The pace of war seems to be moving faster than anyone thought.

Boom, boom, boom

The sound of footsteps like the beating of thousands of drums came from the distant mountains, and on the rolling mountains in the distance, a narrow black tide suddenly overflowed, dyeing the lush greenery into inky black.

"Huh, what's that?"

The scouts on Minas Tirith tried their best to look closely, but when they looked closely, they saw that the Black Tide was actually a vast and endless army of strong orcs.

Swords, guns, swords, and halberds rose to the sky, and the thick armor still glowed with the dim glow of pig iron, and the sturdy and ugly strong orc soldiers marched silently, arching the wolf cavalry in the center of the guard formation.

Tall brown wolves have tough fur that is not afraid of bows and arrows, and their movements are as agile as those of African hyenas, and what is even more terrifying is that they will perfectly obey the orders of their leader and prohibit the most elite human soldiers.

General Darkbone sat on the tallest wolf, quietly stroking the sharp steel knife at his waist that he had taken from a Gondor general—after a relatively fair fight.

Again, it's time to start killing.

A heartfelt smile erupted from the ugly and twisted face of the Black Bone Land, this strong orc had no reverence for the Death Frontier.

It's just that the knife is going to be dull again.

On the flank of the wolf cavalry is the hideous monster of Abomination, the reincarnation of the Titan. Eight thick iron nails were nailed to their backs, their fangs protruding from their bloody mouths, and from time to time they took out one or two white radishes from the basket behind them and threw them into their mouths, chewing them indiscriminately.

Wait a minute..... The one still wearing the shoulder armor doesn't seem to be a turnip.

The scouts at the head of the city felt like falling into an ice cave, and for a moment they were dumbfounded like a plague chicken that had been choked by the neck, and they were speechless.

The recipes of the orcs, but they are wide.....

Sitting in the center of the military formation, on the four-headed wolf-led rack, Saruman looked indifferently at the white and snow-white city of Gondor in the distance, the human kingdom that had been inherited for thousands of years would come to an end today.

What a magnificent epic opening, countless warriors stand in front of the innocent, using their flesh and blood to block the attack of evil and furious waves.

Unfortunately, your armor is weak, your will is weak, and your struggles are useless.

There is only one master of this world, and that is the Demon Lord Sauron, perhaps Saruman who is below one man and above ten thousand.

The white-robed wizard smiled and clapped his palms.

Suddenly, the lickers on both flanks of the military array looked up and sniffed, the narrow noses that had degenerated into snakes opened and closed, and the tips of their thick pink tongues dipped in the air for information.

As if they had received some command, the lickers buried their heads, their sharp claws dragging deep ravines across the grass, and their powerful muscles suddenly compressed, and they shot out in unison.

Go, my soldiers, climb the walls and slay those pathetic human defenders.

Saruman withdrew his gaze, and Furui gently rubbed the white scepter in his hand without waves.

In the blink of an eye, thousands of skinned frog-like lickers were descending the hill and heading towards the towering walls of Minas Tirith.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

The shrill cries of the scouts came from the city, and the long trumpets in the towers resounded through the city,

The inhabitants were at a loss for what to do, and could only watch as the soldiers in silver armor climbed the walls from the outer city with their faces tense.

The army of Saruman had already played the drums of war, and the wild and evil inky black war drums were tied to the wolf, and they were fiercely slammed by the strong orc soldiers holding pale human bones, dull and loud.

"Roar!"

Abomination roared down the hill, waving his mace and tearing off the branches of grass and trees in his way. Several people hugged the thick tree and broke it, and it exploded with a bang, making a futile sound of sawdust breaking.

Can we defeat such an enemy?

Even the hussar kingdom lasted less than a day before the gates were breached and slaughtered, and how did Minas Tirith survive?

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die!"

In the outer city, a wealthy merchant in luxurious clothes stood on the narrow corridor, huddled with the other cloth-clothed leaders, listening to the sound of drums from outside the city, and his heart could not help but feel deep despair.

He thought of the beautiful wife and concubine at home, the gold, silver and jewelry in the warehouse, and how he overcame the difficulties and dangers of the mountains from the humble body of weeds and duckweed, and stepped on the road step by step.

"I'm going to surrender, yes, I'm going to surrender, what I have is money, Lord Saruman, Lord Saruman will definitely let me go....."

The rich merchant beat the soldiers who maintained order in the city as if he was crazy, and shouted: "You all get out of the way, I want to get out of the city!"

The middle-aged soldier with a sinking face lifted the tower shield on his side, smashed it on the rich merchant without looking, and hammered this "nobleman" with a big belly and a fat brain to the stone pillar.

"Lord Boromir has an order, whoever is near the city gate will die!"

The soldier smashed the tower shield to the ground, kicking up the dust and rolling it, "All the citizens, rush to the inner city for refuge!"

The tall walls that once gave people a sense of security are now like the decaying and fragile wooden motars of coffins, and the banners are erected in the strong wind, casting the shaking shadows on the hearts of the defenders.

A soldier with a childish face trembled his teeth, and the M16 rifle in his hand also trembled.

"Never point the muzzle of a gun at your comrade!" the veteran next to him looked grim, grabbed the quivering muzzle of the recruit's gun, and pressed down, "Hit again when you reach the range." ”

At the gates, the noise of the inner city behind him had been forgotten by Boromir, and he put down his binoculars and picked up the loudspeaker at his waist.

"Soldiers of Gondor, you come from many places, Pelag, Cialis Ongo, or Minas Tirith"

He swept the faces of the soldiers one by one, and engraved the brave, cowardly, calm, and panicked expressions in the bottom of his heart.

"But you all have one name in common, Gondor people!"

Boromir slammed his chest, and his sturdy plate armor thumped like thunder,

The lickers have come to the barren plains in front of Minas Tirith,

"This kingdom has stood on Middle-earth for millennia, and she has faced the Great Plague, the Long Winter, and the Haradians under attack."

His fingers brushed over the mottled scars on the city walls, those lines of different ages and shades,

"Behind you, there are old parents and parents, innocent and romantic children, virtuous and kind wives and partners..."

Boromir, son of the regent, was silent for a while, pursed his lips, and said bitterly,

"Fight, my fellow citizens. ”