Chapter 116 The End of the Era: The Mysterious Army

Vito rode on the coastal highway, the wheels of the motorcycle galloping on the road. He sat on the back of the motorcycle and looked at the coastline on the side. The sea breeze brought the high temperature brought by the scorching sun.

The tiny dust and particles flying in the air kept hitting the motorcycle, but Vito was used to the feeling of riding in the wasteland desert. He liked to feel the surging power of the crimson motorcycle under his crotch, feel its powerful power injection and the awakened vigorous power.

Vito's eyes looked to the side, he looked at the ocean.

The sea level of the Caspian Sea has dropped a lot. It used to be a famous coastal highway in Kazakhstan. Vito came here several times in the past. It has always been beautiful. Together with Astra, it is called the pearl of Kazakhstan.

It used to be a national park scenic spot. According to the legend of the Kazakhs, the Kazakhs looked at the scorching desert and the barren grassland and were sad, so they prayed to the gods for mountains, forests, rivers and oceans. In the end, the gods gave these four together to the Kazakhs.

This is Astra, the "Pearl of Kazakhstan".

Vito first came here in 1938, when he had just returned from the East to the Soviet Union and brought news from Yan'an back to Moscow. He passed through this beautiful land on the way.

This was not his first time here. In fact, Vito had been here a long time ago, during the Mongol invasion of the West, but he really felt the beauty of this land in 1938, and he came here several times later.

But now, this beautiful land has become a thing of the past.

In just a few centuries after the earth fell into the era of strife

The wars between technological barbarians and the melee between warlords have long made this place lose its former beauty.

After the doomsday nuclear exchange of the "Great Judgment", Astra turned to dust. Now there are only barren Gobi and dry riverbeds, and even the water level of the Caspian Sea has dropped significantly.

The sea used to be full of stranded ships and those lonely Caspian oil drilling towers, some of which have been repaired and restarted to provide energy for the bases ahead.

Vito propped himself up on the motorcycle and looked at the base. The man-made base was just ahead, and that was his destination.

The motorcycle drove off the highway, crossed the barren Gobi desert beside the road and drove into a narrow river valley. This was once a tributary of a large river, but now the rushing river water has long disappeared, leaving only a dry riverbed.

Vito stopped in the river valley, he turned over and got off the car and put the sniper rifle on his back.

He climbed up the high river bank on one side, which now looked more like a hill. He climbed up and hid his body and shuttled between the exposed rocks on the top.

He lay on a loess slope, and the sniper rifle's scope followed his eyes to look at the target in front.

A truck drove into the entrance of the base. The vehicle was obviously very wasteland punk style. The truck was put into the base after a simple inspection and questioning by the guard at the door.

Vito looked at the punk guards. Although they tried hard to dress like a regular army, the characteristics of their clothes were not much different from those of the technological barbarians.

Vito put down the scope and looked at a truck coming on the road in the distance. The truck was driving slowly on the road, and that was Vito's target.

Vito slid down the hill with a sniper rifle on his back. He quickly caught up with the moving truck and jumped into the truck bed.

The truck arrived at the entrance of the base. The barbarian guards, carrying guns, communicated with the driver outside the driver's seat. Another guard lifted the curtain of the truck bed and took a quick look inside. He did not find Vito hiding among a pile of boxes, or if he was more careful, he would find that the boxes were placed in a mess.

But it was obvious that the guard on duty was completely worthy of the word careless. He patted the driver's door and shouted something in Ushkan, and soon the truck started moving again.

Vito let out a sigh of relief and put down the dagger in his hand. He hid behind the box and peeked out through the gap between the car boards.

This is a qualified base. It seems that its owner rebuilt it from a dam on the coast of the Caspian Sea. Although the riverbed here has long been dry and it no longer has any meaning as a dam, its new owner has carefully transformed it into an above-ground fortress.

The truck stopped in the garage. Vito quickly left the truck bed before the unloading workers started working. He took a step and hid in the shadows on one side and peeked out.

The workers who had been waiting for a long time began to move the goods. They began to move the goods under the command of the commander's foreman.

The commander kept yelling and urging them in an irritable tone. He was obviously not a local, and his workers were almost mixed with all the races of the entire original Eurasian continent.

Among them were East Asians, Middle Easterners, South Pacific Islands, Europeans, and even people from the Arabian Peninsula who had long been turned into a dead desert in the nuclear explosion.

The various ethnic groups and tribes, the various languages ​​and accents mixed together make this place look like a national brigade.

Vito planned to catch the foreman and ask him the location of his boss, but he stopped before Vito took action. If the group of shamans in the African secret meeting wanted to kill someone, and made such a big fuss, maybe that person and the group of shamans wanted him dead, then it is very likely that this person also has the same "witchcraft power" as the secret meeting.

People in the same profession are enemies, right? Although Vito was also surprised at the significance of them coming all the way across half of Central Asia to kill a wizard, perhaps this could provide some help to Vito.

Vito put away his dagger, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He spread his psychic power and tried to find the "powerful wizard".

To his surprise, it didn't take too much effort. In fact, it was very easy. The man's psychic power was very strong, so strong that Vito only took a moment to find his position and direction.

Vito turned his head and entered the base from the working corridor on the side of the unloading area. He shuttled between the corridors, stairs and open dam structures of the base like a ghost.

An army was assembled here, and many barbarian warriors carrying various weapons and equipment gathered here. They looked more formal and disciplined than ordinary technological barbarians, which could be seen from their clothes.

Unlike the guards outside the dam, these secret troops hidden in the huge base were dressed neatly, and most of them wore armor and uniforms that were very classical in ancient Terra.

Wearing crowned helmets, muscled breastplates, Roman bandages and shields, Vito also vaguely saw a group of soldiers holding modified spears. They formed a large group and passed through the open central avenue, with a leader holding a hanging purple flag.

They had obvious Byzantine style dress, and other groups looked like the Undead Legion of ancient Persia. Vito had fought with the real Undead Legion, and he could recognize their dress.

Vito looked at these troops on the corridor above. Is this wizard nostalgic? What weapons and armor styles can be called "tribute to classics"

An officer dressed very similar to the centurion of the Roman Legion stood on a box. He waved his short sword and commanded the team. The legion soldiers holding large shields walked neatly in front of him, just like the Roman Legion traveled to the present.

This is a real army, with strict discipline and order, which is completely different from the technological barbarians in the desert outside, and their existence is obviously not a guard of honor.

Vito looked down at this huge army, "Is this old shaman ready to go to war? With Ushgan?"

But Vito still passed through them, like a non-existent ghost. If there is anyone in the world who is most suitable to be an assassin, it is definitely Vito.

He was silent for a moment, then reached out and used his psychic power to open the ventilation fan opposite the corridor. Vito stepped on the handrail of the corridor and jumped out, flying over the head of the marching team.

He stepped on the summoned psychic pedal in the air, and Vito flew across the sky like a light kung fu knight in a martial arts novel. He landed on the opposite narrow working corridor and got into the ventilation fan.

Vito walked in the ventilation duct with a gun on his back, and the huge fan blades turned slightly behind him, and his footsteps echoed in the empty duct.

He walked through the ventilation duct, drilling through the maze-like passages like a rat, but he was not blind. He followed the source of the psychic signal and soon arrived at his destination.

Vito bent down in the narrow duct and sat behind a grid plate. He looked at the tall figure in the laboratory under the grid, and powerful psychic induction signals emanated from him.

Vito took out a small folding crossbow arrow, and took out an arrow coated with nerve poison from his waist bag. He learned this poison from the natives of the Indonesian Islands in Oceania.

They know how to make a highly toxic nerve venom that can cause the brain function of the person hit to overload and necrotize instantly, leading to rapid brain nerve death. It is often used by locals to deal with wizards or psychics, depending on what you want to call it.

After Vito put the arrow on the bowstring, he gently lifted the grid and then landed lightly on the ground. There was almost no sound when he landed. He stood up and aimed the arrow at the back of the burly shaman's head.

"If you don't want your head to explode, you'd better not move." A deep voice said, and Vito almost immediately pulled out his revolver and pointed it at the man's head.

Next to him was a man who was equally burly, tall and wearing golden armor. His hairstyle was a unique Mohawk, holding a halberd equipped with a terrifying caliber gun, and the weapon of amazing caliber was pointing at his head.

"Hello, Vito." The tall "old shaman" put down his work and turned to look at Vito, who also showed a surprised expression.

"Old bastard?"