Red dragon: in charge of natural disasters

“Boom!”

An earth-shattering roar sounded, and another bomb exploded in the air. The flames created by the explosion devoured and burned everything around.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder and the smell of blood.

The land became devastated, with craters from the explosion, broken shrapnel, and piles of charred orc corpses.

But at this time, the intensity of the bombing had weakened a lot compared to before.

The wyverns needed to replenish their ammunition after all, and during this temporary safe interval, the orcs stepped on the corpses of their own kind, crossed the burning sea of ​​fire, and launched a nearly crazy charge.

Even if the animal skins on their bodies were burning and their feet stepped on the burning red rocks, the orcs didn't care, they just rushed forward.

Often orcs stepped on landmines and were killed on the spot. The lucky ones could still keep their lives, but their legs were blown off.

After stepping on a landmine, an orc picked up his bloody legs. He crawled on the ground, twisted his body and screamed: "It's not over yet, I can still charge"

"Waaaagh!"

The orcs rushed forward and stepped on the bodies of their companions regardless of everything. The disabled orc lying on the ground was trampled into a pulp.

The death of their own kind did not scare them, but made them more violent and excited - the spores in the air became the best catalyst for the orcs.

"Let's go! Those big birds have no eggs!"

"I'm going to tear them apart! Stew these guys into broth! My little brothers died in the fire!"

"For Gruumsh!"

The fanatical war roars echoed in the wasteland, and the orcs regrouped and marched towards Avenderdan - or the Dragon City.

After suffering nearly 100,000 casualties, the orcs finally approached Blackrock Mountain and came to a place several kilometers away from the fortress wall.

However, these poor green-skinned orcs did not know that these rounds of bombing were just a small test, and the real test had just begun.

They did not know how much preparation the Burning Empire had made in order to completely exterminate these orcs, and how many military researchers were calculating and planning for this war day and night.

In the distant imperial positions, hundreds of heavy artillery were ready, with their black muzzles pointed at the sky.

"Hehe, this time we have to bomb him to his heart's content." The legionary commander of the Ogre Artillery Corps held a cigarette in his mouth, grinning, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth - and a hideous and ugly smile.

"Legion Commander, those orcs are within our range!" The voice of the scout came from the intercom.

The imperial dragon cavalry is often used as scouts, and can take advantage of the air advantage to overlook the entire battlefield and spy on a lot of enemy secret intelligence.

Big Head spit out the cigarette in his mouth, stamped it out with his foot, and then asked slowly: "How many people are there on the other side?"

The flying dragon knight hovering in the sky held up a telescope, squinted his eyes, looked at the densely packed sea of ​​orcs, and whispered: "Legion leader, their number is unbelievable!"

"How many are there? Tell me the number! Damn it, why are you dilly-dallying?" The ogre legion leader cursed impatiently.

The scout quickly looked at the sea of ​​orcs all over the mountains and answered truthfully: "According to conservative estimates, there are about 300,000 orcs within our range, and there are countless orcs behind them."

"300,000?"

After learning this information, even Big Head couldn't help but widen his eyes, his face full of surprise, and then he laughed wildly: "Hahahaha! Great, there are so many of them, just what I want!"

The ogre waved his hand and roared at the artillerymen in the position: "Fire! No need to calibrate, just bomb as much as you can! Bomb as much as you can, there is enough ammunition!"

"Long live the legion commander!"

"Long live the empire!"

"For His Majesty Cassius!"

Suddenly, there were bursts of warm cheers in the position, and the artillerymen were overjoyed, and then began to load ammunition in a hurry.

Those who can become artillerymen in the empire have some special hobbies-for example, they like to watch living things being blown to pieces.

The players of the artillery corps were even more overjoyed. In such war missions, they can always get the most experience without having to fight hard.

"Boom--"

The artillery roared, and at the ogre's command, hundreds of heavy artillery fired together, and the shells drew beautiful arcs in the sky and fell towards the orcs in the distance.

Hearing the whistling and roaring of artillery fire, the orcs were a little confused and felt puzzled.

"What is that?"

"Wait. That sound again, I know, it's those eggs that can set fire! Ouch! Why are you hitting me?"

"You fart, I thought only the strange birds in the sky could lay that kind of eggs! There are no strange birds in the sky now, where do the eggs come from--"

However, at this moment, dense artillery shells poured down like raindrops, and then exploded in mid-air, instantly killing dozens of orcs.

The flying shrapnel was like a hot blade, cutting off half of the head of the orc who had just spoken.

The orc was still angry, his face turned red, and he used up his last bit of strength to retort: ​​"I said it was that kind of egg."

"Bang!"

The next moment, accompanied by a thunderous explosion, the explosion engulfed everything around.

The Empire's artillery positions were extremely busy, with hundreds of heavy artillery firing non-stop until the barrels turned red and stopped to cool down, and countless shells broke through the air and poured over the heads of the orcs.

In a sense, the Empire's artillery bombardment was more violent than the bombing, with higher intensity and longer duration.

The shells fell into the crowd, and the broken shrapnel and terrifying explosion could take the lives of dozens of orcs - but these shells could not create a sea of ​​fire that burned the earth like napalm bombs.

However, the orcs were still fearless. They waved their bone sticks and stone spears, and continued to charge forward against the dense rain of shells.

"Waaaagh!"

"Charge!"

"Those exploding eggs are made of steel! If we rob their strange birds, we will have endless iron!"

The orcs' brain circuits are still so strange that they actually mistook shells and bombs for eggs laid by "strange birds".

However, with their short lifespan of one month, those who can think of these are already "wise men" among the green-skinned orcs.

"Waaaagh!"

"I'm going to rob them all!"

The war cries echoed on the battlefield, but were drowned out by the roar of the explosion. These green-skinned orcs walked through the artillery fire and actually advanced the front line.

These orcs who were charging at the front either stepped on landmines, or were killed by shells falling from the sky, or were burned to death by the flames created by napalm bombs. There were many ways to die, which were simply bizarre.

But no matter how miserable their companions were, these green-skinned orcs still charged forward, stepping on the corpses of their own kind.

Their simple brains cannot understand words like courage and faith, let alone those complex magic circuits, but they can clearly know one thing - we have to fight!

"So that's it. Did the army of the Burning Empire occupy North Ethel and capture Avendeldan with such power?"

On the hill behind the orc camp, Solo gritted his teeth, his face was so gloomy that ink was about to drip out.

Please...you...collect_6Ⅰ9ⅠBookⅠBar (Six\\\\\\Nine\\\\\\Book\\\\\\Bar!)

Even if the lower-class orcs are as numerous as grass, they can't withstand such consumption! According to his observation, in this short half day, the loss of green-skinned orcs has reached more than 200,000!

According to his observation, each explosion almost has the power of a third-level spell, and the army of the Burning Empire has created thousands of such explosions!

Could it be that the Burning Empire has dozens of legendary mages/priests who release low-level spells all the time to kill hundreds of thousands of lower-class orcs?

What a joke!

The Red Blood Tribe has long been in the remote Ugo Prairie, and its path to the Fianso Continent has also been cut off by the Mountain Kingdom and blocked by the towering Black Stone Mountains.

They are just like the former Northern Kingdom, living in a corner, unable to understand the changes in the world situation, and their only enemy is the Dwarf Kingdom.

A few months ago, some strange humans also appeared on the Ugo Prairie. They called themselves "Starfallers" from outer space, and came to help them defeat the Mountain Kingdom.

But the orcs at that time did not believe these aliens, but looked at them greedily - on the barren prairie, all resources are extremely precious, and so are human corpses.

So the orcs killed these humans, cut off their heads, peeled off their skin, and even tried to stew their flesh and blood into broth.

But strangely, not long after, the remains of these humans disappeared out of thin air, which made the hungry orcs feel particularly annoyed and disappointed.

Of course, these orcs are even less likely to know that the emergence of the Burning Empire has brought great changes to the world, and the way of war has undergone earth-shaking changes.

Solo growled, "We can't go on like this. We must intervene, otherwise these inferior orcs will be killed sooner or later.

Damn the Burning Empire. Their spells are endless and free of charge."

"Mok!"

He called out loudly.

Mok is the current shaman of the Red Blood Tribe. He also accepted the gift of the black water and became a half-green "new orc", and mastered many powerful divine arts.

However, it is hard to say whether the power of these divine arts comes from the orc god or some indescribable existence.

"Captain, what do you want?"

A low, hoarse voice came, and a hunched orc appeared in front of everyone.

He was wearing a heavy black robe, and his exposed green skin was covered with large patches of moss, which was dense and looked quite creepy, and also exuded a certain stench.

Solo sighed and asked, "Shaman Mok, the magic of the Burning Empire is so powerful, how can we break in?"

Mok laughed sinisterly, "It's very simple, we just need to let the great Father God and Mother God protect us, and the orcs will be able to break through the blockade of fire and occupy the territory that should belong to us."

Solo frowned, but did not bother about who the "Mother God" Mok mentioned was, and just ordered:

"Then do as you say, cast magic, and let those inferior orcs. No, our brave warriors break through the enemy's blockade."

"Okay, Great Chief, then it's as you wish."

Mok raised his head, and his face, covered with moss and like the roots of an old tree, gradually wrinkled, revealing an extremely terrifying smile.

Guarded by several strong orc warriors, Mok came to the front battlefield. He raised his head and looked at the sky occupied by artillery shells, and then looked at the charging green orcs.

Mok raised his slightly trembling hand, clenched the dark green scepter filled with viscous liquid in his hand, and said softly: "Ignorant people, you don't know what kind of power you have!"

You will be saved, you will be the beginning of the disaster, and you will be the destroyer of the old world! "

The orc shaman's voice became more and more passionate and excited. At the end, there was even a strange light in his turbid eyes.

Mok raised the scepter high, and it kept spreading a kind of spore hyphae invisible to the naked eye to the surrounding soil, trees, and rocks.

The spore hyphae gradually spread to the battlefield like mist, linking the green-skinned orcs together, weaving into a complex network with tens of thousands of nodes, making them seem like one.

Every orc was constantly "thinking" about this, craving bloody killings and exciting wars, and they all wanted to vent their instinctive desires.

After being connected by the network, the green-skinned orcs actually developed a kind of ignorant "collective consciousness".

The eyes of these orcs included in the spore network were scarlet, mucus dripped from the corners of their mouths, and their breathing became more and more rapid. They all raised their heads and let out a shocking war cry.

"Waaaagh! "

Instantly, countless spores rose up and condensed into a translucent mesh in the air, and a strong force field was stimulated on the orcs.

In the center of this network, a powerful green-skinned orc named "The Mountain" threw a boulder, smashing the shells from the sky, and then roared: "Waaaagh! Follow me! These things are nothing to be afraid of, kill them all!"

The Mountain is extremely burly, three meters tall, with muscles as hard as rocks in the mountains, the veins on his head are about to burst, and his whole body exudes an extremely strong force field.

"He is the boss!"

"Yes, he looks very strong, let's follow him!"

"Waaaagh! For Gruumsh! "

Instantly, the green-skinned orcs cried out in surprise. They instinctively followed the steps of the giant mountain and attacked the fortress under the fierce artillery fire.

Under the influence of the mysterious force field, many shells became duds and were shattered before they fell. The angry orcs actually recycled these shells, disassembled them, and combined them to make them into handy weapons.

Of course, there were also losers who blew themselves to death in the process. (End of this chapter)