Orc Tyrant

The head of the Black Fire Guard wearing an iron helmet fell aside, and accompanied by the familiar and dull resonance of the collision of steel, the headless body landed on both knees and fell straight down to form a pile.

Behind the fallen corpse, the mysterious man swung his right arm to his side, and blood was still flowing on the chain sword, but not a drop of blood fell on his black robe.

Yushkin held the mysterious chain sword tightly, stepped closer and pushed his opponent back, his boots slammed into Shabal's damaged breastplate and tried to put him to the ground.

The nearly defeated Ouke warlord still refuses to fall. He has only one hand left. The internal organs that are about to fail are undoubtedly burned by the painful flames, but he still refuses to give up, in the grille of the helmet. He gasped, and his gaze shifted back and forth between Yushikin and the mysterious shadow.

In fact, Yushijin's right arm was also painful like a fire. This weapon brought a great burden to his body, and the tremor was almost crushing his hand bones.

He couldn't take what he saw as reality, especially when he saw the forearms and palms of the Ork warlord lying on the ground, the armor completely shattered.

But now he only wanted to end the enemy in front of him. He wanted nothing but to cut off his head and raise it high, shouting victory to everyone.

"ended."

An extremely real and familiar voice, but like a long echo in the theater, he appeared next to Yushkin, holding the same chain sword.

Yushkin still stared at Shabal, without paying any attention to the stranger.

"he's mine."

Shabal's breathing continued to wheeze, and it sounded like an engine was not running smoothly because of poor fuel.

Yushkin took a step towards it, and was about to bring death to it.

He approached it step by step, and its men were restrained by the night blades who suddenly entered, unable to support his boss, and Shabal could only hold his warhammer with one hand.

He turned a deaf ear to all this, he felt as if he was naked, and his blood was singing the adrenaline impulse.

He can kill it, he can kill this warlord, he is sure!

"Don't think you will win!"

Shabal roared, he stepped forward and faced the enemy. The ground trembled when it collided with the huge warhammer, and even the rock slab under Yushkin's feet was bent and gave up resistance.

The mysterious man took advantage of its distraction, and the palm covered by the black hand armor crackled. The anger from Hanan was transformed into an energy loss. When the warlord of Ouke rushed towards Yuhijin, he pushed it towards the oncoming man. Skull.

"what!!"

Shabal's helmet flew high in the witchcraft explosion, and blasted half of its hard fangs behind him. The wreckage that fell on the ground was blown and blown like dense tides from both sides.

"Die! Beast!"

Yushkin seized the opportunity, and the chain sword ploughed into Shabal's body again, this time on his knees.

Suddenly, the huge Ouke lost his balance and fell to his knees. He wanted to fight back, but more psionic shocks hit him, like thousands of razors cutting his skin, making it too busy for him to take care of.

Yushijin raised his sword high and pointed it at the enemy's neck. He wanted to put an end to it all.

Suddenly, there was an unusual crackling sound.

Yushkin froze in an instant. He tried to make a sound, but his neck was choked, as if a warlord's hand was pinching his throat.

He tried to give a vengeful blow, but found that his muscles couldn't move because of cramps, his lungs were tightly grasped, and he could barely breathe.

Click it.

Two weird Ouke appeared from the flash, one carrying many mechanical parts and a mechanical arm on his back, the other with abnormally swollen head and very weak body.

"Humph."

The mysterious man snorted and shook his robe off, and Yushijin could see him clearly—he possessed such a slender figure, covered with dark black and slightly spiked weird armor, like peeled flesh hanging on The armor was blackened by the newly condensed blood, and the helmet was like a scorpion bent over.

To express it, it is the inhuman weirdness--a form beyond humans' ability to appreciate.

"You can't save it."

The mysterious man's voice was soft but firm, and it was in Occitan.

The next moment, he appeared next to Shabal like a ghost, and the air trembled as he moved.

Ok, the big and big team also jumped up. Although he was not so fast, he instantly gathered majestic spiritual power.

In an instant, the two casters were twisted together, their will and body were in a stalemate, the surrounding metal made a harsh rubbing sound, and all the unused ammunition began to burst.

After a few seconds, both sides eased down.

A thunderous impact bounced along the ground, and they slammed back two steps each.

The mysterious man regained his footing and rushed towards the big head Ouke with his burning chain sword.

He chanted dark words, grabbed and pulled the shadow behind him, entwining his scorpion-like silhouette.

The perverted boy struggling to prop up the knees of his legs, and clenched the metal baton with both hands.

Its body is trembling, and it feels like its skull is shredded into a thousand pieces. It tries to pinch the broken pieces together and throw them at the enemy. The air vibrates as it digs deeper into the power it retains. .

With a series of howls, it unleashed another wave of invisible surges toward the mysterious man.

This time the other party just smiled. With a wave of the chain sword, he split the wave, and the shadow that entangled him grew horribly, transforming him into a vague and grinning ghost that forced him towards the abnormal kid.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!"

The perverted kid also understands that when he struggles, he no longer controls his strength and allows it to grow infinitely. Even his head begins to swell, and a horrible breath is coming here.

The impending shadow turned back, and instead of pursuing it, he rolled back to the spot and took Yushijin away.

And Shabal, also stood up again with the help of Okimid, the flash of teleportation was emerging around them.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"

The tsunami-like mental impact began to radiate the entire battlefield, and the surviving Black Fire Guards began to become crazy. They launched a wave of offensive with a nearly suicidal attitude, and killed and injured hundreds of humans, including many night blades, but no matter what How they kill, the end is already doomed.

This kind of mental shock is also a kind of terrifying harm to human beings. Many soldiers who did not die in the previous confrontation turned into dementia lying on their mouths in an instant. Only a small number of determined people were spared.

For Yushkin, who was suddenly taken flying, this sudden attack on his mind came without warning.

It was too broken, the scenes and moments abruptly poured into his mind, completely unable to recognize the sequence.

Running in the knee-deep polluted snow, making a rustling sound, blood spurted out and sprinkled a blood on the white mud.

"Blood, my blood, that is my blood."

The corpse of the wild wolf half-buried in the snow, the haze was so thick as morning fog, the screaming mother and sister ran towards them in the fog.

"Something must be done."

With the recoil of the rifle, the shells hit the ground, and the long-awaited reinforcements finally reunited, and their arrival trembled the ground.

"The taste of victory."

There are many familiar faces on the rusty and rotten blade of a weapon.

"Finally met again."

The agitation of the air.

Then there is the feeling of losing weight, the feeling of suffocation, the feeling of the eyeball being sucked dry, the feeling of numbness in the fingers because of the extreme cold, and the feeling of bearing a heavy burden on my head...

Stress, similar to telepathy rather than physical perception, presses on the soul rather than the body.

The earth was not just shaking, it was rumbling, and the sun was obscured by the shadow of the gods.

A white sun, a green shadow.

Then, on the edge of the siege of the senses, finally ushered in a sad release.

"Is it now?"

"Or in the past?"

The thread that controls the doll is broken, and weakness and freedom follow.

He lay on the ground, looked up at the mysterious man who saved him, and took a deep breath-it smelled like old blood.

"I couldn't kill it."