The Legend of Fatality

Chapter 242: Orc Pioneer

Lord Alaric climbed back up the ridge. An orc looked at him in the distance, and the odor came from him. It longed for a killing.

Alaric held his sword tightly. He could feel the protest in his muscles, and fatigue had penetrated into his bones. The heavy rain fell on his thick armor. The rain ran through his face, almost blinding him.

The orc shouted and rushed up the slope.

"Gaitan bless," Alaric whispered. The opponent is twice as wide as he is. Strong muscles gathered under the rough skin, and his strong hands waved the original notched meat cleaver. Just a few seconds ago, a warrior died under its sword, and the warrior's sword protruded from its back.

Alaric asked his body and tried the slippery land under his feet. If he is not careful, he will die, the timing is everything.

The orc rushed over, and Alaric waved his sword with his hands. The blade cut through the air, and blood spattered along the steel. Raise the meat cleaver to try to parry. But at the last moment, Alaric changed his balance and fell to the side, bypassing the sword with the cleaver. He knelt on one knee and fell over the orc's body.

Then he exhausted all his strength and thrust the tip of the sword upward. The tip of the sword was still very sharp. It pierced the orc's flesh and penetrated deeply into its internal organs.

The guy's painful horns rose, and his body was thrown forward by inertia. The cleaver fell **** the ground, but Alaric remained calm, grasping the blade with both hands and twisting it even more. The viscera with a strong atmosphere slipped from the wound and landed on the ground, emitting heat.

For a moment, the orc's head was only a few inches away from Alaric's head. He can see the pain from the facial features of the orc, just like the pain expression of human beings. Unfortunately, they are not human.

The light in his blood-red eyes went out. The orc groaned like a bellows, then fell down. When Alaric pulled out his sword, the strong body rolled onto the wet grass. Alaric panted, his arms twitching, and it took him a long time to stand up, glancing at the soldiers on both sides.

The front is still intact, along the ridge. The other imperial armies of the Great Empire of Gaitan still occupy their positions. As a striker, 1,800 soldiers from the province of Curitia fought for the commanding heights.

They lined up in three columns. The halberdmen and pikemen stood at the front, desperately trying to drive the orcs out of the highlands. Behind them, archers and crossbowmen are struggling to maintain a protective barrage. The few musketeers have no effect in the heavy rain, and they can only try to pull out their waist swords to try to solve some orcs who have rushed into the front.

Opposite those dirty orcs thrown in an attempt to forcibly climb the high ground, hundreds of orcs swarmed up the hillside. Behind them, more and more of their kind emerged from the forest canopy every moment. Although it is already noon of the day, the low sky clouds make it look later.

"Use **** **** wheel guns!" Alaric shouted, staggering back to the human front.

Hell wheel gun has nine separate barrels, divided into three rows of three barrels, each loaded on a circular axis of rotation. The advanced feature of this gun is that it can fire several destructive scattering bombs at the same time.

As he moved his pace, he felt that his fingers were holding his ankle tightly, just like being caught in a steel trap for hunting. The orc is not dead yet.

Alaric let out a cry of exhaustion and despair, and raised the sword again. He stabbed again and again, stabbing the smelly flesh indiscriminately. The orc's blood spattered out, hot and red, covering his whole body.

But he continued, wielding the blade like a blacksmith wielding a hammer. Only when he felt dizzy did he stop. When he returned to calm again, the body under his feet was nothing more than a pile of broken meat and hair.

Eventually, the **** wheel guns finally fired. From above the ridge, a series of designs flew across the sky. There are not many precious artillery pieces in the striker, but the bullets they shoot are still lethal.

The orcs' forward team immediately fell down, and their anger was also fanned out. These monsters are deadly in the vicinity, but they have no way against the cannon.

The second cannon sounded, the shells roared through the sky, dense and deadly. More orcs fell, and in a flash the uneven front shook. They are driven by the thirst for bloodthirst and war, but they can still taste fear. The halberd soldiers and spearmen on the front were aware of this change. The infantry began to move forward slowly.

"Back to your place, you dogs!" Alaric shouted. In all the teams, the sergeants shouted the same words. Their only chance was to hold the ridge, and the artillery fire earned them time, and nothing more.

Arrows flew over the human defense line and shot into the orc's crumbling front. Only a few people hit their target, the thunderous roar sounded again, and the orcs were ready to attack again. However, there are three barrels in the Hellfire Cannon that can be fired. The barrel rotates once, and the sound of the gun sounds again. Starting

This is enough. Orcs. These strong, stout, almost two people wide, and the furry monsters hid back to the cover of the woods below. Between them, the timid ones hurriedly sought shelter.

But they did not leave too far, they stopped a few hundred yards from the edge of the forest. They are safe here. They will lick their wounds in this safe place, regroup, and then become stronger the next time they come back. And it won't be long.

Alaric limped back along the ridge. Around him, various teams are regrouping. In the chaotic ranks, the sergeants screamed harshly. Discipline is everything. Once the perimeter defense is broken, for all of them, everything is over.

The other side of the ridge is Empire Avenue, which is an important artery they need to protect. The empire and they now need to rely on this avenue. The surface of the avenue was messed up with mud and shiny, but it was easier to pass than the surrounding forest. It must keep running, the fortress is only a few miles north, but every yard is important.

Alaric walked higher and higher, and saw the team's aide Antonio walking towards him. The adjutant was covered in blood, sweat and dirt. His chain mail was covered with red dirt, and his beard was tangled with blood. Despite this, Alaric smiled, and they looked like monsters at the carnival.

"What do you think?" Antonio growled. He gasped and cautiously held his shield.

Alaric glanced along the long route. The entire pioneer group is arranged near the summit of the winding ridge. On the high slope, the pikemen had dug trenches, squatting pikemen between the two pikemen, and the second row was supported by the provincial security team.

Above the ridge, the archers and crossbowmen are in place. They are high enough to see the top of the halberd, but close enough to provide cover for the troops. There were only a few cannons scattered among the musketeers' ranks. They have proved their worth, steaming in the rain.

"We can't hold it anymore." Alaric said. "They will attack again soon."

Antonio nodded.

"As you said, they will." He said. "We are losing too many people. We must retreat."

"Where are we? There is nothing behind us, only the forest, which has grown to the border fortress ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ Antonio muttered at his beard.

"He is not coming back. This is really a **** stupid errand. This ridge will become our grave. If they are willing to let go of our bodies."

Alaric lost a smile on his face.

"The order is the order," he said sharply. "Before we receive signals or new orders. We must hold our ground."

Alaric's voice was ruthless and cold, like iron. Antonio hesitated, then nodded. He seemed to admit his fate.

"Yes, sir."

He finished walking towards the front line. Alaric watched him leave. This person is right. Antonio is a veteran with twenty years of experience. In the emperor's army, few people can persist for so long. He knew what he was doing, and so was Alaric. New 81 Chinese network update the fastest computer terminal: https: //

The longer they stay on the ridge, the more orcs will come. The strikers of the orcs are gathering, anyway, they will not be able to hold here sooner or later.

"Where are you, father?" Alaric whispered impatiently.

His thinking was interrupted, and he noticed that the roar began again under the ridge. The trees began to shake, and the first orcs rushed out of the forest cover Zhang.

Alaric picked up his big sword in his hands tiredly and returned to the team. The answer to his question seems to have to wait for everything to end.

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