Orc Tyrant

Chapter 662: City Breaker (3)

"——A few hours after the break of dawn, the actual battle was over. The raid on this thousand-year-old city turned into a massacre. At least tens of thousands of people were killed. It has a history of 1,352 years. The Cathedral of San Guernica has been damaged beyond repair, and such destruction continues. It used to be the burial place of Saint Guernica, but now it has become a barbaric den, countless precious ancient times. The relics are destroyed, don’t they really have a little appreciation? I’m confused."

After making the last stroke on the notepad, the harpy raised her head, and a shelling in the distance attracted her attention.

The explosion dyed the sky red, and the burning fragments revolved to the ground. The rapidly passing rockets intertwined bright trajectories on the sky. She stood on the roof of a ruined hospital that was once a hospital and witnessed the destruction of a city with her own eyes.

Oak is besieging the station on the outskirts, and maybe there will be the last guard there, maybe there is only a group of helpless civilians, but the end is doomed.

The rest of the city has either burned out or is burning. The attackers seem to have no intention of occupying here. They destroy everything they can see as much as possible. In her memory, even the most barbaric people know it. Keep some useful ones.

But Ouke, they seem to be more inclined to destroy everything first, and then find the "useful" from the remaining ruins, just like deliberately smashing a beautiful plate, and then randomly pieced it together into an ugly defective product.

It is said that other Ork troops have curbed this behavior, but it is clear that Grak is a warlord who quite obeys "instinct."

Suddenly, she was a little grateful that at least Ouke was a sexless creature, otherwise, driven by such a cruel and violent instinct, something more terrible would happen...

"Could it be that their conquest is only destruction..."

She couldn't bear to read this ruined picture any more, fluttered her wings high, and then fell into a small garden, which was the temporary command post of Grak.

Glak is a warlord who likes to charge, but after repeated lessons from Guk, he at least knows to keep a place for information feedback and communication, so he chooses to establish his own command post in a noble garden. Most The neuroboy is also focusing on this.

Of course, there are many valuable cultural relics collected.

Although it sounds a bit humiliating, the identity of a "pet" also brings her a lot of convenience. It's just that the boys won't rob her of what she wants, and Glak's **** authority can radiate everything related to him. .

But a person's ability is limited after all. She can only try to save text and painting cultural relics, such as sculptures and other large cultural relics. She has nothing to do. She can only watch the Okers blow them up, just for satisfaction. Their desire for destruction.

"Bird!"

A nervous boy waved his hand immediately after seeing her.

"Do you know where the boss is! Find him if you have something to do!"

"I do not know either."

Quelsana shook her head.

"Forget it."

"what's up?"

"Dolu found a handful of dried shrimps underground, quite a lot, and asked the boss if he would handle it himself."

"that--"

"The boss is not here, so I just let him blow up the matter."

With that, the nerve boy swayed away, and then Quelsana noticed that there was still a string of horrible accessories hanging on the other's neck-a severed hand strung with iron wire, there were probably more than a dozen. They all seem to be female in terms of color and size...

The harpy turned around and patted her chest to calm down her tumbling mood and stomach, although her appetite hadn't improved much since she came to Gough.

But she always thought that she could have a day to adapt, but now it seems that it is not so easy.

Quelsana turned and came to the pool in the garden. The small pool was full of corpses. Many of them were not mutilated to death, but plunged into the water. The despair lingering here made Quelsana. Every glimpse of him shuddered.

Although she is not an official priest, she is still a spiritualist—this is what the banshees call for casters who are not very talented.

On the edge of the pool, there were more corpses, and Quelsana walked along the rows of dead corpses, watching their dead faces.

Suddenly, she stopped to check a young boy in a gorgeous gown, his body was not damaged too savagely in the battle.

The gift of the sensory person allows her to see many things that ordinary people can’t see. For example, the traces he left in this world are only fear, anger, and confusion—the fear that she is about to die here, and these The anger and confusion of inhuman invaders defiled their homeland... from not understanding why they are so confused.

This last emotion surprised Quelsana very much.

How could he not understand why Oak wanted to fight this world? Haven't the officials of the Benedict Empire ever introduced this kind of imminent threat to them? Don't they really know that there is a sharp sword hanging above their heads?

Quelsana looked closely at the deceased and found that under his gown was a lightweight armor that clung to his body, elegantly showing his tall and slender figure.

Is he also a fighter? Or to put on this armor just to increase courage?

Most of the people here are elegant, with fine skeletons, and their facial features are sharp and angular, like the statues of the mansion where they live. Quelsana judged that they should be the military aristocracy of the Benedict Empire, from the empire. In a certain western province, perhaps the ancestor was one of the conquerors hundreds of years ago.

But now, they can only stare silently, lying in the homeland where more than ten generations have lived with the black blood stains left at the corners of their mouths.

They all died by swallowing poison, and would rather kill themselves than fight.

Quelsana felt a little sad.

"Why are you staring at these?"

As soon as the voice arrived, Quelsana could smell the hot sweat and perceive Oak's iconic wildness.

The harpy turned around and found himself facing a huge mouth full of sharp teeth, and a few pairs of amber eyes that only saw him as food. After three big jumps, he was standing. Luck, he still carried the terrifying battle axe on his shoulder, with blood and meat still hanging on it.

The warlord came over and kicked the young man's body into the pool.

"They can't give you anything unless you can talk to the corpse?"

"I am not a necromancer."

Quelsana shook his head, and he saw the confusion in Glak's eyes.

"The secrets of the dead are unknown. Only the living can help us expand our understanding of these worlds."

"What's worth knowing? If they resist, we kill. If they don't resist, we kill too. That's it. You complicate things, bird."

"maybe."

Quelsana didn't want to argue. She looked into the distance and cast her gaze to the sky. Those crying and massacres were out of her sight, but they were extremely real.

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