Chapter 1407 Red Hat (Ⅱ)

Speaking of this, Qiao An suddenly realized the huge gap between "theory" and "reality", and his tone could not help but turn low.

That's right, cold iron weapons can restrain the goblins, but considering the high price of cold iron weapons, in this rural town, apart from Morrison and Fitzgerald, I'm afraid not many people own cold iron weapons Otherwise, the "Red Hat Thieves" wouldn't wantonly harass Bucks Town again and again.

At this time, the people in the tavern had followed Morrison out of the door, and went to the hillside to support the militia group that was fighting the red hat thieves.

Mr. Fitzgerald was carrying a chain of ammunition and a shotgun to go out to join the battle. Before leaving, he said to Joan and Ruby: "Mr. Mage, I'm sorry, the store has to temporarily close due to unexpected circumstances. You and this lady have no other safer place to go, so you might as well stay in the shop and lock the door until I come back."

Joan's heart warmed when she heard the words, and she replied gratefully: "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Fitzgerald, but I know a little bit of magic, maybe I can help."

"Oh? Is Mr. Mage going to join the battle too? That would be great!" the tavern owner beamed with joy.

"Uncle, where did the red hat thief come from, and how far is it from the tavern?" Ruby couldn't help interjecting, with an eager look on her face.

"On the northern hillside, that group of thieves always destroys the fence on the hillside, breaks into the pasture, and robs the cattle and sheep." The owner of the tavern patted his forehead. "It takes about 500 yards to walk from the pasture to my tavern."

"Walking 500 yards, the straight-line distance is only about half of the distance, and you should be able to reach it with just one teleportation."

Ruby thought to herself, and then waved goodbye to the tavern owner: "Uncle, Brother Joan and I are leaving first, see you later."

She held Joan's hand and opened the "any door", and the figures of the two quickly disappeared in a bright teleportation light curtain.

The tavern owner's eyes were straightened by the teleportation light. After Joan and Ruby disappeared completely, he recovered from the shock. He quickly picked up the shotgun and rushed out the door, catching up with Morrison and others who left first. The team rushed to the northern slopes.

...

The hillside on the back of Bucks Town was originally a natural pasture with rich water and grass, but now it is a messy scene - the corpses of cattle and sheep are lying on the meadow, and the green grass is stained red with blood.

The murderers who broke into the ranch to slaughter the cattle and sheep were a group of little monsters less than three feet tall, with wrinkled faces full of anger, and occasionally burst into a nervous laugh for no reason.

These evil goblins, who looked like little old men, all wore iron boots and red cashmere pointed hats, revealing a pair of pointed ears. The weapons they waved in their hands were all steel scythes that were too heavy for their bodies.

Down the hillside, the militiamen in Buckstown had assembled.

Because they are often harassed by wild beasts and goblins, the local militiamen are not lacking in courage, but also have sufficient practical experience, which can be called well-trained.

Under the command of the new town councilor and chief of security, Martin Smith, the militiamen were not in a hurry to expel the red hats who broke into the ranch. They first erected horses and simple tower shields under the hillside to establish a solid defensive position to prevent the red hats from going down the mountain. Road into town.

Slaughtering docile cattle and sheep can no longer satisfy the cruel and bloodthirsty nature of the red hats. They screamed, cursed, and angrily picked up their large scythes, and rushed down the hillside in groups of three and four, trying to break through the militia positions. Slash and kill humans as much as you want, and plant fear and despair into the souls of all Buckstown residents.

The militiamen stationed at the foot of the hill immediately picked up their crossbows and shot a large rain of arrows to prevent the group of evil fairies from approaching.

The arrows shot at the gray skin of the red hat, like hitting elastic rubber, most of them were bounced off, unable to effectively kill it.

Only a handful of archers armed with cold iron arrows, and militiamen armed with shotguns, can make an attack that can tear the red cap's supernatural skin and cause real damage.

However, the number of cold iron crossbows and shotguns is too small to stop the attack jointly launched by more than 30 red hats. What's more, these little monsters with distorted personalities don't know what to fear at all, and become even crazier after seeing blood.

In the front row of the position, Martin Smith stood behind two militiamen holding tower shields, looking towards the hillside.

A large group of red hats was roaring and rushing down. According to this momentum, in two minutes at most, this group of monsters would charge into the militia positions and start a bloody massacre.

In the year since Martin Smith returned to his hometown, he had never seen so many red hats attacking at the same time, and cold sweat could not help but ooze from his forehead.

Now he is no longer the ten-thousand-year repeater who was ridiculed in school, but a master mage respected by the villagers. The young people around him all count on him to stand up in critical moments and lead everyone to repel the evil goblin .

This pressure is also a sense of responsibility, prompting Martin to overcome his inner fear, grit his teeth, and focus on casting spells.

"úré!"

Chanting a mantra symbolizing flames, Martin raised his finger and pointed to the most densely populated area of ​​red hats on the hillside.

The scorching magical energy gathered into a big fireball, which exploded at the place he designated.

At least ten red hats were engulfed by the flames erupting from the "fireball technique", like dolls blown by a storm, screaming and falling down on the hillside, throwing away their weapons, rolling all over the ground in a state of embarrassment, trying to extinguish the flames on their bodies.

Martin's well-timed "fireball technique" not only curbed the arrogance of the goblins, but also greatly boosted the morale of one's own side. Cheers resounded from the militia positions.

...

On the hillside, the elder in the red hat stared viciously at Martin Smith, who was wearing a white robe on the opposite position, his hideous wrinkled face twitched nervously.

The oldest old monster among the red hat tribe, nearly four feet tall, with a dark complexion showing a metallic luster, a long snow-white beard, a magic scythe in his hand, and a pair of pointed iron boots on the heels. Spurs, clinking as they walk.

"Damn mage, don't get too complacent! Hehe~ It's your turn to be unlucky soon!"

The elder in the red hat let out a sinister laugh, turned around and whistled.

The four young red hats received the signal from the elder, and hurried into the bushes. After a while, they worked together to lift a large oak wine barrel, and pushed it down the hillside under the command of the elder.

The big round wine barrel rolled down the steep slope, and went straight to the low-lying militia camp.

"Pooh!"

The elder with the red hat spat on the ground, stepped on his iron boots and galloped as fast as a gust of wind, after a while he caught up with the wine barrel and jumped on it.

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