The orc warlord who was soaked with blood on the battlefield pulled out the sharp arrow from his chest. While his own blood spurted out, he roared ferociously, held the battle ax in both hands, and chopped down the human soldier with his shield in front of him.
It was broken in two, but before he could breathe a sigh of relief, more human warriors rushed towards him from all directions.
"Puff puff puff"
Three sharp swords pierced his body from three directions. The orc's eyes were filled with bloodshot eyes. He roared and tried to fight back, but he saw a dwarf musket pressed against his forehead.
Admiral Dai Lin's body was covered in blood and minced meat. He wielded the heavy sword with his left hand to repel the approaching orcs, and pulled the trigger with his right finger.
"Bang"
The spicy smell of gunpowder rushed into his nostrils along with the pungent smell of blood, making the panting admiral feel as if he had inhaled something weird. His whole body was filled with strength again, and he led the soldiers to rush towards the enemy again.
battlefield.
"For the alliance! Kill!"
Behind the admiral, the orc warlord fell to the ground with most of his head opened. Until the moment he died in battle, he still held the battle ax tightly in his hand, and around the corpse were death and human beings all over the scorched earth.
Orcs, dwarves, elves, everywhere you look, this desolate land has been soaked with blood, and among these corpses, the remaining warriors are still fighting each other's strength life and death, trying to cut off each other's heads.
The most brutal hand-to-hand combat has been going on for 30 minutes, but the battlefield is still like an insatiable meat grinder. Stimulated by the war cries and lamentations of both sides, it ruthlessly swallows more blood and more lives.
Here, mortals become butchers, butchers become heroes, and heroes become monsters. There is no justice or evil in this place. It is called battlefield, and it is also called hell.
"Dong dong dong"
The shaking of the earth never stopped. The shamans of the tribe summoned the angry earth elements and fire elements from under the dark red earth. These monsters who were not afraid of swords guarded the rear of the tribe's battlefield, looting and
The returning Blackstone Orcs transported supplies vital to the tribe through that passage.
Marshal Lothar, who was riding on his horse, looked back at the Alliance camp that was already on fire. The wise general quickly understood the intentions of these orcs. He turned to the elite paladins beside him and shouted:
"Uther, Fordring! Use the Silver Hand to break up the shaman's positions! Destroy that bridge!"
The two great knights nodded and pulled up the reins of their horses. Soon, the Paladins were like sharp knives, tearing apart the melee battlefield between the tribe and the alliance, and rushed towards the tribe's rear position, but that was all.
Not enough!
"Brotherhood of the Iron Horse, follow me!"
The Grand Marshal took a quick breath, and the armored war horse under his crotch neighed. Behind the Marshal, the knights of the Iron Horse Brotherhood who were loyal to him quickly formed a piercing arrow formation. Lothar was the sharp knife of these knights.
, their war horses accelerated on the battlefield filled with corpses, their hooves scraped against the blood-filled ground, splashing dazzling stains.
On the galloping horse, Lothar's eyes narrowed. He held the lance in his hand, and the sharp tip of the spear changed direction, and finally pointed at the front of the orcs' front.
Pointing at Warchief Orgrim who was leading the Kor'kron Guards on the battlefield.
An orc warrior who had just killed his opponent stood upright and panted. He was breathing heavily. The violent vibrations on the ground made him turn around suddenly. What he saw was the human army rushing towards this direction.
Heavy cavalry.
A flash of fear flashed in the orc's eyes. He wanted to escape from this path of death, but the moment he took a step forward, the top-speed war horse slammed into him.
"Bang"
The orc was knocked away from the front, and his chest rose and fell abnormally, which was a sign of a broken sternum. He smashed onto the ground in a panic, and the galloping iron hooves ruthlessly trampled over the corpse, crushing his flesh and blood.
His bones were buried in the ground, like the cruelest funeral on the battlefield.
"Follow me! Knights!"
Lothar's roar sounded during the charge. More and more knights followed the Iron Horse Brotherhood and joined this glorious charge. The number of people was increasing. When they approached Orgrim's frontal position, they were already
At least 3,000 knights have gathered.
This large-scale frontal collision is like a furrow appearing on the battlefield, splitting everything along the way in two in a cruel cut, and behind the chaotic battlefield that was cut, the formation has long been washed away
The infantry were also inspired by the marshal's courage. They held their swords and shields high and followed the knights along the battlefield they cut, like a tide, slamming hard on the orcs' defensive front.
In the age of cold weapons, such a desperate charge led by nobles can completely dominate the situation of a war.
"Protect the warchief!"
After realizing that the human grand marshal's target was Orgrim himself, and that the frontal battlefield was rapidly collapsing, the orc wolf cavalry and warriors wandering on the battlefield quickly moved toward Orgrim without the chief's orders.
They rushed over from Grim's direction, trying to block Lothar's desperate charge and block the assault of the human soldiers.
This kind of behavior cannot be wrong, but this instinctive move to protect the chief also stretched the defense of the orc position. The orcs were already at a disadvantage in terms of numbers, and the large-scale transfer of warriors quickly caused extremely bad consequences.
In front of Uther and Fording, who were rushing to the rear of the battlefield, a loophole appeared in the solid defense line of the orcs. The orcs who were attracted to the front of the battlefield inadvertently exposed the flanks they had protected!
They made a fatal mistake!
"Dar! Block the knights on the flanks!"
Warchief Orgrim grabbed the old sword master's shoulder. The latter nodded and led the Burning Blade clan towards the position that was being breached in the rear. Orgrim himself also saw the sword master rushing toward him.
Alliance Marshal Anduin Lothar, looking at the white hair flowing out from under the helmet of the running Grand Marshal and the respectable courage wrapped around his body, the war chief suddenly became full of fighting spirit.
"Just kill him..."
Orgrim turned over and rode on the black wolf. He moved his neck. The wolf seemed to feel the owner's fighting intention. It raised its head and let out an intrusive howl. Its four paws moved, carrying Orgrim.
Grim rushed towards the battlefield in front of him.
"As long as Lothar is killed, the tribe will not lose yet!"
The great chief's eyes were fixed on Lothar, who was charging forward. Behind him, the Kor'krons also followed their chief and launched a countercharge towards the human knights who seemed to be unable to stop them.
It's almost like sending yourself to death.
The advantage of the wolf cavalry is their flexibility. The power of frontal collision is not on the same level as that of human heavy cavalry. From a high altitude, the fierce battle between the two sides on the battlefield below looks like dark green arrows and white arrows facing each other tit for tat.
, and it’s like two swords chopping each other that won’t give an inch. One of them will be completely broken after the collision.
"It's already the last minute."
Tyrion looked at the battlefield below, a different kind of light flashing in his ice-blue eyes.
Above the clouds high in the sky, a black undead dragon with ghastly inscriptions engraved on its body slid silently across the battlefield. Dark red light danced in the huge eye sockets of this behemoth. There was no trace of flesh and blood left on its entire body, only the bones were connected.
, the wings are covered with broken periosteum, and between the flapping of the wings, the thick and obscure death energy escapes bit by bit.
Unlike those soulless zombie dragons, this undead dragon has an unwilling soul hidden deep in its bones. It is a true undead creation, one of the most terrifying spectacles created by death, and a dark blade.
The first killer weapon that the Knights obtained is the bottom of the box.
"Look there! Tyrion, the red dragon of the Horde!"
Grokush pointed to the dark sky ahead. Tyrion didn't need to look up to see that on the skyline connecting the Black Stone Tower behind the tribe, there were several red dragons hiding in the clouds peeping at the battlefield. Dragonmaw Orcs and Orcs
Grim's tribe was already incompatible with appearance. Naturally, these dragon knights from Dragonmaw were unwilling to pay too many casualties for Orgrim's war, so they were left on the edge to protect the supplies snatched back by the Blackstone Raiders.
.
"They will influence our actions, there is no doubt about it!"
Grokush whispered: "Do you want to kill them first?"
"unnecessary!"
Tyrion shook his head: "It's too late... But I believe that those red dragons who are voluntarily enslaved are not a problem..."
He squatted down and patted the skull of the undead dragon:
"I'm right, man, you also want to teach those traitors a lesson... then go ahead and do it!"
"Um."
An obscure answer came from the soul, and a cold smile appeared on the death knight's cheek. He stood up, spread his arms, nodded to Grokush, and then leaned back like a black cross.
The dragon's head fell straight from the sky. The undead dragon also folded its wings, and its huge bone body followed the falling death knight and carried it to the ground.
At the same moment, the distance between the two charging armies was less than 100 meters. The human knights could see the ferocious looks on the faces of the running orcs, and the orcs could also see the cold gazes under the helmets of the knights.
The leaders Orgrim and Lothar stared at each other. The old marshal's lance was as steady as a rock in the gallop. In his eyes, Orgrim, who did not know whether to live or die, was already a dead man.
"spread!"
Just when the orcs and humans were less than 50 meters away, the warchief's roar rang out on the shaking ground. Behind him, the elite Kor'krons pulled the reins of the wolf warriors and jumped quickly to both sides.
After leaving, the next moment, the human knight, who could no longer change direction, crashed into the battlefield where they were separated.
Some orcs who had no time to escape were knocked into the sky, and more orcs and their wolves were pierced by human lances. However, those orcs who had escaped the frontal charge pulled the reins at this moment, and the roaring wolves came from behind.
People jumped up from the ground on both sides, taking their masters with them, and threw the human knights to the ground from the side.
With this speed and the blessing of kinetic energy, many knights who fell to the ground were killed on the spot, while the orcs and their wolves were stepped into the ground by the subsequent human knights and turned into a disgusting and blurry mass of flesh and blood.
But the wolf cavalry dispersed, but Orgrim did not avoid it. On the contrary, he pulled the reins of the black wolf, making the beast run even crazier. At the moment when he almost touched Lothar's lance,
The war wolf of the war chief used its four claws to jump up from the ground with its owner. The wolf's teeth bit hard on the neck of Lothar's horse, and the layer of iron armor was bitten through by this crazy beast.
But the next moment, Lothar's war horse neighed and raised its front hooves, kicking the black wolf hard on the waist. This heavy blow broke the black wolf's spine, but even with such a fatal injury, this
The crazy beast still didn't let go of his teeth.
With the blood of the war horse and the wolf splattering everywhere, Orgrim himself jumped up from the saddle with the help of the wolf's last move, as if he was wrestling, and knocked Anduin Lothar behind the war horse.
Knock down the fallen horse.
The lance in the old marshal's hand swung hard and hit Orgrim on the waist, knocking the warchief away, but he himself also fell hard to the ground. For an old man in his 50s,
Said, this blow was vicious, the sturdy helmet was thrown away, and the impact on the ground caused Marshal Lothar's well-combed hair to scatter, making him dizzy.
The instinct from an old warrior made him subconsciously pull out the heavy sword from his back. But in the chaotic battlefield, he raised his head and saw Orgrim's brown body in his blurred vision, waving a black sword.
The Doomhammer pounced towards him fiercely.
"Bang"
The heavy sword and the warhammer collided together. Under the huge force exerted by the orc chief, the long sword in Lothar's hand suddenly broke. Amidst Orgrim's ferocious laughter, the roaring warhammer fell from the sky, heading towards Lothar's unprotected body.
His head was smashed.
"Anduin Lothar died here!"
"The tribe will win!"
"No!"
The holy light on the body of Marshal Lothar's adjutant, the Holy Knight Turalyon, had expanded to the extreme. He chopped down the orc warriors in front of him like crazy, and rushed towards the direction where Marshal Lothar fell. Behind him, the knight
They also roared and charged in this direction, but the orcs refused to give an inch. They would not let these Alliance dogs ruin the war chief's victory.
Amidst the roar of destruction and salvation, the night sky above the horizon was shrouded in deeper darkness. Tyrion was doing unrestrained free fall in the air, as if he was flying.
The moment he was close to the ground, he saw the war hammer that Orgrim smashed down, saw the helplessness flashing in Lothar's eyes, and the subsequent unwillingness and giving up, saw the marshal closing his eyes and waiting for death, Terry
A stiff smile appeared at the corner of Ang's mouth.
"I have arrived, I have seen... Next, it is time to conquer..."
"Shua"
The black wings suddenly opened, and the figure hit the center of the battle formation of the great chief and the old marshal like a meteor. The corrosive black storm stirred up ashes of dust and flesh, completely destroying the battlefield.
cover.
At this moment, all the sounds, the clash of weapons, the roars and cries of the soldiers, were completely silent. Everyone's eyes were focused on that battlefield. Whether they were humans or orcs, they were all looking forward to their own victory.
When the smoke cleared, the orcs were disappointed to find that the chief's war hammer did not smash Lothar's head, and the Alliance soldiers were also horrified to find that Marshal Lothar was being held by a knight in black.
"You! You are... the traitor!"
Orgrim's war hammer was held firmly in the air by a ferocious dark red giant blade. He looked at the bastard who was causing trouble in front of him, and the bastard was also looking at him, with deathly silence in his ice-blue eyes.
