Orc Tyrant

The voices on the battlefield were so noisy, Rahn watched a huge green-skinned team pouring into his sight like an overturned basin.

It is impossible to guess the exact number, there are hundreds, maybe even thousands.

In this position, there were only 180 soldiers and three wizards.

"All the teams are focused on firepower! Be loyal to our motherland, and give these guys something to look good!"

The roar of the two heavy machine guns quickly overwhelmed the company commander’s roar. Rahn could see the smoke from the bullet hitting the ground. Some green skins in the dash suddenly fell over their knees and stomachs. Most of them had nothing on them. For protection, some are simply **** with some leather and rusty iron plates.

However, they did not stop under the machine gun fire, but accelerated their speed and rushed towards the position, shooting aimlessly with the crude guns in their hands.

Larne leaned out and fired a shot at the green skin below. His marksmanship was not accurate. In the shooting assessment of the recruits barracks, it was only at the middle and lower level, but the number of enemies was so many and so dense. , So there is no need to specifically target anything.

He glanced at his battle result, um, his bullet seemed to be concentrated on a small thing, it is said to be called a fart or goblin? He doesn't remember it very much.

However, it is always good to get the first blood in the military career, and Rahn's inner fear fades a little.

boom!

It was another shot. This bullet hit a green-skinned head and drilled a hole in its horned helmet, but the guy just shook his body a bit, and then continued to run, as if the bullet did not exist. What caused too much damage to it.

"Ugh!"

After a shot was shot, Rahn hammered the sandbag angrily, then stuffed the five-pack magazine into the barrel and continued firing. The standard rifle of the New California Republic is the best rifle in the civilized world of mankind. Speed ​​is still accuracy.

Greenskin was so crowded underneath that he hardly missed a shot afterwards. Rahn used chalk to count his kills until he drew out the three magazines. The number was 5-all assholes.

From the high and low levels of shelter, the soldiers guarding the high ground fired volleys at the enemy again and again. The intensive firepower caused many green corpses to lie on the ground with burnt black bullet marks.

But Oak was also fighting back, and some started throwing grenades and stick bombs in the most intensive directions.

Because of the height, most explosives bounced off the **** with a click, but occasionally grenades found their targets.

For example, something as thick as a human arm fell straight into the trench less than 20 meters away from Larn, and a rumbling explosion echoed in his ears.

Boom~~~!

Black smoke rose from the trenches, and Lahn saw red fragments splashing out of the trenches like raindrops, and scattered on the soil into small lifeless piles.

"Ready to drop bomb!!"

While the company commander roared, his blasting arrow pistol roared aggressively, and the man looked hideous when he pulled the trigger again and again.

Rahn grabbed the grenades piled beside him, made a throwing stance, and hooked the fuse at the tail with his fingers.

"throw!"

Zizi~~~

Rahn repeatedly recalled the skills learned in the boot camp, and waited 2-3 seconds after pulling the fuse, so as to shorten the reaction time of the enemy.

He spotted a bunch of green skins, seven or eight, piled side by side.

As his arm drew an arc in the air, Rahn noted that the smoking grenade flew into the enemy group. Although he did not shoot well, he was indeed a good bomber in the new barracks. Arm strength is far better than peers.

Boom~~~~~~~~!

The grenade exploded, and the green skin holding the machete and the axe was instantly pushed in all directions by invisible forces. Rahn saw at least three green skins lying on the ground and showing no signs of movement. This result almost made him jump with excitement.

Other people's grenades basically smashed into Greenskin's head, exploding them into howling ghosts and howling, and even the momentum slowed down.

Da Da Da~~!

A burst of noise rang out on the battlefield, and Rahn saw a dazzling light suddenly flashed in the surging green tide, and he subconsciously retracted into the trenches.

At the moment he just squatted down, a series of dense bullets hit the bunker he had been lying on, lifting up the mud, and the soldier on his right who did not react so promptly was very unlucky. Hit.

Before he even had time to scream, his entire upper body exploded, and blood was splashed around like raindrops of minced meat, and even Larne splashed.

Rahn slowly raised his head, his nose was full of gunpowder smoke and fishy smell, and the bitterness of the tip of his tongue made him want to drink some water, but he felt as if there was something hanging on the back of his neck, so he reached out and grabbed it.

The start was sticky and slippery, with a bit of warmth, Rahn took it before his eyes and almost didn't vomit.

It turned out to be a section of intestine, with an unknown organ remnant connected to the end, I don't know if it is the stomach or what.

"Damn!"

Rahn hurriedly threw the thing away, then wiped his hand on his clothes, but the blood stains couldn't be wiped off!

"Hey! Don't be idle! Go to the back and get the grenade! Come on!"

Suddenly, a hand lifted him from the ground, and Lahn discovered that the company commander didn't know when he came to him.

"Yes!"

He saluted in a flustered manner, then turned and ran towards the hole where the ammunition was piled up.

The company commander looked at his staggered back, shook his head, and turned back to the fighting position.

At this time, heavy-duty boys with big toss guns appeared in the green-skinned army. They used rounds of bursts to suppress human firepower, creating opportunities for the boys' assaults. Ordinary bullets could hardly kill them, and grenades could not be thrown. so far away.

The flares rose one after another, illuminating the battlefield brightly, and Mountbatten had made sufficient preparations before coming.

"Hit a shot!"

Rahn’s company commander came to the only 75mm rapid-fire gun on the field, and shouted at the artillery lying on the ground:

"Give that guy a shot!"

"Yes!"

The artillery climbed up numbly, calibrated and loaded ammunition at the same time. The excellent performance of the New California Republic 75mm rapid-fire gun allowed it to shoot directly at the target accurately.

"Ready to fire!"

Except for the gunner, everyone turned around and covered their ears.

"put!"

boom!

As the muzzle kept flashing, the breech bolt violently hit the base and completed the steps of ejecting the shell.

The company commander slapped the gunpowder in front of him with his hand, took a look at the binoculars, and saw the green skin who had just carried a big spear and was now lying on the ground half-dead, his legs completely disappeared from below his knees. Obviously that one. The artillery shot was accurate.

"Okay! One more shot!"

The second shot arrived as scheduled, hitting a guy carrying a large iron box and constantly breathing fire.

In an instant, the thing turned into a huge fireball, which swept a dozen green skins around it, and turned into walking candles one by one.

Attracted by the firepower of more than two hundred strongholds, Ouke’s night attack troops are like flying insects chasing the light. They will fight here and there at the other. Their forces are more and more dispersed, and the momentum of the offensive is getting worse and worse. Occasionally, a few strongholds were captured, but they could not create a breakthrough opportunity because they were still full of enemies.

Time passed in such a meaningless see-saw.

In the middle of the night, the remaining Ouke finally returned to the position where the attack was initiated like a tide, and even the strongholds that he captured had no intention of defending.