"Victory will never belong to people like you. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 info" The human general was expressionless, and waved his hand forward after speaking, and the herald shouted, and countless arrows and javelins flew towards the orcs who rushed over, and the black pressure was overwhelming.

The rain of long-range attacks poured down, and the tightly grouped orcs fell to the ground in pieces, many nailed with arrows all over their bodies, still roaring forward like trapped beasts. Those who were too badly injured to stand up, all of them were red-eyed, and they desperately crawled forward on the ground.

Thundered!

Garrosh was as steel as he smashed his tomahawk into the marching formation.

It was as if a boulder had been thrown into the water, and the nearby human soldiers turned into floating dust on the waves, centering on the landing site and pouring outward. Garrosh stood in the midst of the enemy army, his eyes were dripping blood, and he trembled and roared with a battle axe: "Human dog, who dares to fight me?!"

With no one to fight, he was still greeted by a dense rain of javelins, and Garrosh desperately swung his tomahawk to block, smashing the subway debris and flying wildly. But the attacks were so dense that with his skills, it was impossible to block them all, and after a while, he was grazed all over by the sharp blade.

Burst!

A javelin was thrown with a terrible sound of the wind, and like lightning, it was nailed through Garrosh's left back and through his chest. Under the huge impact, Garrosh finally stopped his frantic chopping and plunged forward, propping himself up on the ground with one hand.

His shoulder blades were pierced and his lungs were broken, and Garrosh looked down at the earth, panting for breath like a bellows, and the hot blood at the corners of his mouth converged into a line that led to the ground.

In the haze, the sound of killing behind him shook the sky, it was the remaining clan brothers who died rushed up, just now they still had more than two thousand, and now there are only a few hundred left. These orc warriors surrounded the badly wounded Garrosh and confronted the human army that outnumbered them.

These human soldiers were obviously elite, and they were not in a hurry to attack, but instead pulled away a little and temporarily disengaged from contact. As the orcs watched vigilantly, a wall of shields was erected, and spears protruded from the gaps, the sharp tips of which were like hedgehogs.

"Whew!"

The human infantry, which had formed a tight formation, shouted loudly, and the circular shield wall began to slowly retract inward, moving in unison and invulnerable.

On the dirt slope in the distance, Isara's team had solemn faces.

"They don't have a chance." Isara said lightly.

The distance is so short, and the orcs are gathered so closely, they can't rush up even if they want to fight hard. Although these orcs are not afraid of death and are strong, their military literacy is too poor, and they have entered a desperate situation step by step.

"Let's go and escort the women and children for a while." Ignoring the battle situation, Isara spurred down the dirt slope with her horse, and the team looked at each other and followed.

Due to the lack of wolves in the War Song Clan, they are now riding in two or even three people, and their speed has slowed down greatly, and they are no longer as good as ordinary war horses. In addition, they ran around the side of the human army in a large arc, and if the enemy split a cavalry to pursue them, it would definitely cause a large number of casualties.

Ishara led her subordinates to rush through the stabbing diagonally, right in the "ribs", blocking the possible impact route. Dorian shouted all the way: "Don't panic, we are here to protect you, pay attention to the formation, run to the sound of the drums, and don't collide with each other." ”

Shouting, a crisp drum sounded, it was Rhona, a small tambourine tied to her saddle, and the drum beat clearly. When the wolves heard the sound of the drum, they involuntarily began to run to the beat of the drum, and their originally messy steps gradually became the same, and the overall movement speed immediately became faster.

On the battlefield, the shield wall is gradually retracted inward, like a rope tightening around the neck. The orcs were leaderless, and after a period of helplessness, the tip of the spear was almost against the chest, and it was impossible to fight back at this time.

The fierce orc warrior has become a lamb to the slaughter.

"Kill!"

The herald shouted, and the merciless slaughter began, no one surrendered, and it was useless to surrender. In desperation, the orc warriors began to kill, ramming their flesh and blood into the tip of the spear and slashing out a frantic axe before dying.

In an instant, the sound of "poof" sounded, blood splattered, and the shield wall was dyed red.

There are few armies that regard death as home, but this is useless, the neat military formation is like a steel machine, mercilessly crushing a sturdy body, and the desperate counterattack of the orcs can't even open the gap.

The orcs died layer by layer, and the shield wall tightened more and more, until in the end, it directly pressed against the remnants of the orcs, huddled them together, unable to move.

The tip of the spear poked through the crack in the shield wall, the knife slashed overhead, and the archers in the distance simply stood on horseback, shooting indiscriminately at the crowd. The orcs were so desperately guarded by enemies countless times their size that they could not even lift their hands, so they could only howl and accept the killing.

The frenzied assault lasted only a few minutes, and the herald gave the order, and the shield wall slammed and retreated. Just listening to the sound of "hulala", the last few hundred orcs were paralyzed, and there was not a single living person.

No, there is one more person alive.

Garrosh was wrapped in the innermost by his subordinates, and was lucky to survive, still maintaining a one-handed position on the ground. Looking at the corpses lying around him, his eyes seemed to erupt with fire.

He tried to struggle to get up, but the injury was too severe, and the javelin that ran through his body pulled at the muscles and nerves, so that he couldn't even lift his hands.

One of the knights struck his horse and rushed straight over, raised his saber in his hand, and slashed Garrosh on the neck with the help of his horsepower. The general's hands were very steady and strong, and the blade of the sword was "buzzing" with his anger.

Garrosh couldn't move his left hand, and the excessive blood loss made his eyes glow, and in the fog, he saw a knife slashing in the wind, and subconsciously raised his blood roar with one hand. Hearing a "dang" sound, the blood roar circled and flew out, and Garrosh was slapped on the back and fell to the ground.

"Hahahaha!" The general laughed loudly and swept past, and after running a hundred meters, he turned his horse's head again, and rushed over with his saber in hand.

Garrosh lay on his side on the ground, his face resting on the yellow earth, choked twice, and a large amount of blood gushed from his mouth and nose. His eyes were wide open, but they had lost their brightness, and the reflection of the knight in his pupils, which had begun to dilate, was getting closer and closer......

There was another "dang" sound, right in front of Garrosh's eyes, sparks were shining, but Garrosh didn't even react subconsciously, and didn't move.

The leading general swung away the knight's saber, provoked Garrosh with the tip of his spear, frowned and looked at it, and said in a deep voice: "This person has a special identity, it may be useful to keep it, don't play to death." ”

"Yes, General!" The knight smiled and hooked his saber to the saddle, glanced at his men, and immediately ran up to a chaplain and began to heal Garrosh with the Holy Light.

"Lucky for him, the javelin only punctured the lung and didn't hurt the heart, he is so strong, he should be able to save life." The pastor looked up after a moment's examination.

The general nodded, then frowned and looked back, where smoke and dust were billowing and the remnants of the Warsong Clan had run away. To his surprise, a team of adventurers made up of the Azeroth race followed all the way, clinging to the side of the army, and judging by their demeanor, they were actually escorting them.

Looking at it, the general seemed to think of something, his expression suddenly tightened, he withdrew his gaze, lowered his head and thought.

"Chasing?" The knight asked quietly.

The general was interrupted by this sound, and shook his head unhappily, "It's just some women and children, without the protection of the samurai, they can't run far, they can be killed at any time, this trip is a good harvest, we should go back to the camp to report on work." (To be continued.) )