Chapter 190, Redemption

The wolf-orc army met the rats head-on on the grassland.

Rat War kept his word, and the rat caravan with the highest bid was qualified to follow the army, but there was a problem, the highest bid did not necessarily have only one rat caravan.

The bad Rat War offered an extreme price.

The big claw priests in charge of the rat caravans also had red eyes.

The war had to continue, and the rats did not avoid the war at all, nor did they shrink in the scarlet pit for defense. Perhaps Rat War did not expect that the situation of the war had changed so much in a short time.

From shrinking in anger to cohesive greed, the cooperation between the rat priests and the rat warlords can indeed greatly change some things. Once, the two sides set foot on the battlefield together in the will of the gods, but now they are gradually drifting away.

Not long after the rat knights noticed the approaching huge army, the rats themselves came to the front of this equally huge grassland coalition.

In the endless black tide, pairs of scarlet eyes were cast forward, with desire, expectation, or perhaps more.

The fierce fight does not require any warm-up. No matter what angle the cut is made, no matter how the running knights divide, the rats this time are particularly tenacious.

Is this a war?

Maybe not.

You can't see any fear or hesitation on the faces of these guys, nor can you see any pause in their movements.

Even though death is happening all the time, being trampled, beheaded, and pierced by arrows.

The wailing before death is so piercing.

But more guys are still so happy, eager, and impatient, rushing to the battlefield regardless of everything.

The black tide is no longer so calm, and the waves are surging.

The battle exchange ratio of the rats has always been very tragic, and it is also the same in this war, ten, twenty, thirty, or perhaps more.

Fortunately, the rats attracted by this war are also equally large.

The still warm corpses were trampled wantonly, and the blood and flesh of the ratmen were like paints smearing this vast grassland, with a little red, accompanied by the euphoric and crazy laughter, accompanied by the sharp and twisted roar.

Not to mention that the three-tribe coalition was stunned, even the wolf knights were also a little flustered.

No matter how elite and fanatical the warriors are, they are still warriors after all. They will be afraid, shaken, and afraid.

But lunatics are different, lunatics are different.

Three hundred blood mushrooms are enough to make most ratmen go crazy.

A young ratman who is qualified to be filled in the ratman army, the most important and best-selling product of the big claw priest to support the breeding house to run meals, only needs one blood mushroom.

Ratmen of all sizes have long been marked with prices, and even the prices are gradually falling, in this era of great changes, in this era when the gods spread the gifts in their hands to all directions.

Those vast, vast ratmen are becoming more and more humble.

Once upon a time, when the underground rat city had just begun to be built, every newly born ratman had the opportunity to choose his own destiny. Even if he could not become a ratman priest chosen by the great god, bravery on the battlefield was still a way.

At that time, every newborn ratman could get a blood mushroom at birth.

Now, more and more ratman cities are being built, and more and more ratman breeding rooms are appearing. At every moment of the day, a vast number of ratmen are born in crowded and dim breeding houses and are picked like commodities.

There are more and more defective ratmen, coming from the endless internal rolling of breeding houses.

The ratmen do not respect ethics, and have always disrespected them, and do not care about blood ties. The increasingly dark and narrow breeding houses have bound the lives of breeding female ratmen, with fat bodies and endless mating.

With their own offspring, with their offspring's offspring, and with their offspring's offspring.

Deformed children, blood diseases, mania, dementia, this series of messy diseases were discovered by the rats one by one, and the treatment method was also particularly unified, killing and recycling.

The rat priests had discovered this problem long ago. The breeding house would face such problems if it operated for a long time. There was a solution, which was simple and crude.

When the underground rat farm just got on track, the big claw priests at that time would expel the worn female rats from the breeding house and abandon them at will in any tunnel of the underground rat city.

Most of these abandoned female rats will disappear soon and become corpses waiting to be processed in the complex tunnel network.

A small part survived and became the mistress worshipped in the corner of the underground rat city that no one cared about, and also became the source of the rat disaster that could never be eliminated in the underground rat city.

Not every female rat can bear endless childbirth, and not every female rat can bear the wear and tear brought by reproduction.

These female rats are rare.

Time passes.

As more and more breeding houses appeared, this problem that had never been truly solved still troubled every Great Claw Priest who operated the breeding house.

But now, more Great Claw Priests chose to let it go. They were no longer forced to provide qualified soldiers, and blood mushrooms were no longer provided to every newborn ratman.

The chaotic breeding continued endlessly, and more and more newborn rats were born incomplete, weak, and lowly.

After a long period of development, the average physique of the rats under Du Yuan degenerated.

The blood was becoming more and more turbid and inferior, but no one cared about it.

As more and more breeding rooms were built, the rats became more and more lowly.

A normal, non-deformed, not overly weak and thin young rat only needed a blood mushroom, even if he had already passed through the turbid and lowly blood, even if this normal, non-deformed, not overly weak and thin young rat had passed through the increasingly turbid and lowly blood, and was a lucky one that could be picked out of a hundred newborn rats.

It was only worth a blood mushroom.

The terrible deformed chain had already taken shape, and the possibility of breaking free from this chain had always existed and had always been known to all the rats.

Become a priest, become a rat priest, become a rat priest serving the great god.

The lucky ones have always been a minority. In this era, the great gods have become increasingly distant, and even the glory of the gods has become obscure and tied up high in the increasingly huge kingdom.

But it does not prevent these humble rats from looking up.

Perhaps Du Yuan has noticed it, perhaps Du Yuan is not sure, perhaps Du Yuan has already determined it, and casts a complex gaze.

A vague priesthood has faintly appeared in front of Du Yuan, a word that seems to never be touched by him.

A bright, hazy, and glorious word.

Redemption.

"Great God, have mercy on me.

Great God, bless me.

Save me, great God."

The twisted country was built by Du Yuan's indulgence. The suffering of the rat people is inseparable from Du Yuan, and the rat people pray to Du Yuan for redemption.

Begging desperately to the evil god who created everything.

Du Yuan watched all this, Du Yuan observed all this, Du Yuan listened to the wailing and wailing of countless ratmen, and chose to remain silent.