"It's a plague demon!" came a friend's warning from the roof of the small building on one side: "Aristotle Avenue!"

"I see!" Crawling out of the trenches of rubbish, rubble, floating dirt, and furniture, Marceau glanced at the fiery New Edenkees fighting on the opposite side and on his side, Ingmar Ron's banner fluttering across from the beginning.

Turning around, Marceau clapped his hands at the commander of this section: "Watch the guys on the other side, if they dare to rush over, move the gun back to its original position." ”

"No problem, Boss. The kitten nodded vigorously.

Marceau jumped into the tracked cart parked beside him, and the four tracks took the kittens of the Reaction Team and the Prairie Elves to the east of the road.

About half an hour ago, several New Eden gnomes crossed the line of fire with a small group of prisoners of war, bringing a message from the Ingmar Rohn Warband, and these New Edenians spoke bluntly about their plight, saying that they had no intention of fighting Marceau, but that they needed Marceau's cooperation out of mutual understanding.

So the players in this section of the trench ushered in the best day, both sides had the courage to raise the muzzle of the gun, so while the gunfire was loud, basically no one would be hurt.

But Aristotle Avenue is different, where the natives of New Eden are the main force, and almost no one in the player troops assigned there dares to disobey the sun, so the fight is very fierce.

The closer to the line of Aristotle Boulevard, the louder the gunshots and shouts of killing, Marceau's tracked convoy stopped in front of the corner of the street, the kitten ran to the corner with the team, and the kitten poked out a small half of his face: "Ambrook!"

"Fuck it, Commander, you're going to be breached!"

Well, Marceau had already heard the wail of the commander of this section of the line, rolled his eyes, Marceau transformed himself into an earth element, put on exoskeleton-like armor, hung the flamethrower backpack handed by the steppe elves to the hook on the back of the armor, and then locked the jet barrel to the right hand armguard, and rushed out of the corner with the kittens and the steppe elves in the lead.

A large group of plague demons had already broken through the defense line on the side of Marceau's side at this time, and looking at these forgiving green demons all over their bodies, Marceau lit the flamethrower muzzle on fire, and then began to ...... Grill!

The Divine Flame Fuel is lethal to any undead, and these flames simply engulf the undead.

A kitten pushes a heavy shield with pulleys to block bullets from the flanks for Marceau, and a few bullets hit the armor through the gaps, but to no avail, this heavy armor that is transparent with adamantite gold is like a moat for ordinary enchanted ammunition.

In the face of the new Edenyan's firepower, Marceau raised the explosive rifle in his left hand - this is a heavy musket just made by the steppe elf workshop, using a large magazine of twenty rounds, semi-automatic, using a 20MM special grenade warhead is a firing pin type working principle with a safety, in the case of flying less than ten meters, it is a solid scale, and after flying out of ten meters, its safety will be unraveled, and then until it hits something, this kind of ' The bullet's warhead would explode, and at least thirty grams of a blessed charge and at least forty-eight pre-made silver-seeping fragments would destroy all the ghosts and snakes in their path.

Generally speaking, the kill radius is about five meters, but there are also seven to eight meters of kill records on the test site.

In terms of range, it is a flat trajectory within 40 yards, an arc trajectory within 80 yards, and a maximum range of 120 yards, but generally speaking, the dispersion after 100 yards will reach 60 centimeters, but considering its killing radius, this accuracy defect is nothing.

This weapon was originally used by the steppe elves on the bracket behind the tracked vehicle, but the target of the tracked vehicle is too obvious under this combat condition, and there may be a new Eden air power to come and forcibly dismantle it.

So the new Eden on the opposite side poured blood mold, and just followed the plague demons to rush through the defense line, only to face such a killing god, the right hand of the sacred flamethrower all beings are equal, the left hand of the blaster swept through everything, the only problem is that there is a shot that seems to be high, fell into the melee area, swept through the area and at the same time came the wail of 'ceasefire! is a friendly army'.

Of course, no one will come to find the murderer, after all, this wave of grenades killed at least more than two hundred enemies, and the wailing on the ground is twice as many as its dead, while solving the dilemma of the players in the Eastern Continent being surrounded, the reinforcements that have followed have also been mixed with the new Edenkees, and the two sides are venting their energy on both sides of the street, and Marceau stopped after spraying fire several times, and the steppe elf maintenance team that has been following behind him immediately replaced the empty oil tank, and then filled it full.

The cat cub got up, braved the rain of bullets, and sprayed a fan at the blight demon that was rushing in his face, so the strong smell of burnt barbecue came with the wind.

"I don't want to eat barbecue again!" came the kitten's desperate screams behind him.

Marceau pouted, I can't stand the smell? If I let you go to the big morgue in Rolandvaldo, I don't know if you can stand it.

Roland Valdo was not the most terrible, before that, the Battle of Ashupi's Infernal and the Blood Bridge of Satomar were all battles for which the blood of the large warbands was shed, hundreds of thousands of indigenous warriors were killed, and more players were spilled on the battle line, and some people said that compared to them, other battles were as small as the pains on the eve of the industrial revolution.

Walking through the burning streets, spraying flames at the New Eden infantry that followed, the cat cub who put down his helmet and armor noticed that there were New Eden goblins entering, and these small dots full of explosives rushed to the defense line like mad dogs, and there was no time to sound the alarm, Marceau directly used the blaster gun in his hand to shoot the remaining six grenades at the dozen or so goblins, but there were still two goblins who broke through the barrage.

A goblin wanted to jump over the trench, but a steppe elf's small hand reached out from the trench, grabbed the goblin's leg, dragged it into the trench, and the next second, a rain of blood mist spread all over the sky.

Another goblin jumped over the trench, but the next second, a gnome jumped out of the foxhole, slammed the grenade on his helmet to unlock the safety, and then put it on his chest The gnome threw the goblin to the ground, the goblin screamed, but was soon bitten by the gnome on the neck.

This time, a violent explosion knocked people nearby directly to the ground.

Marceau was silent for a moment, watching the gnomes smiling wildly as they burst into the crowd of New Eden with a large number of fish-frying tools, as the warrior used his body to block the bayonets that stabbed his companions, as the steppe elves slammed their enemies with their depleted muskets, and even more so as to see the defenders engulfed by the fireblasts cast by the New Eden's battlemages.

Flames erupted from the kitten's arms, sweeping waves of New Eden's attacks, dropping the empty blaster and raising his long knife in his free left hand to shead the New Edenians who rushed in front of him, and then picking up his right hand and slamming the short sword that had stabbed him into the mud along with the halfling.

Then he raised his hand again, and the continuous flames rekindled the New Eden in front of him, knocking away the ignited person who pounced on him, dragging the large shield that had lost the pusher and stopped to his side, and Marceau knelt down again: "Change the can!"

The steppe elves ran over with their carts, some pushers were knocked down by stray bullets and were silent in pools of blood, some covered men knelt beside them and exchanged fire with the enemies who had climbed over the ruins, and some kittens took the bulleted canister into their arms before striding towards the enemy.

The empty jar was untied and placed in front of the cover by Marceau.

The kitten turned an angle to make it easier for the prairie elves to load the new cans.

The helmet was patted, Marceau stood up, looked at the continuous flames that burst in front of her, waved her right hand, and the flames engulfed the New Edenians who had just flipped over the ruins.

The big man howled and rushed through the wall of fire, and the raised greatsword went straight at Marceau, and the cat cub raised the long knife flat, watching the giant sword and the long knife meet each other, until the sword body was cut by the blade, and let the broken sword body smash on the helmet, Marceau pushed the long knife into the big man's chest, and pushed hard until he was overthrown to the ground.

Lift your foot and stomp the giant man's head open.

"For Ambrouk!" a neat cry came from behind her, and Marceau turned her head to see reinforcements appear in the street behind her.

Maybe there is a difference in the size of the battle, maybe there is a difference in the number of victims, but we are all warriors, and no one will be greater than the other.

Step ahead and face the enemy who is once again in your sight.

Multiculturalism sounds wonderful, but if Marceau had to choose between an innocent monistic culture cub and a diverse New Eden mox, Marceau would have to let the latter settle down.