The silk mage robe decorated the thin body of Myrgas with an elegant temperament, the elven mage's long golden hair fluttered in the wind and snow, glowing with a smooth and smooth fluorescence in the sun, and the blue eyes looked down, making the hearts of those who met his eyes have a feeling of being watched.

Behind him, their enemies were getting closer and closer, the largest force the half-elves had encountered since they entered Osim, and the black and oppressive figure could already be seen, and everyone seemed to hear the sound of the earth trembling in their ears.

The contrast between near and far, light and dark, one and many, is stark.

However, the thin figure of Melgas in mid-air seemed to divide the world into two parts, fear and anxiety quietly left their bodies, the cold became so real, and their minds became more and more calm.

Melgas opened his embrace, and raised his staff in his right hand, the blue magic crystal refracted a dazzling light, and the magic swung around him, spreading his voice:

"Elven creatures, I am Grand Duke of Osim, the living gallery of Quel'Thalas, the inheritor of High Elf poetry, and the magister of the 'Rosicrucifer'. ”

His tone was unhurried, as if he was recounting an ordinary event with his friends, and his voice sounded in everyone's ears, revealing a natural mystery and power.

Including Golon.

Raising his head in surprise, Goron suddenly realized that the other party was doing a pre-war mobilization, and was suppressing the momentum on his side, and when he looked back, the faces of the boar man and the kobold warrior were already in addition to the panicked expression, while the ogre turned his head to look at the person next to him, with a look of "what are you talking about"?

This is beyond their comprehension, and once they understand that they cannot understand this thing, they quickly develop a fear of the unknown.

"Hurry up and get close to them!"

Goron yelled, and the group quickened their pace, but Melgas chanted in an infectious tone as if he hadn't noticed them.

His instinctive feeling was that it was some kind of classical song, or poetry or something.

In fact, Goron was right, as an artist in the world of civilized High Elves, it was not difficult to express the pre-war mobilization in poetry.

The chanting in his ears continued, and with the blessing of Melgas's magic and his masterful chanting skills, his calm quickly infected and inspired the High Elf.

Goron felt terrible.

This feeling is as if in modern warfare, the other party directly hacked into your wireless command system, and then made a speech on war mobilization inside!

And they, can only be silent.

The sound of the pace gradually became chaotic, but it was never neat, what was really messed up was Goron's heart, this soft attack made him feel powerless to be manipulated without knowing magic skills, Goron looked at the faces of his subordinates, all of them were full of nervousness, obviously the invisible pressure had made them messed up.

"Damn it. ”

A flame suddenly lit up in his hand, and Goron waved his hand and threw it into the sky, which attracted a lot of attention, but of course, the fireball missed its target perfectly and finally disappeared into thin air.

However, Goron never had the luxury of being able to smash the other party with his half-fireball, and he only did it to attract the attention of the tribesmen more quickly.

"Warriors of the Horde, I, the chief of the Bloodhammer Clan, the Ogre's Sacrifice, the High Chief of Osim, Golon the Soul Breaker!"

I don't know if it's a heart, Goron's opening turned out to be the same as Myergas.

He grinned maliciously, and his two heads burst into angry roars, like an atomic bomb, sweeping away the silence in the ranks in a furious manner.

"In the name of the Osim Plateau, for courage and glory, the warriors of the tribe!

"Blood! War! Goron!"

Goron yelled frantically, but his voice became a little pale and weak under the magic of Melgas.

No, we have to add another fire!

Goron's heart was sensitive to the fact that once the others reluctantly followed him with a round of devoid roars, the fragile morale was estimated to collapse all at once.

It has to be more sincere!

Time seemed to stand still, and thousands of thoughts swirled in Goron's heart, all kinds of thoughts arose and then were discarded, but they could not be determined, or dared not pay attention.

He slightly measured his left head, and on his right, the ogre's face appeared in front of him, it was a fierce and brutal face, and after so long, it gradually became ordinary and familiar.

Hit by the melancholy of the passage of time, a simple and persistent will suddenly welled up in the depths of his soul, an instinct, a duty, and a mission, which was the most important thing he, Soul Breaker Goron, an ogre chief to do.

Taking a deep breath and feeling the comfort of his lungs being stretched to the limit, Goron raised his head and let out an eternal roar on the Osim Plateau:

"The smell of this enemy is worth tasting!"

"Roar Roar Roar !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Roar T

The world stood still in an instant.

Solid stone's clumsy pace suddenly quickened.

Mugel's eyes widened suddenly.

Bloodslaughter shuddered and grinned a bloodthirsty grin.

Volcanoes erupt after a hundred years of slumber, and the earth trembles after 10,000 years of calm.

The next moment, the air was boiling!

"Blood! War! Goron!"

"Meat !!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Roaring !!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Buzz!

The loud sound shattered Goron's hearing, and a tsunami-like roar echoed throughout the snow-capped mountains, trembling as the creatures of the Osim Plateau forever reverberate, representing the ogre's mad roar.

Poetry is like a delicate oil painting, torn to pieces and crumpled by a pair of large hands. Melgas shook violently in mid-air, and the magic in his body almost ran away, and the half-elves were collectively shaken by the thunderous sound, and their legs went limp, and they fell to the ground in unison.

"Blood! War! Goron!"

The boar and kobold were in a state of madness, and the life of the Bloodhammer Clan had long made them understand and yearn for this resonance that represented courage and strength, and then, as if instinctively, they shouted with all their voices.

Trolls are no exception.

Wojin felt that the blood in his whole body was surging, the pounding sound of his heart was like a war drum in his soul, his eyes were even a little bloodshot, and a powerful battle intent surged up.

"Blood! War! Goron!"

"Meat !!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

With war intent and enthusiasm in his heart, Woking also roared these few war cries that he didn't understand, and rushed towards the enemy.