Orc Tyrant

Tamworth touched the oily bald head, took a deep breath, then leaned back, pressing the yellow-brown wooden chair to creak.

On weekdays, he wouldn’t be so careless about this chair he used for ten years, but today is different. After all, when you hear a mighty Oak army rushing towards you, it’s hard to keep it. The usual tolerance.

Curse those **** green-skin bastards!

Tamworth didn't show his irritation. He folded his arms across his chest, fixed his eyes on the pile of documents on the table, and said nothing.

The staff officers and officers in the command headquarters were by his side, but they would not express their opinions before the commander spoke, and the atmosphere became so rigid.

Until a sudden knock on the door interrupted the solemn silence, Tamworth finally raised his head.

"Sir, Zun King Mengerstu refused to implement any retreat plan. He asked us to assist him in defense and counterattack."

It's another **** good news.

There was a bitter smile on Tamworth's face, but his heart was desperately eager to pull the black boar out of his pigpen and throw it into the wilderness, so that he could have a good conversation with Ok!

What gave the fat pig confidence that he could withstand Oak's offensive?

This so-called "capital" with only mud walls?

Or his "warriors" with machetes and spears?

Or did he expect to rely on such a dissatisfied infantry division to block his guns?

Tamworth really wanted to say something swearing. It was unlucky enough to be sent to the horrible place of Harrell, and then he had to stand up with an idiot who God knew if it was an inbreeding.

As the commander of the Harar Division, he has no complaints about leading this long-established army. After all, soldiers have to obey. Even if the sanitary conditions in this place are harsh and the climate is harsh, it is just an experience and a hard time for him. practice.

This place has a special meaning for the empire. In a sense, the Zun royal family was raised here by the empire. In this place where 100,000 people live, almost 99% are Zun people. They are loyal to the royal family and work hard to go. Supporting the profligate King Zun, surrounded by a pile of mud huts, is the dazzling "Golden Palace"-a complex of buildings composed of gold leaf and brass.

Wealth comes from King Zuen’s distribution of trade routes and the squeeze of his subjects. It is said that King Zuen has 99 wives. He is so fat that he can hardly walk normally. Traveling requires 20 people to carry a sedan chair.

With such a trash, he actually started to point fingers at him.

"Did he eat too much!?"

"Defensive? Counterattack? I heard that right?"

"That idiot! According to the latest information reported by the only living Ranger, it is the Blood Axe tribe! The cruelest group of lunatics among Ouke!"

Without waiting for Tamworth to speak, the officers were already quarreling.

It can be seen that everyone does not want to stay here, but as the highest commander, Tamworth has his own considerations.

Due to special political reasons, the Harrell Division is an independent division. It is not directly affiliated to the Axum Army. Therefore, Tamworth is not sure about the current military commander’s thinking. He must have received information about Ouke’s invasion, but So far there is no clear opinion, and the telegram sent to Cusconar has not been replied.

This made Tamworth feel a little uneasy. The Empire's response was unexpectedly slow. Although it was not very fast before, the Military Affairs Department could still show some efficiency in the face of Oak.

There is not much time to allow him to hesitate, and it is not very far here in Oak's forward force.

There is a railway in Harar, but the train capacity is limited.

Tamworth tapped his fingers on the table top, his heart tormented like an omelet on an iron pan.

"The third regiment, you are deploying defense on the southern city wall, and the fourth regiment is blocking the station. No one is allowed to approach it. The other troops are on standby.

When this order was given, everyone realized that Tamworth was about to leave, but he hadn't made up his mind yet.

"I'm going to find that pig."

The general cap was buttoned on his bald head, and Tamworth tethered his gun to his waist at the same time.

"If I can, I wish I could shoot him."

This sentence is of course a joke, but no one at the scene can laugh. The quality of the situation will largely depend on whether Tamworth's persuasion is effective.

The inhabitants of Harar also seemed to feel the approach of Ouke. The men began to prepare their own weapons. Many people only had bows and spears for hunting. But in their opinion, these things were similar to those of the Empire. The gun is just as effective.

Busy women can be seen everywhere in the narrow streets. They carry precious water from outside the city to their homes with their heads in huge jars. This is a pre-war reserve. Although the residents here rarely participated in the war, they were nervous. The atmosphere made them move instinctively.

But as Tamworth expected, there was not much time left for them.

"This nest looks worse than my stockade!"

Standing on a large red rock protruding from the ground, Glak half-squinted his eyes and looked into the distance. The surrounding yellow-brown mud wall and mushroom-like shabby houses reminded him of the sadness of farts. The gathering point.

The dried shrimp here seems to be worse than the fart.

"Head, that room is always chattering!"

A younger brother pointed to the golden building complex in the center of the city, which was so conspicuous in the sun, like a gem in a mud pond.

Glak snorted and kicked some curiously looking farts away.

"Flash has a fur ball for use!"

He turned back and looked back. The noisy and noisy troops came from a distance like a torrent, and his feet could already feel the trembling of the earth.

"Blow the trumpet! Attack immediately!!"

"Head, don't wait for the mechanics to fire..."

Before he finished speaking, Glak grabbed the guy who had spoken and threw him directly under the rock amidst the screams of horror.

"Attack now!!!"

Ooooo~~~~~~~~~~~!

Twelve huge bone horns made a thunderous muffled sound, and the rushing team suddenly accelerated, turning from a surging river into a rushing waterfall.

There is no queue or organization. The entire blood axe legion is like a frightened herd, rushing straight towards Harrell, as if to use its own kinetic energy to directly overturn the city.

Glak returned to his war beast. He held up his battle axe, and an old war banner stood high behind him.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ! ! ! ! !

From the moment he led the Bloodfang Guard to the city, the destruction was a doomed result, either him or the enemy.

This is the way of war that belongs to him, to Grak, and to the entire Blood Axe Legion.

Assault assault and assault, kill and kill and then kill, all calculations and plans are just weird thoughts that slow their hands and feet, and they will only use the purest means to crush the enemy.