The Rise of the Cemetery

(It’s the end of the month again, begging for subscriptions like crazy, the old wolf is going to eat meat again! Thank you Nanshanhuo for your support!)

The flames of war are gradually dying down.

After the bitter battle, the woodland smelled of blood and stench.

Vanel dragged his body full of criss-cross claw marks, and walked with difficulty on the battlefield full of corpses. From time to time, he would bend down and pick apart the messy corpses, and pull out the remnant of an orc in a horrible death.

On the battlefield with green smoke curling up in front of his eyes, there were corpses of orcs everywhere, and of course there were more strangely shaped insect corpses. The predators and war bugs were already ugly, but after being smashed into blood by the orc's big ax and hammer, it became even more impossible to look directly at them.

Vanel rummaged through three or four piles of corpses, but couldn't find a single orc who was still alive. His heart was filled with endless desolation and pain. Every orc corpse he picked up was carefully put aside, and he thought that there would be warriors from his tribe to take them back later.

Just when he accidentally touched the huge bone-deep wound under his waist and was sweating in pain, a wolf cavalry riding a huge coyote ran down from a distant hill.

"Respected Lord Vanel, Wolf Cavalry Thor reports to you!"

The wolf cavalry rushed forward and restrained the mount, pushed the wolf helmet on his head, and saluted the orc leader on the wolf's back.

"How is it, Thor? Are the bugs gone?"

"I'm afraid the war is not over yet, leader. The bugs have been gathering there since they retreated 10 miles away. They look like they are waiting for reinforcements. Ruthlake asked me to come back and report to you. If you have nothing to do, then I will Go back and keep monitoring them!"

"Tell Rutherlake for me, don't have close contact with the bug again, just keep a long-distance lookout. If there is any movement on the bug, remember to come back and report."

"Yes, leader!" Thor agreed in a low voice, and Thor patted the wolf's neck. The ferocious coyote covered with thick gray hair hissed and disappeared in an instant with the wolf cavalry. Behind the hills.

Vanel stood thinking for a moment, then turned and walked towards the orc camp behind the battlefield.

Countless orc women and children on the battlefield scrambled through the pile of corpses to find out every bloody orc corpse, and then led them to the rear for burial. And a large number of insect corpses were also gathered together by them, and then burned.

No way, those bugs seem to eat everything. If these insect corpses are left to them, maybe the next time the Zerg will be stronger.

The battle just ended half an hour ago, and Vanel led an army of 80,000 orcs to meet a side army of the Zerg. Perhaps before the war, he would never have imagined that just to annihilate the less than 50,000 Zerg troops, the entire orc army lost more than 20,000.

Orcs are brave, orcs are fearless, and orcs are the most powerful fighters in the entire Klein plane! But this cannot make up for the difference in equipment between the two sides.

The orc equipment is all taken from the barren northwest wilderness, where there is a lack of large metal deposits, and there is also a lack of blacksmiths who make sophisticated weapons and armor, so almost all orc fighters are on the battlefield on the alder. On the other side of them was a fully armed and terrifying bug. They are no longer pitiful bugs that can crush a large area to death with one foot, but terrifying war bugs that are as big as a mastiff and have a carapace as hard as a steel plate.

Especially those predators with all-jointed limbs are more like killing machines made of all-metal. Even if most of their bodies are crushed by orc warriors, they will use the remaining sharp jointed limbs to frantically dance and pierce.

Orcs may be so powerful that they can dance a small tree like the wind in their hands, but their bodies are still made of flesh and blood. Facing sharp jointed limbs mixed with special metals, a stab is a bloody hole, and a stroke is a blow. A huge wound.

When the mighty Tauren warriors lined up in a row, brandishing thick wooden stakes and smashing a bloody storm in the insect swarm, the swarms of beetles and war insects were also frantically bleeding them. Tauren warriors may be the bravest, but they are also the fastest sacrificers. They often fell into a short-lived state of madness after seeing blood, only knowing to charge towards the densest place of the insect swarm, and then swing the wooden stake like a smash.

But the swarm of insects is endless, and soon, their tall and vigorous figures were overturned by the swarm of insects surging everywhere, and then only the tooth-piercing sound of cracking and cracking remained.

Centaur warriors as rangers do not have the precise archery skills of elves, and half-range shooting and spear throwing can't do anything to the hard carapace of bugs. So they could only raise their spears and launch the most valiant death charge like the short orcs.

In the battle just now, the orcs built an indestructible body wall entirely with their own flesh and blood, and then wiped out most of the living forces of the opposite swarm with impressive bravery. In the end, only 3,000 remaining insect swarms withdrew from the battlefield and disappeared into the depths of the forest.

With such rudimentary combat preparations, without any defensive facilities, the orcs can still achieve such an impressive record. It has to be said that the orc is worthy of being the most physically fit warrior on the plane of Klein.

However, this honor fell on Vanel, but it was so heavy, which made his aging body look more stooped.

He is only forty years old this year, on a human body, he is completely in the prime of life, but on an orc with an average lifespan of only fifty-five years, he is no longer majestic, and is gradually aging. If it wasn't for this sudden outbreak of insect plague, he might be replaced by a new orc hero in next year's hero contest.

With heavy steps, I walked past the undulating piles of corpses, the soldiers sitting by the trees snoring and resting, the women carrying the orc corpses to the rear in two groups, and the crude and simple spikes. Wooden camp, Vanel slowly walked towards the pointed cowhide tent at the rear of the camp.

Along the way, he saw a lot of tribal animal skin battle flags fluttering high, but the number of tribal warriors who could stand under the flags had become much sparser. Even under the banner of the Clefthoof Tribe, which represents the tauren, the number of fighters has been so scarce that it is impossible to form an army.

Vanel watched and walked silently. In his heart, there are countless mysteries waiting for High Priest Sanger to give him the answer. Today, he desperately needs an answer!

The tent of the high priest Sanger was still so dark and gloomy, and Sanger himself looked more haggard and weak.

As soon as he entered the big tent, Vanel drove away the two little shamans guarding the tent, and then stood in front of the central firepit, asking in a deep voice.

"Are we worth it?"

High Priest Sanger sat alone in the shadow of the tent, even the light of the fire jumping in the fire pond could not illuminate the darkness covering his face.

"What do you want to ask is worth it?"

"Is it worth it for us to fight for the elves? Now the sacrifices are the best boys among the orcs, but what about the elves? They made way for the passage and put us at the forefront of fighting the Zerg, but what about them?"

"The elves are still discussing, they need to prepare!"

"They are discussing, they are preparing, but it is the orcs who have made sacrifices for this! High Priest, if this continues, will the orcs have a future?" When it came to the last sentence, Vanel's voice was close to roaring .

"Everything we do now is for the tribe!" High Priest Sanger argued hoarsely.

"For the sake of the tribe, for the sake of the tribe..." Vanel's emotions were obviously out of control: "You said that at the tribal clan meeting, and you still say that now. But I need to know a clear message now, we are fighting for Who fights?"

"Of course we are fighting for the Horde!" Sanger roared back angrily.

"You've always said that, but now I need a clearer guide. The whole clan surrendered their excellent fighters and gathered them under one big banner. Now you let me lead them to the swarm, to the swarm. To death... Can such a fighting tribe have a future?"

"But we must fight! The spirit of the ancestors has clearly told me that the orcs can only preserve their existence by fighting, otherwise the orcs will die!"

"Then let the spirit of the ancestors tell me!..." With a deafening roar, Vanel yelled out his own heart.

The High Priest Sanger's body in the shadows trembled. Although his face was unrecognizable, a fiery red glow ignited in his pupils.

"Alright, alright, since you must read it, I will let you read the prophecy of the ancestor spirit..."

High Priest Sanger took a step forward, exposing his face to the light of the fire for the first time. It's only been a few days since I saw him, his cheeks are already as thin as a skeleton, and his figure is even more emaciated. If it weren't for the burning eyes that still showed vitality, outsiders would probably just treat him as a mummy.

High Priest Sanger took a sharp tooth from the animal tooth necklace around his neck, cut his right index finger, and drew a strange eye-like pattern on Vanel's forehead with his skinny fingers like ghost claws. Only then did he hold the sides of his head with both hands.

"Since you want to see it, I'll let you see it..."

With the windless movement of the stone hammer battle flag behind him, the deep and majestic orc battle song slowly began to echo in the camp, and scenes of historical fragments that happened at a certain time in the future quickly flashed in Vanel's mind. Every scene is so thrilling, every scene is so heart-piercing, most of the scenes are the orc tribe being slaughtered by a mysterious alien race, there are mountains of corpses and seas of blood everywhere, and orcs roar and fall everywhere There are dilapidated camps and piles of corpses everywhere...

In almost all scenes, the orcs are dead, and the orc tribe has since disappeared.

But only in one scene, a tall and mighty orc stood in the bloody storm, with a huge ax in one hand and a tribal battle flag held high in the other, leading thousands of orcs to fight bloody in the endless sea of ​​insects... …

High Priest Sanger persisted until the end, and waited until Vanel saw all the future clearly, and then fell to the ground panting heavily, his cheeks blushing abnormally.

"The future of the orcs is fighting. Only fighting can survive!" Sanger hissed struggling.

"One fight with all one's strength will lead to nine deaths, and passive avoidance will lead to ten deaths. I understand... I understand..." Vanel closed his eyes in pain, and muttered to himself.

After a long time, he opened his eyes, looked at High Priest Sanger who was fading away on the ground, and gave his chest a heavy blow. He pulled up the battle flag symbolizing the Stone Hammer Tribe from the ground, turned around and strode out of the camp.

The moment the tent door was lifted, the afterglow of the setting sun painted a golden color on his whole body.

The orc war continues!