Lor'themar tore his cloak to pieces, sat in the dark shadows, and wrapped his fingers that were torn by the bowstring bit by bit. Zuljin's head was tied tightly to his combat belt. It seemed that he
He will not put it down until he is killed in battle or escapes from danger.
"boom"
The shriveled water sac was thrown from behind. Lor'themar caught it in his hand and drank the last sip of water. After his throat was moistened, he wiped his mouth and looked at the dark and quiet forest behind him. It seemed that everything was...
With a shocking crisis rippling, he pressed his fingers on the bow and whispered:
"There are at least 14 orcs chasing us, and there is also the orc warlord who can be identified as a high-level warrior just by looking at them. Hey, it seems that it will be difficult for us to escape this time."
"I know..."
Behind him, the silent Tyrion was biting the meat in his hand with difficulty. His back was to Lor'themar, and his left hand was resting on the hilt of the Phoenix Heavy Sword stained with blood. Next to the blade, there was a
The dismembered body of an orc scout.
The water bag that fed the two of them was found on his body, and the strange-smelling dried meat in Tyrion's hand was also the trophy of this ambush.
"Our state cannot handle these pursuers."
Lor'themar continued, but was interrupted by Tyrion who stretched out his hand. The latter looked at him and said word by word:
"I know! I know how bad the situation is... You still like to talk non-stop as before!"
He stood up, used his left hand to pull out the heavy sword stuck in the ground, took a few steps forward, and looked back at Lor'themar:
"Let's go separately and let the pursuers disperse. At least one of the two can survive...Don't tell me that you can't even deal with a few orcs now."
Lor'themar did not answer. He stroked his fingers on the surface of the war bow. After a moment, he answered:
"What I'm worried about is the orc warlord... He's more dangerous than Zul'jin."
"No matter how strong he is, he can only pursue one direction at a time."
Tyrion took a deep breath, shook his hand without looking back, and walked into the darkness:
"Since we have reached a desperate situation, let all this be decided by fate. Whoever encounters it will be his misfortune. Farstrider Lor'themar, I wish you good luck."
"If you die! Tyrion!"
Lor'themar carried the golden-red phoenix war bow behind his back, pulled out an arrow from the quiver, and shouted loudly:
"I will tell everyone about your achievements and feats, and I will spread your heroic deeds throughout Quel'Thalas! I swear that I will help the Windrunner family secure the position of Ranger General as long as I am still in Quel'Thalas.
Salas has not been able to shake this principle for a day!"
He was silent for a second, then turned around and walked in the other direction.
"If I die...please do the same thing, take my place, help His Highness the Prince, and make Quel'Thalas a better place!"
Tyrion walked into the darkness and stopped. His shoulders moved. Regarding the memories in his mind, those chaotic fragments echoed repeatedly in his mind:
"Don't be so desperate, Theron. Maybe we will all survive...at least I know that you...your destiny is not here."
Lor'themar was stunned for a moment by these familiar words. He shook his head and a smile appeared on his lips. He looked back at Tyrion's back and shouted:
"Hey! Tyrion, you are so good at comforting others, you must have spent a lot of time comforting yourself, right? How pitiful... If you can survive, I will buy you a drink!"
Tyrion did not answer, and seemed not to have heard those words at all. His figure quickly disappeared into the darkness. Lor'themar reached out and touched the head on his waist, and turned around and jumped into the dark forest.
.
The gears of fate, at this moment, quietly begin to accelerate. The familiar history may change its course, and the extra gear may be completely crushed, causing fate to reverse course. So far, the ending of this story has not yet been revealed.
Know...
Less than 3 minutes after the two people dispersed, Red Blackhand rushed out of the forest with a fully armed orc scout. He saw the leader of the scout at a glance. He walked forward and half-knelt before the orc who was still staring at death.
He stood beside the soldier and stretched out his hand to help him close his bulging eyes.
The muscles in Reid's arms were tense, and he tightly grasped the red sword in his hand. He roared angrily:
"After suffering a defeat at the hands of humans, now even the weak elves can humiliate us wantonly?!"
"Chase! Use their heads... to pay homage to our warriors!"
"Roar"
The orc warriors behind him roared in unison, completely breaking the silence of the dark forest. Birds flew up from the forest, raising their feathers all over the ground.
"They ran in both directions!"
After another scout rummaged through the ground, he reported to Red:
"We have no way of determining who owns Zul'jin's head."
"As cunning as a fox!"
A trace of resentment flashed in Reid's eyes: "Then let's separate too..."
"madness!"
A scolding came from behind Red, and the orc warriors all moved out of the way. Saurfang, the orc warlord carrying a spine battle ax, walked out of the forest behind him. He walked up to Red and spoke with
A kind of scrutinizing light looked at the orc young chief, and he asked in a deep voice:
"Has the anger gone to your head? Reid... tell me, do you want our exhausted warriors to die in vain?"
"I didn't...I just..."
"Snapped"
Red's retort earned him a resounding slap in the face, and Saurfang cursed in a voice that was full of hatred:
"Two elves who can unite to kill Zul'jin, isn't that enough for you to be more vigilant? Will ordinary warriors be their opponents? You, go to the right... everyone! They can't run far yet.
!”
"The other side..."
Reid asked subconsciously, and then he saw Overseer Saurfang reach out and take off the battle ax from behind, then turned and walked in the opposite direction of them.
"On the other side, I'll come in person!"
"Yes! Overseer!"
Red shouted, grabbed his sword, and rushed into the forest with the remaining orcs. Lor'themar's estimate was a little inaccurate. In fact, there were not as many orcs chasing him as he thought. In the melee with Dai Lin,
In the process, the remaining orcs were injured. Moreover, Zuljin's body could not just be thrown into the forest.
There were about eight orcs who followed Red into the forest. The one pursuing them on the other side was only one orc, Saurfang. It seemed that both Tyrion and Lor'themar had hope of escaping.
——————————————————
"Whoosh, whoosh"
Huge wings beat the air, kicking up bursts of dust on the boulders. Accompanied by the cry of a giant eagle, a huge and weird creature slowly landed on the top of a giant castle built along the mountain.
.
It has a lion-like golden mane, sharp talons and a lion-like tail, but its front body is like a huge eagle with lightning eyes. Even its front paws are similar to eagle talons, and its long and sharp beak can
It can easily tear apart the enemy's body, and the flapping wings on both sides of its body can allow this majestic and ferocious beast to soar rapidly in the air.
This is the gryphon... The Hinterlands are at the top of the food chain, one of the most ferocious beasts.
However, there was a rein on the gryphon's head, and after it stopped, a short creature wearing leather armor and carrying a war hammer, as strong as an iron bucket, jumped down from behind the gryphon, and he struck with his backhand.
He took out a large piece of fresh meat from the basket next to him and threw it to the pet behind him.
As the gryphon screamed with joy, this short man with muscular sticks quickly walked down the gryphon fence and rushed towards the castle below.
"Kurdran! How are you, have you caught those troll thieves?"
"I killed them all! No one was left alive!"
When he entered the castle, the fellows wearing guard armor greeted him friendly. Obviously, this short man had a high status in his own tribe.
"Falstad, are you there?"
The short man rushed into the castle's conference hall. There was no one inside. He shouted with his loud voice. His thick voice echoed back and forth in the conference hall. After a few minutes, a man wearing a robe and carrying a red gemstone appeared.
The short man with the crown walked quickly into the conference room.
What catches the eye is a pair of wise eyes and an orange-red beard that completely covers most of his body. The beard is braided and dotted with gorgeous golden rings. Finally, his height is only
It’s less than 1.60 meters.
"What's wrong? Kurdran? Didn't you go after the troll who stole our food? Why did you come back so soon?"
"Listen to me! Falstad, I have killed the trolls, but I saw other creatures in the forest... They are elves! They are the elves of Quel'Thalas who play magic in the north! I see a lot.
clear!"
Kurdran, who was carrying his war hammer like a warrior, shouted loudly:
"The green-skinned orcs are chasing them in our forest! Just like the messenger from the human kingdom told us, those orcs are ugly! And very barbaric! I think we should help the elves!"
"But the Wildhammer dwarves have not yet decided whether to join the war between humans and orcs, my brother!"
The great lord Falstad, a good friend of Griffin Knight Kurdran, said in a somewhat embarrassed tone:
"We have finally lived a peaceful life. I don't want to lure the orcs to the Hinterlands. The trolls here are already annoying enough."
Kurdran and Falstad are both dwarves. They are a group of short, stocky creatures whose strength can even rival that of orcs. The blue war patterns on their arms and cheeks represent their clans.
They all belong to the Wildhammer dwarves in the Hinterlands mountains and have lived here for 200 years.
"Those orcs just massacred Khaz Modan! Falstad, they killed thousands of our compatriots!"
Compared to leaders who need to consider too many issues, warriors always think very simply. Kurdran angrily shouted to Falstad:
"Although we parted ways with the Bronzebeard family, what remains in our bodies is the blood inherited from the great Kazgoros. If you hadn't stopped me, I would have taken the gryphon knights to teach those damned people a lesson.
They are greenskins! What’s more, they have broken into our Hinterlands now!”
"We can no longer be soft on them! Falstad!"
He stared at his lord fiercely and almost grabbed his collar with both hands:
"Tell me! Falstad, has the courage surged in your body disappeared?!"
This kind of satire on courage is considered cruel in the dwarf tradition. Falstad, the High Lord of Wildhammer, was so angry that he almost jumped up at the ridicule from his friend. He responded loudly:
"Kurdran! You have to consider the continental form!"
"I don't care about the mainland form!"
Kurdran walked outside the castle on his own:
"I only know that Quel'Thalas is killing trolls, and we are also killing trolls, so we and Quel'Thalas are friends! Falstad, whether you are willing or not, I am going to try
!”
"Listen to me! Kurdran! Don't be impulsive!"
"I won't listen! Sky never taught Wildhammer weakness!"
Griffin knight Kurdran turned back and waved the warhammer in his hand fiercely: "No one can challenge the Wildhammer in the Hinterlands! Not the trolls, nor the orcs!!!"
"Alfonso! Gather the gryphon knights! Let us kill the orcs!"
"We want to tell the greenskins! We are not the same as the weak Bronzebeards! We are... the Wildhammer of the Sky!!"
