Orc Tyrant

They are here again.

Donstantinovich saw through the optical telescope a dark and fuzzy line on the horizon, similar to a low thundercloud. The sound was similar to thousands of pairs of boots stepping on the ground, and the churning and roaring of old engines continued.

The sound of the nearby Ouke group continued to rise, and the rumbling noise made the broken stone sculptures of the fortress tremble constantly.

This is a terrifying thing, just like the beat of a war drum, forming a war beat that reaches the most savage part of the soul, which makes Constantine's heart beating fast, even though he knows the distance. It takes a few minutes to make a contact.

"Only fighting is our true piety, until we die!"

The words of Pastor Diodesius were amplified by the loudspeaker on his helmet, passed through the **** retaining wall, and spread to all directions.

These words are very familiar to veterans like Don Stein, but he knows that the pastor’s words are of no use to the situation of the battle. The continuous attacks for a whole week have exhausted everyone physically and mentally, and the reinforcements still seem to be indefinitely. Who can count on anything.

Don Stein didn't need to look around, but he could notice that the conflicting emotions were concentrated on every face full of dust and hollow eyes.

The terrible odds of winning and the shocking loss have made everyone win without any illusions. The Idley Fortress where the two regiments were originally stationed now only has less than two thousand people left, and most of the others have died in the wilderness outside. And inside the fortifications.

During this period of time, Ok’s attack was much more serious than before. Many people were caught off guard. Even the fortress commander was helpless. The original fortress was designed to deal with the small-scale Oker raid team. When the real large-scale offensive comes. At that time, they were stunned to discover that everything they had prepared before was useless.

And the most frightening thing is that Ouke’s attack this time is obviously very planned. First, it cut off the railway, then the telephone line, and destroyed most of the routine. Originally, the various strongholds and fortresses could support each other, but Ou Ke split them all up.

Most of the people who were sent out for help have never returned, and the few who barely escaped told terrible stories.

The roads are full of green skins, whether they are roads or hidden country roads, they come like an overwhelming flood, and the fortresses have become isolated islands.

Oak did not make great efforts to conquer these difficult strongholds, but directly rushed out of the gap in the defense line and went straight to the unobstructed Great Plain of Gramatia.

But this does not mean that they are safe. In fact, they are already under siege. The destruction is only a matter of time.

Right now, this is undoubtedly the last offense of Greenskins.

The breeze blew over them, blowing the peculiar smell of the Ouke herd—the foul smell of sweat, the smell of blood, and the rotten smell of fungi.

Donstein’s nose had lost most of its functions in the last battle, but he didn’t need to smell these smells and would hate them.

The wind blew the huge flag on a fortress next to him. The tattered pennant resembled a four-folded spiritual flag, and the imperial lion pattern on it seemed to increase the dusty heat.

This is our home, Donstantin suddenly thought.

Our country.

These walls are permeated with honor and sacrifice. This courage is a legacy that transcends time. Without such a virtue, people like Donstantin would find that they are not worth fighting for this country.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ! !

Greenskin's approaching noise grew louder, and Oak's roar fiercely drowned out the priest's final speech.

Donstein checked his gun, then straightened up.

"Soldiers! Listen to my orders!"

Ouke’s main force rushed to the fortress, not backing down because hundreds of his compatriots were burnt to coke.

Most of them have already seen the imperial troops shining in the sun, and the upcoming battle only inspires them to run faster.

A huge number of drooling and gasping thugs ran forward, rolling up a large cloud of smoke and dust, and the smell and thunderous noise filled the air.

On the position of the city wall, the guards of the fortress of Idley watched in horror at the size of the troops rushing towards them. The dusty plains were covered with green leather and their crude military vehicles, and countless war trucks served as the vanguard. , Surrounded by huge war motorcycles.

Behind the machine is a tsunami-like infantry, an unimaginable number of gun boys and slashers.

In the center of this cluster, there are several stolen vehicles and tanks standing, and the huge boss proudly stands on the roof, roaring into the air, and driving his subordinates forward.

When the first wave of high-speed war trucks entered range, countless artillery fire broke out from the fortress wall, and the precisely deployed machine guns formed a continuous barrage.

Some of the trucks suddenly rolled over and exploded into a ball of flames. Others slammed directly behind them, but most of the trucks still drove firmly towards the already crumbling retaining wall.

There are eight heavy artillery in the Idley Fortress. They are the fulcrum of defense. Most of the super-Ok tilted firepower that is currently working hard, these large-caliber howitzers provide the defenders with more psychological protection than material.

But Gutka has a way to destroy Xiami’s psychological defense...

"You bastard! Wait for me to go up—"

When the hapless agent boy was desperately trying to grab the roof, the **** kicked him on the chin.

In the distance, sad shrimps huddled on the wall and looked around. A large group of soldiers noticed the exclamation and raised their guns and aimed at Ok. The bullet hit the wall beside the agent kid who was hanging in the air. Go on, and the **** kicked him again.

"You shit, Ursott!"

The fart yelled, kicking Ursot in the face and stepping down on his head.

"They are shooting you!"

When the last stomped on the face of the special warfare kid, he couldn't hold on anymore.

The fingers on the top of the dead house were released, and he screamed and fell down the wall, staring at the **** all the way, trying to spit at him.

The **** watched his agent boy fall, so he leaned on the wall and spit out a big mouthful of sputum at him, hoping that the sputum would hit him before he fell flat on the stone road.

But then a string of bullets forced him away from the wall, and he stomped his feet in frustration that he would never know the result.

The remaining Okker kid is busy on the roof.

Two of them were carrying a rocket launcher, and the other was running around with a rivet gun, fixing the machinery to the wall.

The special warfare bosses are very aware of their effects, and the **** can’t bring anything other than good news back to their war boss. Now these dwarves can’t mess up, even if the clumsy and **** Ursott fell off the wall and It warned that all humans cannot.

On the edge of the roof, the fart saw the Eight Gates stop in the center of the fortress, right in front of the assembly field.

For unknown reasons, the special warfare leader already knew that they would be there, even yesterday.

The gun mount shook slightly, tracking a target several kilometers away.

Then there was a loud noise, and a batch of shells shot out, screaming into the sky and disappearing out of sight.

A few seconds later, the fart spirits heard the explosion of a distant warhead falling into Ouke's position.