Warhammer Fantasy: I Have Total War System

Chapter 88 The Wail of Victory

"Junior brother, what do you mean by this?" Yue Pengrui's voice was full of confusion.

"I'm doing this for your own good."

"You act too rashly and without any consideration for others, making no distinction between those who can be moved and those who cannot."

"If we lose here today, we must return the goods that are owed to us. Only then will we have the opportunity to apologize and make amends when we return to Nangao."

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Li Lin's mind flashed back to those unscrupulous merchants who were driving up grain prices, and to the wealthy and powerful nobles at the front of the line who were indulging in lavish feasts.

Resentment and contempt for them are certainly among the reasons for not wanting to admit defeat.

But the biggest reason can be summed up in two words: the desire to win.

He was well aware that he had made many rash and wrong decisions along the way.

But there's a famous saying among gamers: "Losing makes you a war criminal, winning makes you a hero."

"Although I have committed countless evils and turned countless races into meat cans for power generation, as long as I have the ability to flatten the world, I am still a savior with a noble soul."

As long as he can win.

Win battles that others cannot win.

You can crush anyone's difficulties with your fists!

Suddenly, several gusts of fierce wind carrying powerful energy swept across the plain to the north where the martial arts practitioners were fighting.

Yue Pengrui assumed it was Li Lin's support and immediately activated his protective qi. However, the Golden Gate expert beside him remained calm and showed no reaction.

The raging storm swept past the group and crashed down on the back of Li Lin's two infantry units, creating a crater about half a person's height in the ground.

Several An Guan cavalrymen who couldn't dodge in time were either hit by the raging storm like a mortar shell or plunged into the pit, resulting in a chaotic scene of men and horses falling over.

Two modules were lost, and a few hundred HP was lost.

Now, Shen Du's last resort was also broken.

If these heavily armored cavalrymen can successfully launch a rear attack, they might be able to unleash a performance far exceeding the game's limitations.

But there are no "ifs".

Due to the unfavorable terrain, the cavalrymen were forced to dismount and fight on foot.

The bearmen were like fearless punching bags. Although the thirty infantrymen of Anguan had the advantage of heavy armor and attributes, they were immediately surrounded by the vast sea of ​​bearmen as soon as they made contact with the bearmen's lines and could not pose a threat.

An Guanqi, facing nearly fifty duelists from Vespero, was in an even worse situation.

The duelists were full of energy and were experts in infantry melee combat. Under the amplification aura of Li Lin [Tactical Expert], their defense was 16 points higher than that of the infantry cavalry's attack. That is, if the enemy slashed five times, only one slash might hit.

The hundreds of attacks made their strikes blaze like fire.

The two sides clashed. Vespero's duelists, with their agile movements, danced nimbly through the craters, emitting mocking sneers as they quickly separated the twenty-eight Anguan cavalry, creating one-on-one or multi-on-few local battles.

These Tyrians hid behind cloaks that even the finest iron sabers couldn't tear, appearing and disappearing like ghosts. Every time they waved their cloaks like matadors, a short sword would precisely pierce through the weak points of the heavily armored cavalry.

Within moments, several heavily armored foot cavalrymen were killed on the spot.

At the front of the battlefield, the encirclement formed by the bear-men troops and the Golfag man-eaters was like a gluttonous beast entering the kitchen of a Chinese cooking master, swiftly and decisively defeating the guards' soldiers.

The bearmen's attention began to shift to the guards on the flanks, who were wielding greatswords. The man-eaters were undisciplined, and their mercenary instincts kept their attention on the deserters, trying to capture prisoners to serve as food or as bargaining chips, rather than changing their target to support their allies.

The last Guardian troops were simultaneously enduring a frontal assault by the Bearmen forces and a flanking attack by the Tirian duelists.

The defeat of their allies and the formidable enemy who were not at all inferior greatly shook the morale of these Cindan troops, and defeat was inevitable.

In this military exercise, Li Lin proved himself once again. He accurately predicted Shen Du's every reaction and won the battle on the front lines with an almost overwhelming advantage. Finally, his idea of ​​having the Zhen Dan martial artists in the distance use their qi to create terrain advantages was a stroke of genius.

But the more this is the case, the more regrettable it becomes.

"It seems Junior Brother is determined to win." Yue Pengrui's voice grew colder.

"Since that's the case, don't blame your senior brother for being ruthless."

He cupped his hands in greeting to the Golden Gate expert beside him: "Make your move, Master Luan. As long as you don't harm my junior brother's life, any method is acceptable."

The middle-aged man in purple nodded slightly.

"Click"

Li Lin's entire palm suddenly twisted.

At first, the feeling was very unreal, like some accessory on my body had broken.

He only felt a sharp pain when he saw his right hand twisted into a pretzel.

He groaned, clenched his teeth, and stifled a scream.

"Bring it on!" he thought. "The worst that can happen is I'll just die again! Anyway, I have the power of all spirits."

It’s over.

The resurrection item was used on Xing Ganqi.

This time, if he dies, he's really dead.

Uh, is it possible for Sister Soul Dragon to save her?

"Click, click"

His forearm, elbow, upper arm—every bone began to crack and twist.

Blood and tissue fluid were squeezed out of the twisted muscles like sugarcane juice.

The pain, like magma, poured from my right arm into my brain and then spread throughout my body.

The pain felt as if a hole had been burned through even one's soul.

Li Lin could no longer bear this inhuman pain.

He screamed like a wild beast.

All the soldiers and demons under his command could hear the sound of their commander tearing his vocal cords.

But no one stopped, and no one tried to help him out.

These foreign mercenaries from all over the world share a cold and tacit consensus.

On the battlefield, every unit has its own mission.

Their mission is to kill all the enemies.

Li Lin's mission was to hold on and not utter the words "admit defeat".

His wailing and anguish were honorable, not deserving of pity.

It is the war cry that summons Eson, the plea to Milmidia, the melodious war song before the sacrifice of the Great Stomach God.

A fierce fighting spirit and a surge of power that seemed to spring from nowhere enveloped all the mercenaries under Li Linmo's command.

Their evasive footsteps, the power of their clubs and halberds, began to allow them to dodge attacks that were otherwise impossible, unleashing power far beyond expectations, as if divinely aided.

On a deserted hill in the distance.

Chu Yao and Wu Tamei stood side by side, their clothes fluttering in the mountain breeze.

Wu Tamei crossed her arms and looked at Li Lin, who was in a sorry state during the military exercise, with no expression on her face, but her fists, which were clenched white inside her elbows.

"How long are you going to keep watching?" Chu Yao closed her eyes, unable to bear looking directly at her, and turned to ask her.

Wu Tamei did not respond.

"So far, everyone still treats you as his fiancée," Chu Yao continued to earnestly persuade him.

"Whether you intend to continue this marriage or decide to sever all ties with him and join forces to reclaim Nanli on an equal footing, you must take action now."

Upon hearing the words "fiancée," Wu Tamei reacted like a tiger whose tail had been stepped on, turning her head away and refusing to look at Chu Yao: "What does his death have to do with me?"

"He killed my men and sent my clothes to the servants and vagrants in the group. I haven't settled that score with him yet."

"I won't act unless Wei Qiankun's men do. I've already repaid evil with kindness, and done everything I could."

Her tone was filled with gritted teeth and resentment, which made Chu Yao sigh inwardly.

Dragonborn with the bloodline of the Flying Dragon are always like this: easily angered and stubborn.

However, compared to the dragon descendants like the Candle Dragon and Jade Dragon, whose bloodlines truly flow with cold fury, the descendants of the Sky Dragon have a distinctive characteristic.

They get angry quickly, but they also soften their hearts just as quickly. Often, after a conflict, they live a lifetime in the torment of regret.

"Our lifespan is very long, so long that a mortal's life is but a fleeting moment in our eyes." Chu Yao's voice softened, as if she were talking to herself.

"The number of people you will truly love and hate in your life, and the number of people who will truly love and hate you, is extremely limited."

"No need for thousands or tens of thousands of years, just fifty short years, and you will find yourself already Ziran alone."

"Nobody knows who you are, nobody knows what trouble you got into as a child, nobody knows what you like to eat."

"Everyone will look at you as if you were looking at an ancestral tablet in a temple, and to this world you are no different from those tablets."

Chu Yao's tone gradually became pitiful. She turned to look at Li Lin, who was writhing and screaming in the mud like a maggot, and the shadow of another man flickered in her eyes.

Even Wu Tamei could hear the personal meaning behind her words.

The young dragonborn looked at Li Lin, who looked like a tattered rag in the distance, with a hesitant expression.