened the wildest, most warlike emotions in their hearts. They launched a counterattack, repelling the heavily wounded imperial troops and driving them out of this woodland that was originally their home field.
The centaur girl lowered her warhammer, let out a long breath, turned around, and noticed Al who had already walked out of the cave and was staring at her in a daze. She froze for a moment.
In the distance behind her, a man with a broken leg was frantically reloading his musket.
He finally finished loading, pulled the bolt, and pulled the trigger.
The firing pin struck. Gunpowder exploded.
"Bang!"
Smoke cleared from the muzzle. A copper bullet hit the edge of the centaur girl's right arm, leaving a bloody graze.
The gunman watched his desperate shot fail. His face turned ashen.
A beastman raised a spear and charged at him. He used his last strength to lift his musket to block, but it was knocked aside and the spear pierced his chest.
The gunman powerlessly released the weapon he had treated as his life and fell onto this foreign soil.
The centaur girl glanced back, then walked toward Al.
She skillfully placed the youth back on her back, picked up her warhammer with her left hand, and moved slowly. It no longer looked like a battlefield but more like she was sightseeing.
"What happened?"
Al looked at the wounds on the centaur girl's body. There were also injuries on her back, seeping quite a lot of blood.
Al suddenly felt a very uncomfortable tightness in his chest.
Was this… heartache?
"You were inside for three days."
The centaur girl's words startled Al.
"Three days? But I…"
Al took a deep breath. He didn't know whether this was Be'lakor's or the All-Knowing One's influence.
"Those humans rode griffons and pegasi and launched a surprise attack on the camp. The tribe has been burned down. Thar led the survivors fleeing deeper into the forest. They came specifically for us and were tracked by the humans."
Alina seemed tired as well. She walked to a large tree, bent her hooves, and half-lay, half-sat down. Al stood in front of her, gazing at the devastated battlefield.
"This… this…"
Have these imperials gone completely Sigmar-brained? Killing Chaos is one thing… wait, I myself am Chaos.
They even kill Shepherd believers?
Al felt some horror. If they couldn't even tolerate orderly beastmen, then for someone like him who was dripping with Chaos corruption from head to toe, wouldn't they want to exterminate him completely?
Absolutely intolerable! They must strike hard…
Run!
Al calculated in his mind. He was joking—that was several thousand imperial regular troops with infantry, artillery, muskets, cavalry, and even griffons and pegasi!
Such a complete force was enough to fight a medium-scale battle. With just him, Alina, and the beastmen under them who had already suffered nearly half casualties, the imperials could wipe them out even if they traded three for one.
Not to mention the enemy had superior equipment, discipline, and tactics.
It was basically regular troops colonizing the New World and bullying natives. Even if Archaon or Sigmar came, they would still have to run.
In the Old World, the lethality of ranged weapons—especially against commanders and duelists—was greatly reduced.
All commanders and warlords who no longer had to worry about suddenly dying to arrows shot by Wood Elves, Ungor raiders, or goblins should thank the curve-loving K-party for that.
If the gunman earlier had used a bow, the arrow wouldn't even have scratched Alina's skin before being deflected. But bullets had powerful penetration and speed, which to some extent weakened that "special protection" effect for commanders.
Anyway, they could first link up with Thar and the others. After the imperials finished burning and killing they should withdraw. We are not their target. They just need something to report back to their faith. They can't possibly be crazy enough to exterminate a beastman tribe root and branch deep in the forest, right?
Al thought about it and felt that the commander on the other side—who was technically his half-uncle—probably wasn't that insane.
The fighting on the battlefield had completely died down. A small number of imperials had fled into the forest, while the beastmen—who were almost all wounded—couldn't pursue effectively. They could only hope the humans were unlucky and got left behind in the forest by poisonous insects and fierce beasts of the Pina Forest.
Thinking that battles would likely happen again later, Al first did a quick headcount.
He didn't know how the blessing judged it, but even the Shepherd believers who had been sent to look for him and the centaur girl—and who did not belong to his and Alina's command—were counted in his faction. The benefit was that he could see their markers on the map.
Nine rage-tainted beasts, forty-three ordinary Shepherd-worshipping beastmen, goatmen, horned beastmen, wolfmen, plus three centaurs and one minotaur. That added up to fifty-six.
Then there were the ever-chaotic Chaos beastmen who were either fighting each other, eating, or venting their mating urges on their companions. This group was the largest—one hundred and eight.
This interesting number made Al raise an eyebrow.
The Pina Forest was no natural garden. Naturally born beastmen and giant beasts appeared endlessly. Naturally born beastmen without guidance easily fell into blind worship of Chaos due to their instincts. In the mortal world where Chaos corruption was thin, they would naturally be drawn to the largest source of corruption around them and gather on their own.
Since Al had never heard Thar or Alina mention any other beastman tribes in the surrounding area, all the naturally born destroyer-vanguard beastmen in the vicinity would keep coming to join Zharkhan before, and now join Alina and Al.
Less than two hundred in total. This was the fighting strength Al could currently command.
Compared to Archaon, who could casually send tens of thousands south, east, or west, it seemed a little lacking.
"It's a good start!"
Al comforted himself.
Then, because they were eating the corpses of the fallen, two Shepherd believers and one Chaos beastman started brawling. The momentum between the two factions also began to grow tense.
These guys, stimulated by the blood and carnage of battle and with their wild nature fully awakened, had much worse tempers than before. Even the seemingly honest and gentle minotaur could no longer suppress the slaughtering urge from its bloodline instincts and would kill—or even devour—enemies with cruel methods.
Just look at his own forces: Chaos believers, New Chaos believers, and orderly-side Shepherd believers—all three sides mixed together. It would already be a miracle if they didn't start fighting.
Al slapped his forehead.
Headache.