Stormwind God

In the roar of the earth, the green tide was divided into three, and the sharp tomahawk shone fiercely in the sun. Looking down from above, it was as if a giant trident had grown out of Elwynn Forest.

Lothar gently raised his left hand and dropped quickly and forcefully.

"Suddenly!" After a strange loosening of the winch, ten ten baskets of rubble were projected on the ten trebuchet towers behind the highest outer wall behind Lothar.

The irregular gravels contained in a den pocket spread out in midair, making a chilling howl. A few seconds later, under the action of gravity acceleration, these gravels were like a torrential storm that suddenly enveloped a large turbulent green tide.

It's not that the orcs have never used a catapult, but have never seen such a way to use a shotgun. These human fist-sized rubbles don't even look at weekdays. But now, under the action of high speed, gravel has also become a lethal weapon.

An unlucky ghost who was hit first deformed his face, and then with the protruding cavities, the entire cheek and chin bones were crushed by the huge force. Impulse pulled his burly body with his head, stopped the body moving at high speed, and kicked back in an instant. In the process, the skull was turned into countless fragments stuck by flesh and blood, while the brain plasma burst, and the neck bone was broken at the same time.

After the orc was blown upside down, it was the cold body that fell.

Most of the recruits either died directly or the viscera was crushed and crushed. The vomiting blood was accompanied by a large number of visceral fragments. It was only a matter of time.

The fierce range of human firepower narrowed the eyes of the Blackhand Chief and Orgrim.

This is just the beginning, and as Lothar draws his sword, he falls stunned.

The three-story city wall and the gap between the city walls sounded a "Beep" at the same time.

Generally speaking, it is difficult to associate the buzz with the dim sky. But after this buzz, the entire sky was dark.

Orgrim looked up subconsciously, and saw a huge black rain rising from the human giant city. He immediately recognized that it was a mean human shot.

This is the biggest blasphemy against the heroic tribal warriors.

Many soldiers did not die on the battlefield, but on such strange and disgusting shotguns. Once shot, accidentally using a strong point will leave the gun head or the weak part of the gun in the body. In hot weather, even if you dig out the gun with a dagger, the wound will easily rot.

Orgrim had seen several soldiers dragged to death in this way.

"Damn! If there is a shaman ..." Orgrim dared to mutter in his heart.

The tribal traditional shaman has been replaced by a more evil and sinister warlock. Even a healing shaman could not be found in the entire Horde expedition. What made Orgrim even more furious was that he received a message.

Durotan, chief of his best friend Frostwolf clan, visited him with his wife Draka two days ago.

A few months ago, because of suspicion that Gul'dan and the demon had a backstory deal. Gul'dan started by using the Warchief Black Hand to exile Durotan and the Frostwolf Clan from the Horde, which is the remote snow and iceland of Alterac Valley.

But two days ago, Durotan told him of Gul'dan's betrayal.

Orgrim vowed that Gul'dan's actions would be punished and sent one of his escorts to see Durotan and his family off.

Recently, Gul'dan disappeared, and I haven't seen Gul'dan publicly for more than two months. Orgrim's demand for Blackhand to punish Gul'dan and Shadow Council was met with ruthless rejection from Blackhand.

This made Orgrim's dissatisfaction even higher. What he lacks is just a reason to explode ...

Orgrim was a little vomited looking at the poor hands of the black hand.

The black javelin was rushing towards the rain, and the orc brigade in front of it seemed to hit an invisible wall head-on, and in a moment fell like a harvested wheat.

The grass was a mess, and the remains of orc soldiers nailed to the ground were everywhere.

Before the start of the war, Orgrim had strongly vowed to equip the soldiers with a sufficiently thick shield, after all, siege is different from field combat. But what did the black hand say?

"The invincible orc warrior is not afraid of a mean shot."

This is simply filling a death pit that will never fill with orc soldiers!

The Dark Portal has been closed somehow, Gul'dan is missing, and the Orc Expeditionary Force has no backup. Tribal warriors die one less, and black hands actually waste the lives of warriors like this! ?

Orgrim clucked his fangs.

"City is broken !?" A surprise cry came from the front.

Orgrim's instinct was wrong. It's too simple. Is it so easy for humans to set up defenses so long? The heavy loss in Stormwind's previous town also made Orgrim's memories even more fresh.

The black hand proudly waved his petrified fist and yelled, "Look! The tribal warriors are invincible."

Nearly a thousand orcs rushed in through the knocked-out wooden gate, and immediately Orgrim found something wrong. When a large number of orcs rushed in, a steel fence as thick as an orc thigh was dropped from the gate.

The next moment, the fire rose into the sky.

Thousands of orcs screamed desperately and mournfully all over the battlefield.

Correct! That ’s the puppet city used to lure the enemy. It was full of whale grease. When a large number of orcs poured in, human soldiers put down the enhanced version of the ‘Jinzha’, and then lit ...

The orcs are indeed brave warriors, but in front of the steep walls of ten meters high, and in front of thousands of javelinmen and pikemen waiting for battle, any climb is destined to be futile. Thousands of torches were dropped, easily turning the entire city into a **** of fire.

The screams of the ambush in the midfield, even the orcs who attempted to climb the city walls with poor wooden ladders were stagnant.

"Hahaha! Burn well!" Although the scorching smell of that roasted meat was still clearly introduced into the nostrils through the prepared face towel, King Lane still looked very excited, claiming to praise Duke's wonderful plan.

The tragic loss made the chief's face as dark as the bottom of the pot.

"Withdraw!" Rarely, the black hand ordered the withdrawal.

Then, for seven consecutive days, the tribe launched onslaughts against Stormwind again and again. Every day, the tribe lost at least 3,000 corpses. However, the tribe's best result was just the second wall.

The situation turned around on the eighth day.

"Finding a way to storm Stormwind!" (To be continued.)