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In the place where the Alliance and the Nightmare army were at war, Fording wielded the Ember Bringer with a ferocious slash, slashing the two Nightmare Beasts that rushed forward frantically with a single sword, and then he calmly ordered in a loud voice:

"Attack!"

With the deafening sound of the artillery, thousands of shells fell straight into the nightmare army with the anger and hatred of the soldiers. This time, the firepower salvo intended to intercept instantly cut off the Nightmare army in the middle of the road in front of him, clearing a blank area covered with flesh and blood.

And these battle-hardened alliance soldiers also took advantage of this short vacuum, and quickly rushed to kill the past,

A circle of divine devotion of pure light erupted from Ferdin's tough but lanky body, instantly turning a large swath of land near him into a sacred place. The nightmare beasts that swarmed forward in patches were purified by the power of the Light and howled in pain, until they were burned to ashes by the flames and scattered with the wind.

The strength of the generalissimo level is beyond doubt.

Under the eruption of Fordin, this well-timed and powerful dedication purified dozens of Nightmare Beasts and put an end to their filthy and tragic fate.

But compared to the number of nightmare armies, the results of killing dozens of nightmares are just a drop in the ocean, and in front of the overwhelming sea of nightmares, there is not even a single wave, it is not enough, the solemn-faced Fuding secretly bitter in his heart.

He had been through hundreds of battles, large and small, but no hostile force had ever put him under such tremendous pressure.

The individual combat effectiveness of the nightmare creatures is not strong, or the combat effectiveness of the nightmare cannon fodder in front of them that is obviously sent to death is not strong. Even a farmer with enough courage can kill them with a hoe and a pitchfork and win the battle in a one-on-one battle, but now these nightmare cannon fodder with low combat effectiveness have brought huge casualties to the battle-hardened elites of the alliance.

The battle against the Storm had only been fought for one morning, and three thousand of the Alliance warriors had already been killed. For a morning, the alliance side was stunned by the besieged and slaughtered by these hateful-looking, bloody and foul-smelling nightmare cannon fodder formations, and even suffered heavy losses to the point of being unacceptable.

This is still only the casualties of the soldiers under Fordin, and the warriors of the other coalition races are only a lot more than the elite alliance paladin legion.

These fearless, painless nightmares have only one advantage:

The number, the staggering number, the overwhelming number all over the mountains, even if it is a demigod-level master, in the face of this innumerable army of nightmares, he can't rely on the power of one person to turn things around.

The strong have a great role on the battlefield, but this strength depends to some extent on the support of the soldiers behind them. Otherwise, even on the battlefield where the sword has no eyes, even if you are a demigod master, I am afraid that the final fate will only be to die on the battlefield. You must know that when the overwhelming enemies come in, no matter how strong the hero is, there will be a moment when the strength is exhausted.

Relying on the tireless nature of the nightmare creatures and the numerical superiority of the tide, the battle became more and more difficult for the Alliance side, and as the battle progressed, as the commander of the Alliance Army, Fortin, who was in charge of commanding the Alliance Army, had to face this problem squarely.

But he has no other way but to accept the offer, and he can't retreat now.

You know, on the left flank of the Alliance, the Asuna forces, the dwarves, and the pandaren warriors are also advancing towards Stormwind.

"Put!"

The long sword in Conn's hand slammed down, and a short, powerful syllable came out of his mouth!

"Whoosh......"

The warriors of the Celestial God Army suddenly let go of the bowstring in their hands, and in the next second, the scream of tens of thousands of sharp arrows cutting through the sky and piercing the space was matched with the humming sound of the bowstring trembling, piercing people's eardrums with a faint pain.

The arrows attached to the power of true qi formed a wave of arrows that meant death to the nightmare, and cut a graceful arc through the sky, landing accurately on the body of the nightmare beast on the front line. In front of the Alliance's defensive line, there were suddenly nightmares pierced by arrows that had been pierced into hedgehogs and fell in pieces. And those nightmares who were lucky enough to survive the rain of arrows roared and continued to charge forward, ignoring the arrows on their bodies.

On a small dirt slope beside Conn, the war druids of Asuna were casting a variety of area spells, huge fireballs and ice arrows slamming down on the heads of the still charging nightmares. Afterwards, the Nightmare Army in that area would produce a collapse depression, which could be immediately replaced.

Amid the long sound of the horn, the dwarves, who are better at melee combat, are at the forefront of the nightmare that rush forward in the rain of arrows. Strong, brave and stunning, the dwarven warriors are equally good at fighting, and now the nightmare corpses piled up in front of the dwarven warriors seem to be about to leap beyond their height.

The most outstanding and fierce battle now was undoubtedly Monsoon, who clenched the wind sword in his hand, and did not know how many heads of nightmare beasts he had chopped off.

At the same time, Valosen, who was far away in the heart of the Nightmare army, waved his black-red arm downwards and silently ordered.

"Servants of Queen Azhara, take out these alliances......"

And in the next second, there was an untold nightmare roaring towards the human defense line at the far end, even knowing that they had become consumables, the nightmares still faithfully carried out the order and persistently launched a charge.

These low-level nightmares simply have no ability to resist the orders of the high-ranking nightmare general, or they don't have the consciousness to disobey orders at all.

The tragic fate of these low-level nightmares could not touch the cold-faced Varosson at all.

Commiseration?

That weakness had long since dissipated with his conscience the day he successfully transformed into a nightmare creature. What's more, Valosen had never considered those brainless, lowly, filthy nightmares to be his kind, knowing that he was the captain of Queen Aishara's Praetorian Guard.

He's on top of it, and he's in control of those low-level nightmares who kill and take power!

Holding a longsword with nightmare power, Varosson didn't have the slightest emotion in his heart. He was just calculating the interval and maximum distance between the Alliance mortar fire and the Alliance druids casting spells, in preparation for the real attack.

On the battlefield ahead, the nightmare of death was piled up into small hills, and for a day, both sides fought without retreating, although it was only the first time that they went head-to-head, but the tragedy was indescribable.

In the final analysis, this is a war from which neither side has a way out, and since it has begun, both sides are undoubtedly unstoppable.