Orc Tyrant

Bruce could hear the sound of killing.

He can distinguish it clearly, just like reading a sheet of music in front of him. He knows the very different fighting calls between Oak and the salvo used to assist a wave of offense and defense. the difference.

The church that Mountbatten gave him to garrison is a place not at all suitable for the great warriors to fight back.

Not long ago, it was a refuge for refugees, but now those simple fortifications have become the only line of defense against the Orc Army, which has a huge advantage.

"It sounds terrible."

A Shadow Blade squatted beside the narrow window frame of the church and said, his helmet shining coldly.

"They may break in."

"Our wizard friends can deal with them temporarily."

Bruce sneered.

"That Okk warlord wants to cut off some more heads, nothing more... can you hear it?"

The man tilted his head and tried to listen.

Their hearing, just like other senses, has been strengthened, but this shadow blade seems to be unable to understand Bruce's meaning.

"What did you hear, sir?"

"Chain saw axe, but they are not cutting steel or other weapons. They are cutting stone and metal. Ouke can't get past those roadblocks in a short time, so they are trying to cut a passage out of the ruins."

The man nodded in agreement immediately.

"General Mountbatten knows what he is doing. Oak only knows one way of fighting, and we can take advantage of this."

Bruce frowned when he heard the praise of Mountbatten. It was the failure of these so-called generals that allowed the situation to slide down the abyss step by step. They are the people who should be held accountable for this war, but they are now regarded as the savior. .

He cast aside his bitter expression and peered through the church window at the plaza studded with blackened ruins.

Miraculously, the windows of the church were intact, although the high heat of the explosion made the window frames twisted.

But the bulging and faded traces of vines around the window reminded Bruce of the giant eyes of an insect.

The inside of the church is more weird than the outside. The green twisted stones used to build the inner walls form a tall and gloomy organic shape, as if a cloud of gas that appeared to be highly toxic was instantly petrified as it tumbling and rising.

The altar at the back of the church is made up of dark purple stones. Its shape is like a spreading biofilm, as if a complex organ was dissected and nailed to the wall for easy observation.

As soon as he entered this place, he felt that something was wrong, it didn't seem like a sacred place at all.

Obviously, blood worship has also been infiltrated here. But even those cultists can only escape in front of Ok's offensive and discard their sacred altar.

"Ok is not an enemy to worry about, brother."

Bruce said casually.

"The one you need to worry about is us."

"We, sir?"

"Those guys who believe in evil gods lurking around us, they are the dangerous opponents."

Most of the surviving Shadow Blades are defending this church. Mountbatten deployed a large amount of support fire here, and then led a force to garrison the nearest trench.

There are also a few mortal teams scattered in some hidden bunkers around.

Most of the heavy weapons are arranged on the roof of the church, and the snipers are located by the windows of the church or in the deeper bunker. Most of the soldiers of Bruce’s troops are arranged in the bunker outside the church, or they are in the bunker. In the early days of the siege, inside a barricade built with fallen concrete.

More than two hundred Shadow Blades, a church in the defensive area, a throat leading to the center of the university.

Suddenly, the movement in the distance caught Bruce's attention, and he looked at the scorched house ahead from the twisted window.

A dark green shadow flashed.

He smiled, knowing exactly how Oak fought.

"The enemy appears!"

He issued a warning to his troops.

"The third block to the west, the second floor."

"Confirm the goal."

The non-commissioned officer in charge of fire support replied that he was an unsmiling officer who viewed war as a mathematical problem solved by shooting angle and firepower.

Bruce heard the mortar line operating on the roof and aimed his only heavy weapon at the area he pointed out.

"West Front, ready to meet the enemy!"

Under Bruce's order, the two companies quickly took their place by the church window on Bruce's side.

The tension before the battle was so wonderful, Bruce heard the joy of death gradually play in his blood, and a burst of ecstasy surged in his veins.

A blood-stained hand-to-hand battle on the battlefield means a chance to sublime in the war, but in order to keep the memory of the battle from being obliterated, this kind of impending death and glory will gradually appear, and the manic expectation must be inevitable at the moment when his whole body is circulating. less.

"See them!"

The officer reported from the roof.

"Ok corps! The main force is scattered about 2 kilometers on the front, and there are armors! Tanks and armored vehicles! Field guns, forward! Mortars, one shot with one shot, two shots with two shots, and three shots with two shots. Loading, covering the middle-distance open field, overlapping firepower!"

"Warlord Guard."

Bruce whispered as the cannon sounded.

He could see the enemy now. Hundreds of big men wearing heavy armor and full of guns and rockets gathered behind the empty doors and windows of the ruins of the building.

There is only one possibility for such gorgeous equipment.

The warlord has personally come to the battlefield.

"They will first wait for the support troops to be in place, and then they will use armored vehicles and tanks to transport the troops forward. The infantry will get off the vehicles at medium or close range. Everyone will not open fire before they appear."

In the distance, the tracks roared and turned, the huge metal battle flag shone, the paintings on the heavy iron armor were still gorgeous, and the dirty car tanks smashed the broken ruins into powder as they advanced.

Each tank is full of howling Oke, and under the stimulation of flames and blood, they regard any non-Ok as an enemy only worthy of destruction.

Perhaps for the careless Ouke warlord, the survivors of the first wave of offensive were ignorant fools who deserved to die, but he had obviously not considered the existence of Shadow Blade.

Bruce licked his lips expectantly when he was able to face the most elite Occan forces again. These fighters are worthy opponents.

He is willing to respect these enemies, or win their respect...

Through the telescope, he could see the enemy's heavy infantry stepping into the battlefield with great confidence. They looked like actors participating in a grand parade rather than soldiers marching towards war.

He can already taste the moment when the battle is about to begin.

He even longed for this fierce battle to begin immediately, but he also knew that when the time was right, the seductive flavor of the battle would be even more wonderful.

Guns from the tank began to penetrate the walls of the church, causing the windows to shatter one by one, splashing shards of marble and glass on the ground.

"Don't fire!"

The orders from the superiors were communicated one by one. Regardless of the situation, the soldiers under Mountbatten were still the most experienced fighters. They would not act without authorization like the undisciplined Ouke.

Bruce glanced carefully outside the window and saw that the rough trucks made the dusty passages cleared by the gunfire, and the larger tanks followed closely, acting as a mobile fort, and placing large bricks in the church. It shivered from its outer wall.

A handful of field guns also engaged in exchanges of fire. The artillery tried to paralyze the approaching tanks, and the weapons erected on the trucks tried to eliminate the counter-fire on the roof.

Suddenly, a torrent of rubble and smoke rose suddenly, and then the tracks of a tank broke open, a huge metal machine ran out of control and slanted aside, and the other exploded in a colorful fireball.

The installed anti-armor mines played its role, but nothing more.

On the contrary, Ouke's artillery fire became more intense, and his body in gray uniform flew past the window.

But everyone knows that those corpses are just appetizers, kicking off the grand death feast.

Bruce stretched out his claws, savoring the desire to fight that had gradually built up in him, until he felt that he could no longer bear it.

The familiar groan of the sharp claws in his hand also became a part of the melody. He found that he had begun to slip into the dance steps of the duel, and the wild power honed in countless killings flowed through him.