The long-range sniping with the mage consumed most of Diego's energy, and Masrae's party, who had lost long-range fire support, immediately felt the pressure increase. Even though they had exhausted their strength, the battle line inevitably began to slowly retreat.

"Come on, bastards raised by dog 'mothers'!" The blood spear spat out a mouthful of blood—the result of being hit in the chest with a large stick—and roared viciously. As an orc who has fought all his life, at a very young age, he has already ingrained his desire to fight. It wasn't until under Thrall's command, when he realized that not all wars were necessary, that the rage in his heart gradually came under control.

But today, he unleashed the bloodlust and fury in his heart completely, for what he had seen along the way, for what his old friend had suffered. He fought wildly like a wounded wolf. He could feel that the spirits of the Ancestors were always with him, and he was ready to join them.

He licked the blood that had spilled from his throat, the fishy sweet taste made him even more excited, and he swung the hammer hard, and the head of one of the Forsaken exploded into a mist of blood under the weight of the hammer. But before he could draw his hammer back, another enemy's scimitar slashed at him. He had no choice but to let go of his left hand, which was gripping the handle of the hammer, and used the iron bracer at his wrist to block the scimitar, and by the way, a heavy blow shattered the jaw of the owner of the scimitar and threw him on his back.

But there were too many enemies, and more of the Forsaken flocked to it. He sideways dodged a sinister spear that stabbed silently, holding it between his body and his left arm, and then spun violently to swing the hammer, the shaft of which let out an unbearable groan and snapped under the tremendous torsion. The attackers in front of him retreated in panic under the sweeping sweep, and the spear-wielding Forsaken desperately covered his head and face, only to be smashed to pieces along with his hands and head.

"Do something, we have to do something!" The orc shouted at the druid beside him, in fact. The latter faced two huge bodies of abomination, and the pressure was even greater than his.

The Great Bear Man stood up, struck a heavy blow, and staggered back a few steps from the abomination in front of him.

"Do what?" Take advantage of this gap. He turned his head and shouted.

"Kill that mage and unleash Diego's firepower!" The orc replied, wielding his hammer and once again mingling with the Forsaken as they rushed forward.

"How?" Masley roared furiously. All of their manpower is here, and everyone is busy to death. Just to his left, the dwarves and Guan Haifa were fighting with a group of forsaken people, and no one could spare their hands.

At that moment, he heard a deep voice not far behind him.

"Get out of the way, Masrae!"

The reflex was so normal that the Night Elf didn't even think about it, so he jumped to the side and gave way to the side.

Seeing the gap he had let out, the abomination that was attacking him was overjoyed and rushed forward in great strides. They weren't much bigger than walnuts, and their shriveled brains didn't even think about why.

"In the name of Mother Earth. Shock! The deep voice whispered.

As if an earthquake, from the exit of the corridor to the place where Masrae had just stood, and then to the depths of the corridor, the earth trembled violently, and all the undead who stood on it were all unstable on their feet, and they fell to the ground. And the others standing on either side of them were unharmed.

This is the power of the earth, which can grow plants and nurture living beings. But it can also unleash disasters and bring ruin.

Masrae was overjoyed, and he turned around to see the exit of the corridor. The minotaur Dezko was squatting with difficulty, one hand touching the ground, still in a spell-casting position. Seeing the Night Elves looking at him, the minotaur nodded tiredly, and then collapsed in the corner. It was the only thing he could do, and he couldn't do more with his injuries.

Masrae roared wildly. He was ready to take the opportunity to deliver a fatal blow to the Forsaken mage, but he soon realized that he didn't have to, because someone had already done it.

At the end of his line of sight, under a fallen body of abomination, a corner of his robe and a shriveled calf trembling were revealed. It seems that in the earth shaking just now, this mage was crushed by the abomination next to him when he fell to the ground, which is really unfortunate!

Abomination didn't seem to be aware of something pressing down beneath him, and he struggled to flip his stupid body in an attempt to sit up from the ground, but the action weighed on the mage's body.

The magic shield that shrouded the mage's body was already about to be consumed by the power of the Holy Light, and under the crush of the abomination buttocks, the thin layer of shield shattered like a soap bubble.

"Ahh The mage let out a scream, and then fell silent. Without the protection of magic, the mages' weak bodies are as fragile as eggshells.

Masrae, as well as Diego on the high platform behind him, were dumbfounded, to be honest, this is simply unbelievable, just like this, in a simple way, a mage who has studied the knowledge of arcane law for more than thirty years, and spent enough money to buy the highest level of combat power in the entire human village.

The chaotic battlefield suddenly fell silent. The mage seemed to be an officer, and the undead soldiers who had lost their command looked at each other helplessly, not knowing what to do, as if their intellect had also disappeared with the drying up of their brains. Masrae, on the other hand, took advantage of this opportunity to take a few steps back, taking advantage of this rare respite to regain his body. The two sides faced off nervously a few meters away.

However, this brief silence did not last long, and less than a minute later, as if receiving some order that only the dead could hear, the Forsaken roared and rushed forward again without fear of death, more ferocious and mad than before.

Once again, the battle began. But Yiqiē seems to be hopeless, and there is no way out at all. They could pull off small victories like the one for hours on end, but they couldn't exhaust all of the Undercity's forces. To make matters worse, sooner or later, the entire city's military forces will be organized - apothecaries with terrible bottles and jars, well-trained warriors and thieves, and possibly more powerful mages and warlocks will come out of the magical zone to join the strangulation.

However, the fugitives are still fighting bravely, and although the Grim Reaper is getting closer, as the Night Elves say, all they can do now is to bring more enemies to their own burials, the more the better. But for everyone, they were proud enough, because it was within this narrow corridor that the Forsaken, who outnumbered them dozens of times, fell under their weapons.

In the midst of this continuous hard battle, Diego, who provided fire support, was fine, but the Masrae at the front gradually couldn't bear it, and the fierce battles almost squeezed out their last strength, and their offensive and defensive movements became sluggish, and the wounds on their bodies also increased. Above them, the Grim Reaper had raised his scythe, waiting for the feast of the harvest.

At this moment of despair but satisfaction, an ethereal voice suddenly sounded in Diego's head.

"Human, come to me!"

It was a woman's voice, pleasant, beautiful, elegant, calm, but with a coldness. (To be continued.) )