Mousse could no longer tell how many punches he had been hit.
His vision was drowsy.
The sounds of people laughing wildly in the pleasure of torturing the weak were extremely harsh.
Mousse got up again and again, and again and again.
He was knocked to the ground, blood stained his face and the ground red.
Slaves are the lowest class in the empire.
No one cares about their life or death.
Those who do it are ruthless.
Mousse had no way out.
The entrance sealed by his own people was like an ice pick piercing his heart.
He knew that he was wrong.
It was a big joke to expect the slaves of the empire who had surrender engraved in their blood to resist.
And Fan's indifference made him fall into a desperate situation.
What should I do?
Mous thought painfully in his heart.
Memories of the past came flooding in, but they brought him more pain than the pain on his skin.
He had vowed to make the man who abandoned their mother and son regret, and he had vowed to lead his tribe to glory, but everything came to nothing in the end. .
On a cold night, the armies of other tribes conquered his tribe, and the woman in red who led the team completely destroyed all his persistence, even though he frantically burned all his ability cells.
She led an army to defeat his tribe, but ultimately freed him.
However, Mous, who was seriously injured, has known since then that he may never be a great warrior again.
His ability cells have become necrotic and exhausted due to excessive overdraft, and he has suffered fundamental illnesses in his body, leaving him Reply becomes almost impossible.
The wandering Mousse wandered in the wilderness with his loyal men.
The lack of food caused them to fall one by one.
With their abilities burned together, they were no different from mortals.
In the end, they were captured by the Empire.
From then on, the mark of humiliation followed him for half a year.
But Mousse has never given up on her resistance, not before and still not now. even death People will always find hope in the midst of despair.
Betrayal and pain can also inspire the anger of self-improvement, and the pain of death cannot break the wings of the spirit.
If you want to die, then die passionately "Brothers, stand up and assemble," Mousse shouted loudly with blood all over his body.
The barren and desolate music hummed from his mouth, as if it was filled with nostalgia and sadness, but the sudden and tense rhythm was more like an unyielding prelude to battle, making all the fallen warriors struggle to stand up.
"The wild grass is green and green, this is my hometown.
The long song is full of blood and I will return to my hometown.
I hope my soul will return to my hometown in the end."
"The long song fills the blood of my home, and I hope my soul will return to my hometown in the end."
"I hope my soul will eventually return to my hometown" the majestic and desolate song became louder and louder, completely covering up all the curses and hits.
Mous looked up to the sky and roared, his anger reaching the sky, "Tribal people will never be slaves" "Tribal people, never be slaves."
All the warriors belonging to Musi were furious.
The humiliation they had suppressed for too long was completely released in the desolate music of their hometown.
Their scarlet eyes were full of injustice and disgust for the world. .
The strong will always oppress, the weak will always be bullied "Just because you want to get rid of your status as a slave" he yelled and cursed one after another with disdain, and the fists he waved became even more ferocious.
"Spike" Mousse roared angrily.
The injured soldiers tried their best to gather together.
They were like injured wild wolves, their ferocious eyes filled with madness.
"Killing" was like a wolf pack hunting.
A dozen people rushed towards the leader Mous' nearest enemy like hungry wolves.
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They completely ignored the attacks of others and rained down their fists on this man.
"Eagle kill!"
Mousse roared again.
A dozen people dropped the fallen enemy, and like an eagle spreading its wings, they immediately opened up the space along the newly opened gap.
The people on the wings blocked the attack from the outside.
The warriors at the head of the eagle were attacking crazily, even though the corners of their mouths were full of blood.
Such fast and powerful team mobilization capabilities.
It's really surprising, this doesn't look like the useful fighting qualities of a group of war slaves.
The most elite warriors can only do this, especially this strange and powerful battle formation, which seems to be able to unite everyone's strength.
But why do these people keep hiding this?
"Chief, you should have made up your mind a long time ago.
Our tolerance is really close to the limit."
"So what if the secret is exposed?
We are born as tribal people and die as tribal ghosts.
Rather than being imprisoned by this damn empire, it is better to meet the heroic spirits of the tribe as soon as possible."
"Look at these damn slave bastards.
We gave them the best food and injected them with the only modification agent, but what we got was naked betrayal at the most critical moment."
"But fortunately, I can hear the song of the heroic spirits again before I die, even if I can never return to my hometown."
Mousse listened silently.
The emotions that had been accumulated in the hearts of the soldiers were just because he still harbored the dream of revenge.
He didn't dare to reveal his true identity, and he didn't dare to use even a little bit of skills related to the distant ancestor tribe, but what he got from this switch was endless oppression.
But it doesn't matter now, Mousse smiled.
Since there is no hope, instead of being tied to a dark corner for the rest of their lives, it is better to prove that they were the bravest warriors of the tribe.
"Fierce Tiger" Mous roared loudly with all his strength.
Now he just wanted to show the style that a tribal warrior should have, and other things had long been forgotten by him.
Fierce tigers are the most ferocious beasts in the ancestral tribe's battle formations.
Once this kind of battle formation is used, it will inevitably bring about the madness of death.
"For the tribe" "For the tribe" The two torrents completely collided together, and the continuous fighting was filled with murderous intent.
At this point in the battle, it had long lost its original purpose.
The belligerent imperial people, stimulated by blood, were full of murderous intent.
Why is a mouse-like thing provoking the noble glory of the empire?
"Kill them, kill these foreign bastards" The two sides who were furious were fighting for their lives, but what was shocking was that the Mous side, which was greatly disadvantaged in numbers, suffered such serious injuries, but actually completely suppressed the number of people several times in terms of momentum.
The strange fighting methods of your opponents always allow them to gather their scattered forces together and burst out with more powerful power.
But when his manpower was finally exhausted, Mousse, who was on the verge of exhaustion, was finally hit by a heavy punch that penetrated the defense and hit Mousse's head.
If this punch had hit, Mousse would have been seriously injured even if he did not die.
"Don't you dare!"
the nearest warrior yelled crazily, but even if he tried his best, he could not save Mousse before his fist.
This scene made him stunned.
"leader" At this critical moment, a generous hand arrived at Mousse's side before anyone else.
Stable and powerful.
Before the person who punched could react, he suddenly felt the world spinning.
A strange tremor destroyed all the strength of his arm, and he was thrown off the ground like a rag doll.
"You, you said you would not participate in the war, you liar, you have soiled your promise as an Imperial member."
The man coughed up blood.
The seemingly simple blow just now caused unimaginable injuries to him. .
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"Ah, I said I wouldn't fight side by side with a group of rats."
Fan looked at him with an expression on his face, "But now, it's you who are more like mice.
Besides, I'm not from the Empire."
Fan twitched the corner of his mouth, that was The arc of mockery.
"Brothers, kill these bastards," the man shouted crazily, but there was no response as expected.
What happened?
He turned his face and looked around, cold sweat falling to the ground along his cheeks.
There were no other brothers anywhere, only bodies lying on the ground like him, wailing constantly
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