Chapter 183: Clever Bobo
"Count yourselves lucky!"
Bobo pouted, fixing his gaze on the murloc warriors who had previously fled.
His eyes flickered slightly, and Bobo shouted in a sharp voice:
"Catch those fools who ran away earlier!"
The smarter murloc warriors were a bit dazed; they hadn't been part of the group that fled.
But the surrounding murlocs didn't hesitate, having been completely subdued by Bobo. They swarmed the murloc warriors who usually bullied them!
The larger murloc warriors were stronger than ordinary murlocs, but they were vastly outnumbered by the latter.
Before they could react, they were overwhelmed by the howling ordinary murlocs.
Having thought it through, Bobo's face showed a mischievous grin as he ordered the murloc warriors to be dragged over.
The heavily injured Old Six opened his mouth skillfully, enjoying a hearty meal, which helped him regain some health.
Beelzebub, watching this scene, couldn't help but shake his head.
In the past, he wouldn't have felt much about this.
But ever since coming to the Bay Territory, he found this indiscriminate killing among the same kind somewhat strange.
Beelzebub was also very certain that it wasn't what he once considered weakness but rather that he had developed more principles and a sense of boundaries.
He knew what he wanted!
He knew what he wanted to protect.
He fought with conviction and was confident in defeating any enemy.
For example, Hawk, who Yaya had just released.
Hawk, lying in the mud, was a bit stunned.
He hadn't even had time to react before seeing the fully armored Beelzebub walking over from the distant mist.
"Who is he? Someone from Bay Territory?"
Beelzebub silently stood 20 meters in front of Hawk, speaking in a muffled voice:
"If you defeat me, you can leave directly."
"If I defeat you, well, sorry, but all your weapons and equipment will belong to me."
His tone carried no greed, only an intense fighting spirit!
Hawk, scanning the burly Beelzebub, felt a significant amount of pressure from him.
He could tell at a glance that Beelzebub was a barbarian warrior.
Judging by his high-quality weapons and armor, all enchanted, far better than his own gear, he assumed Beelzebub must be from Bay Territory.
"Barbarians don't spend money on equipment, nor do they have the means to acquire it."
Hawk didn't say much, simply nodding calmly as he slowly adjusted his breathing, shaking off the mud and removing pieces of his knight armor.
In the soft, muddy ground, wearing such heavy armor would only slow him down.
Hawk quickly assessed that in a contest of strength, he wouldn't be able to overpower Beelzebub.
He needed to ensure his advantage in agility.
His judgment was undoubtedly correct!
When Beelzebub, exuding a faint chill, charged like a savage bull.
The suffocating pressure that came over him caused Hawk's heart to tighten suddenly.
He couldn't fight this head-on!
A silver-gray light flashed beneath Hawk's feet, boosting his slightly sluggish movements and giving him a burst of speed.
He capitalized on the slower rhythm of Beelzebub's attack.
At that moment, the tip of his sword flickered, matching his steps as he thrust toward Beelzebub's waist.
The angle was tricky, the movement strange, but the speed was lightning fast!
Beelzebub, relying on his beast-like instincts, shifted his long axe just in time to knock aside the oncoming sword.
Clang!
The sword trembled slightly, sending a wave of numbness through Hawk's wrist. He cursed "barbarian" inwardly.
Relying on his nimble footwork and timing, he continuously dodged Beelzebub's swinging axe.
He circled around Beelzebub, trying hard to find a better opportunity.
Hawk never considered running; doing so would be incredibly foolish.
He still hadn't figured out what knocked him unconscious earlier, so it was best not to provoke any hidden enemies.
In the distance.
The somewhat chaotic members of the transport team, who had been reorganizing, quieted down a bit.
The murlocs surrounding them in the mist brought significant pressure.
Everyone couldn't help but swallow nervously as they retrieved various tools from the wagons that had been prepared earlier.
Some bandaged the wounded, while others replaced their weapons and armor.
Even though many of the goods were meant to be delivered to the Carlisle camp, they couldn't care about that anymore.
Surviving was the most important thing.
As for the supplies, whoever wanted to deliver them could do so.
Although the murlocs had caused a commotion, the damage they inflicted wasn't extensive.
Just as they thought the murlocs were gathering strength for another surprise attack.
They waited for nearly half an hour.
Still, no murlocs attacked them.
In this situation, they grew more and more nervous, and arguments began to break out among them.
Should they stay put and defend?
Or should they seize the opportunity to break out while they still had the strength?
Before they could reach a consensus, a dense wave of murlocs began to encircle them from the south, north, and west.
Leaving only the direction of their destination—the east—unoccupied!
There didn't seem to be a single murloc there.
In this situation, their first instinct was that the east must be a trap.
But faced with the murlocs charging at them fearlessly.
The small bit of strength they had just regained was quickly being drained.
As a result, they were forced to retreat eastward.
The murlocs' chaotic shouting and the constantly shifting figures in the mist brought immense pressure upon them.
When one of the cart drivers, terrified, dropped his weapon and fled.
The remaining members could no longer withstand the pressure of death and fled east as well.
"Run! Run! The faster, the better!"
"Just leave everything behind for me!"
Hiding in the mist, Bobo let out a series of cold laughs.
Watching the transport team flee in disarray, he felt he had regained the confidence he had lost earlier.
"The more murlocs, the better!"
Thinking this, and seeing the transport team had fled far away, Bobo grinned happily, commanding Old Six to rush over.
Seeing the scattered wagons and supplies, he had no attachment to them, eagerly searching for weapons that suited him.
The swamp crocodile was much pickier, only devouring the bodies of the larger murloc warriors and ignoring the human corpses.
Bobo rummaged around for a while, then his eyes lit up.
From the mud, he pulled out a gleaming shortsword, happily wiping it clean and skillfully tucking it at his waist.
Before he could react, a terrifying pressure suddenly descended from above.
Bobo turned his head and saw Old Six, who had been gorging himself moments earlier, now being pinned to the ground by the great master, whimpering and trembling in fear.
Locking eyes with Yaya's blue gaze, Bobo immediately shrank back, without hesitation, he knelt down and respectfully called out:
"I beg the great master not to eat Old Six, his meat is too tough and a bit smelly!"