The dwarf spat on the axe, grabbed the corner of his sleeve and wiped it to a crisp slur, he gripped the battle axe tightly, and looked up with a grunt. Above the dwarf's head, in the roaring north wind, a flag was unfurled, like a piercing flame, on which was painted the silhouette of a gray rhinoceros.

The longing figure of the shadow is walking out of the edge of the forest, like a ghost in an ancient legend, hovering at the end of the woodland.

"Come on, let me see what you're capable of." Sirisha muttered, his stubby hands flipped the axe over, and a pair of tiny eyes embedded next to his big nose were looking intently in that direction, "See if you're bragging, or if you can really defeat these people." ”

The dwarf shook his beard, clenched his axe in both hands, shrugged his shoulders, opened his mouth slightly—revealing a mouthful of white teeth—and suddenly let out a cry: "Vah Adaaaam——! ”

A deep voice echoed.

Femoen-Greyflame pushed away his lieutenant and came to the side of the horse, his scorched eyes silently looking at the boundary line of the glade—gray figures, banner after banner, waving beneath the canopy. He could distinguish at least two types, one with a gray undertone with a pattern of flowing wind—and three different shades of robes.

The wind brought with it that low roar that lingered in his ears.

It is as if a thousand voices should be harmonized together, and it is terrifying, as if in an instant one can see the scenery from the south of Eldron, with low valleys and forests, gurgling streams, lofty mountains, and snow. And above the wilderness, the graymane dwarves are smearing the blood of frost lizards on their cheeks, holding aloft their dark warhammers as they attack their foes like a mountain of seas.

'He' vaguely remembered that scene, as if dreaming back to that era, the chill in the snow and wind made him shiver involuntarily. He saw rows of adventurers coming out of the forest, and he never thought that these people would be so disciplined, silent, as if they were a real army.

No one knew how they coordinated, and there seemed to be a silent eye in the darkness watching the procession that spanned nearly two or three miles—from beginning to end, the error between the front and back would not exceed five meters. Even the gray knights under his command couldn't line up such a neat phalanx.

Femoen-Greyflame placed her hand on the repulsor, and involuntarily used her force, the sharp metal gloves creaking and the ice edges of the wood falling layer by layer.

There's movement.

I don't know where the news came from, and it spread in the community.

People's eyes searched the map, and they couldn't help but sweat for Fang Yu and the others, why attack the left flank, on the right side of Bard Black Feather, isn't that mercenary camp more like a weak link?

The Grand Knight on the left flank was none other than Femoen Greyblaze, the supreme governor of Greyowl Town, who was not only more familiar with the terrain around here, but was also obviously much more difficult to deal with than the little-known knight on the right flank, wasn't he?

Bad Black Feather stands in the middle of the camp.

He pressed the hilt of his sword with one hand, his pitch-black gauntlet rubbing slowly against the dragon-shaped counterweight, and listened to the report from the side, but he didn't make a decision.

He looked up silently, gazing at the crown of cedars, the spiky branches, and the howling wind and snow in the night sky. The wind swept the flames of the campfire, sending the embers whirling up to the top of the trees, shimmering with the light of sparks like the light of his eyes.

It was great news that the other side had attacked Femoen's camp, where the main force was the Grey Knights of the Templars, who could hold out for a long time even if they were unable to fight back.

The officials of the alliance standing on the side were secretly happy in their hearts - maybe it was because the other party did not do a serious intelligence analysis, or maybe the other party did not know the layout here at all, but they made a mistake and made the worst choice. But he opened his mouth, and suddenly retracted his words, thinking of this layer himself, but would the other party also think of it?

Could this be a conspiracy, judging from the other party's previous performance, it is entirely possible. But if they don't move, what if the other party also anticipates this?

The endless darkness of the night magnified the panic in everyone's mind, and their knowledge of the battlefield was limited to the light of the campfire in front of them—the darkness engulfed everything in the distance, and the forest lurked with enemies everywhere.

The flames crackled and burned, and the silent silence seemed like a spreading anxiety, and the officials of the alliance stared at the beating firelight, and a thought that bordered on absurdity could not help but rise in their hearts:

He took these two layers into account, but what layer is the other party on?

"We need to act, Lord Warden," the knights' staff finally spoke, "and a decision is needed on whether they attack Lord Femoen's camp or wait for us to fall into a trap." ”

Bard Black Feather tapped the hilt of the sword lightly with his fingertips, and finally made a judgment:

"Send out scouts."

"Wait."

The caretaker's face remained calm.

But when the officials of the alliance on the side heard this, they couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, in fact, he also thought that Femoen and his gray knights could resist for a while, and they would not lose so quickly. The opponent may have clever reconnaissance methods and the ability to cut off the battlefield, but these methods are not useful in an offensive and defensive battle.

He wiped his sweat.

It's just that a few kilometers away in the mountains and forests, some facts are unaware of the unnoticed.

Flashes of silver light were shuttling between the cliffs, carrying the rangers and landing on the ridgeline on the other side. The men over there quickly erected two drawbridges, and soon more figures appeared in the woodland, and Scorching Qihua and Rock Core stopped, looking at the fairy lady with some curiosity.

The Angel flew back and stood next to the crystal to begin the meeting, and she raised her hand, ready to film the scene. But a hand came from the side and stopped her, and the tall ranger said to them, "Mr. Eddard has commanded, please don't photograph this side—"

Scorching Qihua looked at them and nodded.

A team of about two hundred men was silently crossing the two long bridges and heading around the rear of the battlefield.

……

Femoen-Greyflame silently stared at the somewhat eerie, silent battlefield.

The north wind from the Longxiao Mountains was howling in the forest, and the only sound that could be heard was about this area. In Femoun's eyes, the other party had not moved half a step since he walked out of the forest, and the gray-white shadow, like a stone statue, stood in the snow, silently watching in this direction, and behind him there were only unfurled flags, hunting and shaking in the wind.

A shadow suddenly appeared in his eyes, and he couldn't understand the other party's behavior. But suddenly he realized something, he turned around, and silently estimated the time in his mind, minute by second, and suddenly a light flashed in the direction of the altar, and he saw the scout sent out of it in a daze.

"My lord, we were stopped by them."

Femoen felt a palpitation, but this was already expected. He closed his eyes, as if in thought, but opened them again for a moment, flashing with a flash of determination.

He looked in that direction, thinking in his heart that he should have seen through the other party's purpose: the other party's main force was not here, this was just a bluff, then their real purpose was ......

Suddenly, he turned around, came to the side of the map, picked up his charcoal and drew a thick, black line between the three lines of defense. He raised his pen, paused slightly, and finally drew a heavy horizontal in the center of the line, and then raised his head and looked at the crowd:

"Their purpose is reinforcements."

The light in Femoen-Grey Flame's eyes changed, and he tugged at his collar slightly, "The other party's ideal state is to lead us into the field, then their best choice is to set up an ambush in a suitable position to ambush the reinforcements who are coming." ”

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that this reasoning was logical, otherwise why didn't the other side take the right flank and choose the direction of attack? And this is not because the real purpose of the other side is precisely the reinforcements of the weakest right wing.

Now that he understood this, he realized that he might have seized that opportunity—

Femoen-Grey Flame slowly drew his saber and calmly pointed in the direction of the forest, "Everyone, get ready to fight!" ”

"They bluff, and we face the enemy head-on."

It was just that his order had just been given, and in the distant sky above the forest, a few silver lines suddenly flashed, and they flew up from the canopy of the trees and flew out in all directions.

The dwarves likewise looked at the silver glow that flew under the treetops—

He turned his head, took a hard breath, blew his beard around, and then swiped his short fingers on the light screen, and whispered, "Here they are, guys, give them some color." ”

Many names lit up from the list, and cacophony of voices, passwords, and muffled banters came from the communication channels. The people silently watched as the Grey Knights on the opposite side pushed away the horses and lined up in the distance.

There were no cavalry on either side, and light and heavy cavalry could not be used in such a forest, but compared to the adventurers, there were far fewer rangers on the Templar side. But they have a group of mercenary crossbowmen, as well as a full-fledged army of mages.

The muffled chant of the knights echoed through the wilderness, and they drew their swords and shields, while those behind them raised their halberds, and the black and white arrays slowly advanced like water patterns. However, the first to kick off the battle were the projection units of both sides, and the mercenary crossbowmen set up their crossbows in the midst of long commands, aiming in this direction:

"Two hundred and twenty steps!"

"Shoot!"

There was a low whistling.

Black crossbows flew across the battlefield and rained down, but adventurers were generally experienced in dealing with ranged attacks, either with shields or spells, and a multicolored light flashed, and the first round of attacks had little effect.

"Second round!" The sound of the command could be heard from afar, but at this distance, the rangers began their counterattack. The elves in gray cloaks were moving sideways across the battlefield, from the forest at the back of the line to the side of the battlefield, and when they came to the place, they turned and raised their longbows—

Griegel is an Evan Quinn elf.

In fact, due to the elves' affinity for bows, most of the people who chose this race invariably chose to become rangers. Or, to put it another way, most of the Rangers among the Electors, with the exception of a very few, were basically Elves of all kinds—the Elves of Cowlin-Ihurian, the Wild Elves of Rotas, and the Forest Elves of the Giant Tree Hills.

As for the Othello Empire, there are no elven races, but they do have more suitable winged people or half-sea tribes.

Griegel is just such an elven ranger.

But he wasn't a pure ranger yet, half of his profession was a poet, or what is often called a string whisperer—bows and strings, all in my hands. His gray-blue eyes reflected the battlefield situation, the trajectory of the crossbow bolt was clearly visible in his eyes, and his pointed ears twitched slightly, as if hearing the source of the sound.

He pointed in that direction and spoke in a unique elven language: "One hundred and thirty angestros, may the wind be with you and me." ”

The angskrit is a common unit of distance for elven rangers, roughly equivalent to three hundred paces, and in fact in Kaurin-Ishurian, it is the common language of archers.

There was a sound of brushing, and the shooters raised their bows.

Griegel stroked the elf's long hair lightly, and with an elegant gesture he raised his bow and spoke softly:

"Three,"

"Two,"

"One."

"Putting ——!"

The texture of the magic light up layer by layer, floating on the elven longbow, and the magic furnace appeared with brilliant lights, and the magic power was accelerating into the arrows.

Adventurers are not as tacit and disciplined as mercenaries and knights, but they have at least one significant advantage, and that is that they are generally of a higher rank. Most of the adventurers who came to support were at least similar to the Grey Knights, or even higher, but in any case, they were by no means comparable to mercenaries.

The light on the arrows was something the hired crossbowmen had never seen before—more than half of them were actually exploding arrows. When the rangers loosened their bowstrings one by one, the feather arrows slashed a gorgeous parabola from the battlefield with brilliant light and flew towards the opposite side.

Although most of the arrows exploded in mid-air due to problems with the fuse setting. But when there were enough of them, someone would hit them crookedly, and Grigel silently watched as his arrow, with a near-perfect trajectory, fell into the crowd, and then flashed with an astonishing burst of fire.

The rolling flames scattered almost instantly, engulfing the figures there, and the people who were ignited by the flames were screaming and fleeing.

"One-seventh of a Tariake."

The shooters who hit perfectly are sharing the precise timing of the fuse setting in the communication channel.

The fastest flying arrows were the lighter explosive arrows, followed by the Frozen Arrows, and after the flames, another edge of ice exploded. Two rounds of blows almost caused the front row of mercenary crossbowmen to collapse directly - fortunately, the opposing mage's regiment finally unfolded the protective enchantment, and the bright wall of light blocked the subsequent explosion.

The flashes of light from the explosion echoed over the battlefield, almost illuminating the glade. After the ranger and the hired crossbowman exchanged fires, the casters of both sides joined the fight, but the adventurers who fought alone were often no match for the professional mage, and the opponents soon joined forces to tear apart the defenders on the adventurer's side, and the flames began to light up on this side of the line.

This forced the dominant rangers to turn their attention in this direction, and after they split up a group of men to snipe at the opposing mage, the two sides almost reached a dynamic balance in the projection of long-range firepower. But this balance obviously did not last, and Femoun-Grey Flame silently observed in the rear for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that he should have bet right, and the main force of the other party was not in this place.

The strength of the other party is far inferior to them.

Seeing through this, he made up his mind, and immediately arranged for the herald to blow the horn. In the long sound of the horn, the gray knights finally quickened their pace, and the knights in the front row even lost the big shield in their hands, and were running faster and faster, and the light of the magic guide furnace behind them became brighter and brighter, forming a streamer behind them.

Femoen stared at the streamer, raised his sword, and suddenly shouted, "Raven's Word, the Lord of the Storm is above!" ”

It was as if he had returned to a long time, as if he were looking at the same scene—on the bloody plains, countless people fought and fell, and rivers of blood flowed. And the voice that resounded loudly, like rolling thunder, came from the entire battlefield, echoing in his mind: "The word of the crow, the Lord of the Storm is above!" ”

Femoen shuddered, and his vision was filled with a straight line of black and white, crashing into their opponent's position with a thud.

The Grey Knights were fanatical and responded in unison:

"Raven's Word, Lord of the Storm is above!"

Sirisa, the dwarf, couldn't help but cry out loudly, he admitted that he was a little contemptuous of his opponent, and the other party was obviously not some kind of knight lord who had forgotten how to fight. The Ravental Sanctuary may rule the North, but don't forget that they've been fighting Nicol Bolas as well.

Whether it is true or false, but this actual combat experience and combat effectiveness are all first-class.

And the other party's fanaticism was also greatly unexpected by the adventurers.

Almost instantly, they were shocked by each other and made their formation a little unstable. But fortunately, most adventurers still have a hard breath in their hearts, and they came to this place with no intention of returning alive. After the initial shock, many people responded almost immediately at all costs.

Patches of white light flashed on the front line.

The mercenaries who were reloading in the back watched this scene with some dumbfounded, they had never seen a battle so fierce, as if both sides were at the moment of the outbreak of the battle, putting life and death aside, using all means and all courage to fight each other.

Many people even slowed down their hand movements, a little frightened.

Sirisha slashed at the enemy in front of him with an axe, and couldn't help but look around a little breathlessly, although he was the leader of the White Rhino Adventure Group, his rank was not necessarily higher than these gray knights. Especially his previous enemy, who also has a crow feather on his shoulder, is obviously a knight captain of some rank.

Enemies poured up from all sides, knights in gray-black armor, black and white robes on their bodies, swords in hand, and a cold glint in their eyes. As for his team, most of it was lost in an instant. The dwarf swallowed, not sorry for the loss, for he had no intention of leaving alive.

It's just that the other party wants them to hold Femoen here for at least an hour, but at the moment, it seems that it is difficult to do even a quarter of the time.

Sirisha had some bitter words for a while, boasting that he couldn't do such a thing in Haikou, which made him blush. He hesitated, but picked up a crystal and broke it with all his might.

Throughout the team's communication channel, everyone heard a long beep—

……

Information from all quarters indicates that the Redempted have launched an onslaught on the left flank of the Ravental Temple.

But people don't get more information.

But the live broadcast that had been open in all directions before seemed to be silent at the moment, leaving only a few dark and dreary pictures, which were quietly suspended in mid-air at the moment, staring at the direction of the Longxiao Mountain Range.

At the end of the field of vision, however, the occasional flash of light could be seen in the direction of the left flank of the Ravental Temple, and it was clear that the attack had begun, but no one knew exactly what the battle was going on.

From the bustle of the community to the silence of the moment, people are discussing the possible situation without a word. It is an obvious fact that from the camp of Bad Black Feather, the time for support to reach the left flank will not take more than half an hour.

But half an hour was really enough time for the ransomed to take Femoon's camp?

Many believed that Fang Ou had misjudged and that they should have stormed the right flank of the Ravental Sanctuary - where the mercenaries were camped, and the defenses were obviously much weaker, and they were further away from the central camp. But the people discussed it fiercely, and for a moment they seemed to forget, and they did not know what the situation was on the left and right wings at first.

On the contrary, those supporters of the alliance did not know where to find the first-hand information, and after Fang Yu and his party made a mistake in choosing the target to attack, they began to publicize it, analyzing the advantages and disadvantages of several camps to the top. Some people don't know the inside story and can't help but feel a little worried.

However, discerning people can clearly see that most of these so-called 'supporters' are probably the navy army invited by the alliance, and it is conceivable where their first-hand information comes from. However, the people who can see the truth behind it are a minority after all, and most of them are still brought to the rhythm.

"They should be more cautious."

"yes, what a great opportunity."

"It's a problem, after all, there aren't many people among the Electors who are good at commanding battles."

"I just hope that Bard Black Feather will react a little slower."

"Dream, the other party is quite an experienced commander."

But before people could finish speaking, suddenly an extremely piercing beep penetrated into their eardrums, causing them to hurriedly tear off their headphones or cover their ears with an 'ouch'. "Damn, what's going on?" Even after a while, people still feel a buzzing in their ears, almost like ringing in their ears.

However, they soon realized that the sound was not something wrong with their personal terminals, but that it was coming from the live stream. People were about to question, but suddenly someone found a clue and couldn't help typing in the live broadcast room:

"Look what's that!?"

At this moment, it is left in the footage of the live broadcast, as if most of the pictures divided by the compound eye have long disappeared, and there are only a few fields of vision from different angles. Most of these clockwork elves were suspended in mid-air, quietly overlooking the forest—and it was at this moment, in the midst of these somewhat quiet images, that a flickering, golden point of light was emerging.

Small, but light, in swarms, like a bright or dark starlight, or a swarm of bees, they are slowly emerging below the field of vision, flying through the forest. "Is that a clockwork goblin?" Someone recognized the little thing's appearance—but it was the first time they had seen such a modest clockwork fairy in Fang Yuan's hands.

Or was it not controlled by the other party, but a counterattack from the craftsmen of the Ravental Sanctuary? Judging from the direction from which the clockwork fairy flew, it didn't seem like there was such a possibility, not to mention that the live broadcast was motionless, as if it didn't see these flickering golden spots.

And if it's a clockwork goblin, it's a little too many, right?

Although people have seen the big scene of one or two hundred clockwork goblins gathering together before, the latter is a little too exaggerated compared to the current scene. If someone could control so many clockwork goblins, they wouldn't believe it anyway.

At the edge of the forest, Griegel was looking up.

The rangers also lowered their bows one by one and looked in that direction.

In fact, far away on the other side of the battlefield, Femoen-Ash Flame was also raising his head at this moment, and it wasn't just him - most of the people on the battlefield actually heard the overwhelming hum.

The humming sound sounded like the sound of a clockwork elf, but when people looked up, they couldn't see anything from above the battlefield, and the dark night sky was empty. If it is said that it is a clockwork fairy, what clockwork fairy's voice will be so terrifying that there is no shadow in sight, and the voice has already been transmitted first?

However, Femoen-Grey Flame had a bad premonition in his heart.

He always felt as if he should have seen this scene somewhere, but there was something paradoxical.

Finally, someone beside him whispered, "Over there! ”

Femoen-Greyflame turned her head, her pupils constricting. In the dark night sky, slowly emerging from the cedar forest, there were overwhelming golden clouds, which were coming together and humming louder and louder, like thunder on the horizon.

Femoun's mouth opened wide as a bolt of lightning struck his mind, the scene of the dark underworld, the sky falling apart, the huge temple sinking into the abyss, countless black shadows spreading out, forming the appearance of dragon minions—but they could not advance an inch before the golden light, and hundreds of clockwork elves were flying in all directions, and then turned into a bright fire.

Suddenly, he remembered it all, and almost shuddered.

"It's ——! him"

"Obelisk!"

"Lord Femoen......" The deputy's voice seemed to come from the sky, and the other party was looking at him with some concern: "What is that, what should we do?" ”

Femouen looked back a little stiffly.

……

The wind and snow are getting heavier, and a snowstorm seems to be brewing.

And in this distant call sign, Fang Yu only listened silently to the sound of ticking, and he even had time to lower his head, open his other eye, and look at the time on the pocket watch. The hour hand points to the last segment of the dial, and the minute hand still has a quarter of an hour to go beyond the dividing point of the day.

Then he silently closed the lid and tucked it into his arms, then he looked up and looked at the scene in the goggles.

The 'swarm' is flying over the battlefield—

Hidden in one of the few 'scourges', the lens of the black hole gives him a view below. He looked down on the battlefield lit by flames, two distinct fronts, entangled with each other. It's just that people seem to have noticed something, and they all raised their heads and looked into the air. So the battlefield was almost silent for a moment at that moment.

Fang Yu raised his hand slightly, and on the silver Lone King's Pride, the magic logo was changing direction little by little.

Remove level flight.

Balance order cancelled.

Encapsulation of attack commands.

The Fire Djinn was changing direction from the level flight of a single route, breaking away from the margin state, and then the closed-loop mechanism inside them began to operate one by one. But when the last attack command was encapsulated in it, these golden points of light suddenly fell from mid-air.

They cut through a sharp arc and crashed into the Grey Knight's array.

Femon was looking up at the scene with his head tilted, as if he had suddenly reacted from the powerlessness of a drowning man. Turning around, he shouted hoarsely to his subordinates:

"Quick, open a defensive barrier for me!"

……