Orc Tyrant

The blood dripped to the ground, and then gathered around the collapsed metal bracket and broken weapon.

Several scarlet palm prints were printed on the edge of the base of the lathe, marking the places where several militiamen were struggling to prevent themselves from falling down before they died. The blood spattered left a long stretch on the wall full of white slogans Pneumatic arcs, huge horsetail-like fans, or curled leaves

There were patches of blood, and some even extended to five or six meters high on the wall.

Grak stepped forward slowly.

This place is almost calm, the hustle and bustle of fighting outside is blocked by walls, and it sounds more like the roar of a distant storm.

Crowe walked behind, stopping from time to time to end the lives of wounded militiamen. The nerve boy stood in the sun at the far end. The blood on his metal rod was scorched and sizzled. A passage came in, two militiamen and a worker rushed towards him, he turned and used

A flash of lightning welcomed them.

Glak suddenly had a strange feeling.

It was an inexpressible intuition, closer than the pulse on a person's forehead. The sense of existence seemed to follow from his dream until it hovered over his shoulders.

It seemed that there was a sharp dagger on his temple, or it seemed that there were two heads in a helmet.

Grak held his breath for a while, trying to see if it was just an illusion caused by the excitement of the fight, or the echo of his breath.

Silence.

When he was about to start breathing again, the feeling came again, quiet but close, slow and calm, like a quiet wind.

"Who is there?"

"what?"

Crowe turned his head to look at him, his blood-stained face was full of surprise.

"What's up, boss? What do you see?"

"It's okay, it's okay!"

Grak waved his hand irritably.

"carry on."

At this moment, he felt like an idiot, just talking with himself, and a thought in his mind disappeared the moment that face became clear.

Except for the overlord Guk, Glak is fearless.

"Kill!"

Suddenly, a militiaman rushed towards him from the tan shadow, with a rifle in his hand and his bayonet flashing blue.

Grak didn't dodge or hide, waved the ripper, and dropped the man to the ground.

This smashed the rifle of the militiaman and broke his arm. The militiaman screamed.

"weak!"

When Grak was about to step on the man and finish his work, two more rushed towards him.

This time faster, but not more threatening.

He turned his body, swung the Ripper back, and slashed the bayonet that had stabbed him.

Another bayonet stabbed against his armor, instantly becoming twisted and twisted.

The ripper turned to slash at one of them, split that person's rifle, split his body in two, and his internal organs dripped to the ground.

Immediately, Glak kicked back at the other person, kicking him into the wall of the metal foundry together with the gun.

Bang!

The strong impact smashed the brick wall, and Grak stepped forward while the rubble flew, picked up a steel bar and pierced the man's chest, the man, and the wall behind him.

The militiamen were nailed to the wall, like an insect specimen posted on a display board, their limbs twitching uncontrollably.

"Ha, life is pretty hard."

Glak grinned and yanked the steel bars out, and the man's body collapsed at his feet.

Once again, the threat is so close.

Glak continued forward silently, through the tall arches, and into one of the factory's casting rooms.

The space here is extremely huge, the air is full of red light, it is like stepping into a furnace, a large number of trucks and hooks are suspended around him, thin, silent cables are like vines in the jungle, hanging from the roof .

This is like a steel clump, and the air is full of the smell of rust and the smell of charred coal.

Suddenly, Glak's pupils shrank suddenly, and he saw a scene that shouldn't have appeared.

"Ok?"

An executioner fell to the ground. He was split like a scallop. His decapitation knife broke off at his feet, and the nearby blood pooled into a pool. I don't know if it was his or something else.

This sight immediately put Grak into a defensive state, with the fastest speed and the highest alertness. Although he has superhuman reflexes, what really reminds him is the sense of imminent threat, the instinctive vigilance, It is the animal instinct that civilized races have lost in a safe house.

So the first blow was missed.

"Yeah!!!"

The attack came from the side, and Grak raised his arm to block the blow.

The attacker's sword shattered the armor and stabbed his forearm. The warlord swayed back, his face full of surprise and anger.

Surprised by the mighty power of the existence that raided him.

"good stuff!"

Grak regrouped and used his ripper to block the enemy's attack.

He was competing face-to-face with a black warrior, it was something wrapped in a black carapace, and the smooth armor was studded with various strengthening instruments and eye-catching syringes.

On the iconic beast-shaped helmet of the Misty Blade, the grid-shaped loudspeaker is emitting a cold howl that can freeze the soul.

For a while, Grak's actions were slightly slow, but his roar quickly overwhelmed the opponent.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ! !

They whirled and attacked each other like wild beasts in the foundry, and the challenge of the Blurring Blade Casco was more threatening than all the militias that Grak destroyed that day.

This guy's combat skills are extremely terrifying, the strength he has strengthened even exceeds that of ordinary boys, and his speed is even more breathless.

In a terrifying moment, Glak didn't know if he, finally, understood where the threat came from.

In a burst of fire, they fought all the way to the rear conveyor belt.

The silver-black armor of the Blurring Blade glowed with a slick luster under the weird light. His claws danced like a strip of light, but Grak’s combat skills were more sophisticated. He seized the opportunity and used an axe. The handle delivered a lightning strike, smashing Casco's breastplate.

Casco took a back jump and drew a distance. He steadied his feet when he landed and immediately launched a counterattack.

"Yeah!!!"

The axe and claws crossed each other, biting each other firmly.

Casco hit Grak with his shoulder, trying to push him away, but he seemed to hit a mountain. Instead, he staggered backwards and crashed into a row of control systems.

The console was smashed apart, and the fragments scattered and splashed, like spring petals under the light.

Some bushings were knocked out of the support range of the conveyor belt, smashed on the polished metal floor, and rolled into broad daylight in a mess.

"Don't do it yet!!!"

Casco yelled, pushed away the trash in front of him, stepped on the ground glass **** and rushed towards Grak.

Grak raised his great axe and waited for the opponent to come and die.

Suddenly, there was a pungent smell of resin and antiseptic spices in the air. Dark, sickly flashes of energy jumped between the collapsed areas of the factory like the wrong neurons, and flames of various colors emanated from the explosion. Twisting and crashing into the surface of the undamaged wall.

At the same time, the weird and groaning harmony, like thousands of voices, began to fill the entire factory.