Orc Tyrant

"Old irons, there are only things you can't think of, no I..."

Ragner, the captain of the Green Devil squad, passed by silently, but was startled by the sound of a half-collapsed public toilet on the side of the road. It was obviously Ouke's voice.

He quickly lay down on a pile of rubble and concealed himself, and then carefully observed the surroundings, but there were no more Oukes.

Now he is in the main battle zone in the north of the city. The two sides have been here for 12 hours, but it is clear that the advantage is on the Ouke side, and the human defenders have gradually been compressed to several isolated strongholds.

And Ragnar’s task is to reach one of the strongholds—Aishewen Elementary School.

Originally there were twelve players who came with him, but after crossing a five-kilometer battle zone, only himself was left.

Ragnar took a breath after seeing a retching sound coming from the toilet and staying silent.

He knew that death had surrounded them all.

This area was originally a bustling residential area, but now it has become a slaughterhouse filled with fireworks.

The death of burning fell on those who were seriously injured or panicked. Many people failed to escape the flame storm that swept across the earth from the sky.

The violent shock wave that followed visited those who had escaped the killing in their houses.

The originally flat road has been pried open by large craters, and the broken telephone pole on the side of the road looks like a molar loose in the gums.

Although many people have fled here, many more have nowhere to go.

For those who stayed to fight their last, Oak brought them a **** death.

This kind of death will knock you down with a sharp axe or warhammer, leaving you only feeling the coldness of the ground below you, the burning of your own blood, and the painful screams of fatal trauma.

This kind of death will knock you down again and again, no matter how many times it needs to be repeated, until you can no longer get up, or you are too **** to look directly, then death will turn around and leave with disgust, looking for the next one. Knock down the soul on the ground.

These are Ok's as always atrocities, and they have become part of their lives.

Until now, most people are still confused and puzzled by Oak's natural violence, because they are too sudden and too absurd, just like some kind of deliberate opera, only presented for presentation.

It is also believed that such violence stems from greed and the desire for land.

Maybe this is the reason.

But Grana knew that was not the case. Nothing could drive the killing more than instinct, and nothing could ignite fear more than absurdity.

Oak just used the desire for the land as an excuse to reach out and pick up the armor and weapons. However, they are actually instinctive animals, and all their behaviors originate from a certain absurd god, creating the same absurdity.

Ragnar has been fighting them from start to finish, he knows these animals too much.

This is why only he survived among the thirteen people.

They used to rest in a camp full of refugees. That place used to be so safe that even in a war zone, there were several positions between it and the flames of war.

But all false security was destroyed at that dawn.

One of Oak’s main forces bypassed the gap in the line of defense and launched a surprise attack in the gloomy hour before dawn. Armored vehicles with green flags rammed and crossed from the front with almost no pause.

The commando immediately jumped out of the car, and then plunged into the camp.

The next step is burning and slashing.

Those **** are tall and sturdy, with all kinds of tattered helmets on their rectangular cheeks, but their skill in wielding axes and warhammers is terribly proficient.

They are so crazy that they want to slaughter all the creatures, thus completely eradicating the resistance.

Men, women, children, livestock, all cannot escape the end.

The Oukes did not show any mercy, and did not intend to capture captives or slaves.

The sound of a sharp axe is a wet sound of tearing flesh and bones, similar to the sapwood of a tree.

The sound of the warhammer was even more dull, like using a mattock to piling a pile of soil or ice, but the sound that followed was much worse than these.

Among them are the horrible screams of people who are in severe pain, body damage, dying, there are also the wailing and begging of the wounded and the useless, and the sound of killings, which will continue until the dead are no longer alive. No longer got up, no longer screamed, no longer a whole body.

At that time, Ragnafis barely had time to take up the weapon, and the other twelve green devils gathered around him to meet the first Ouke assault team who broke through the wall and rushed into the village together.

The panic has begun to run around. It is a blind flight in the dark, the smell of incontinence due to fear, and the heavy smoke that fills the nose.

Ragnar’s weapon is a double-edged knife, very suitable for one-handed use.

It is well-made and made of high-carbon steel. It is as heavy as a sturdy baby boy. Its blade is as long as a palm from head to toe. It has just kissed the whetstone last night.

But in Ragner's eyes, a weapon is just a simple tool, a lever that multiplies the strength of a strong arm onto a sharp edge.

Whether you want to chop wood or the enemy, this most basic principle is the same.

At that time, the battle had turned into a street fight inside the camp. Ragnar repelled the two Oukes from the tent. However, the small space restricted the swing of his arms, and he knew he had to rush out.

So he shouted to the other warriors around him to regroup.

They walked out of the tent in a package of swirling black smoke and came to the center of the camp, facing those Ork wearing helmets. The melee broke out immediately. There was no order at all, and countless sharp blades danced like windmills.

Fink, a member of the Green Devil Squad, was split longitudinally with a sharp axe, and he knelt on his knees in an angry roar.

A few seconds later, a hammer flew towards his head and broke his neck. The strong guy turned over and fell, his broken head dripping with blood.

Another squad member, Ge, tried to cover Ragnar’s flank, but Ge did not have time to take the weapon, only a broken square board he grabbed in his hand.

After that, a hooked iron spear drove straight in, completely piercing his stomach, and letting his internal organs spill on the snow like sausages.

Ge tried to fish them up, as if he could stuff his intestines back into his stomach, leaving everything intact, they were steaming in the cold wind.

"Damn it!"

Ragnar shook his head, and drove the terrible memories of last night from his mind. He didn't have time to think about it anyway.

"Hey! Are you still alive?"

Suddenly, a low voice made Ragnar alert. He squeezed the pistol and crouched on the ground to look around. Finally, behind the windows of a house that opened but did not collapse, he saw a picture full of dust. s face.

"Come here! There is a green-skinned patrol around here!"