The orc Calus stood in the queue with a shield in one hand and a battle axe in the other.

It was his first battle since joining the Fireblade Clan, and he couldn't wait to show himself properly.

Some of the minotaurs, who were still faltering at the entrance to the open field, spat heavily into the ground.

"The natives of this world are all cowards who have no seeds, and they don't even have the courage to stand up and face challenges."

He thought mockingly to the bottom of his heart.

He had never considered these stupid and benzene minotaurs his allies, in fact, he looked down on anyone but the orcs.

Originally an orc veteran from the Taunting Skull Clan, Calus had fought in two orc wars, but now that the small clan had been wiped out, only a few remnants like him remained.

If Thrall hadn't rescued him, he would still be in a human prisoner of war camp.

However, in Calus's heart, although Thrall has a life-saving grace for him, this does not mean that he must support this young shaman, because Thrall's attitude towards humans is too gentle, and for a pure orc, this kid is a little too mother-in-law, and has completely forgotten their original purpose of coming to Azeroth - orcs came to this world to conquer this place and become the masters here, and those fragile natives are only worthy of being slaves of orcs.

But to his annoyance, Thrall had built the city in this barren land where rabbits don't poop in order to avoid humans, and he felt that this hairy boy was literally in the water.

He was fond of the days of revelry that had taken Stormwind, where they had won victory after victory, bathed in the blood and wails of their enemies, and feasted on the looting of the rich human realm—human food, dwarven spirits, and smooth-skinned women.

As soon as he thought of this, he felt that the blood in his whole body seemed to be boiling, as if the whole person was at least ten years younger.

"I want to go back to that life, as long as we have the strength, we can get the qiē we want."

He said in his heart that if it weren't for those stupid chieftains who only knew how to fight in the nest, the orcs would never have been defeated so quickly.

Maybe they've all taken over Azeroth by now.

He hated them.

This was the reason why he had joined the Fireblade Clan, as Chief Nirru had promised to give him some demonic blood after this battle, and he couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the magical liquid that would make him stronger and more powerful.

"Will it degrade people? Fool me, I just need strength! ”

He muttered to himself again.

As the years passed, his body became more and more aging, and he missed the pleasure of the power flowing in his body more and more.

As an orc veteran who had drunk demonic blood twice in Shadowmoon Valley and Ashenvale, he knew and enjoyed that feeling better than anyone else.

His skin was also darker green than anyone else's, the color of Manoloth's blood.

He shook the fluttering shield in his hand, to be honest, he was very dissatisfied with the oak plank, you know, the orcs are born to attack, they never know what defense is.

He glared back with disdain at the lead officer who had given him the plank, the young orc who had not grown all his hair was born after the orc war, and he had no idea that the axe was the most suitable weapon for the orcs.

Come to think of it.

He couldn't help but glance at the battle axe in his other hand, this axe was not just issued, but the one that had followed him all the way from his hometown, and when it was forged, it was mixed with a piece of magic iron the size of a grain of rice, but it was enough—even after decades of use, this axe was still as sharp as ever.

"Old man, you're going to drink blood this time!"

He comforted his weapon in his heart.

Because he knows that this axe has been ** for too long.

At that moment, however, he felt his shield tremble, as if it had been struck by something.

Then he heard a loud voice, and with some confusion he raised his shield in front of him—an otherwise easy action that was now as difficult as lifting an entire mountain—and looked closely.

He noticed a large transparent hole in the middle of the shield.

"What's going on? I remember it as a perfect shield, at least when I received it. ”

He thought with some confusion.

At that moment, he felt that something liquid was running down his pants.

"Damn, am I so old that I can't even control my own pee?"

Calus thought sadly.

He lowered his head and a fist-sized hole appeared in his abdomen to his astonishment, from which blood and internal organs were flowing.

Passing through this almost transparent hole, he even his own spine, "What the hell is going on?" ”

It was his last word left in this world.

Immediately afterward, he fell headlong to the ground, ending his tyrannical life.

…… Diego crawled at the side of the Kodomon, firing with a death gaze.

This superweapon built to slay dragons is a powerful one, and the thick oak shield in the orc's hand is no stronger than a piece of paper for the death gaze.

Diego even felt like the orcs lining up in a neat queue was as easy as lining up to be shot.

In order to spread their forces, the orcs set up their positions in the widest part of the river valley, which was so flat that there was no hiding place, and the only place to hide was the trench in front of the queue filled with sharp stakes, but the orcs would rather be killed by muskets than jump in and have trouble with their own chrysanthemums.

"Damn, they actually have artillery!"

Someone wailed in horror.

"Hell, where's our long-range firepower?"

Some people turned back to the place where the smasher was.

"Catapult, fire quickly, we need support!"

The orc queue collapsed almost instantly, and everyone was screaming and screaming.

These orc soldiers secretly drawn from Thrall's army were not formed into a certain team, and there was no tacit understanding and organization at all.

"They haven't come out of those narrow places yet, and the stone bullets will be blocked by the stone eaves above their heads!"

The sergeant operating the trebuchet explained.

"I don't care, even if you make some movement and divert their attention, if you don't do something, we're going to die!"

The stone guard (1) who led the team grabbed the sergeant by the collar, resting the blade on his neck, hysterically threatening.

"Well, as you wish!"

The sergeant reluctantly agreed.

As the flag in his hand waved, a stone projectile the size of a human head resting on the trebuchet's spoon rose into the air and flew towards the minotaur.

Some flying stone bullets, the minotaur couldn't help but hold his breath, whether the current rock could withstand it.

Even Diego couldn't help but stop firing, raising his head and waiting for the impending impact.

The valley was finally quiet.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, the orc officer commanded the soldiers to spread their shields on the stakes, jumped over the trench and rushed towards this side.

Above the sky, the harpy that had been hovering for a long time also swooped towards the ground like carrion vultures.

…… Note (1): The 6th rank of the Horde, which is roughly equivalent to the rank of Knight of the Alliance.

(To be continued.)

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