readx;?? (It's the end of the month again, frantically begging for subscriptions, the old wolf is going to eat meat again!) Thank you also for your big reward and support! ）

The flames of war are gradually extinguishing. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

The woodlands after the bitter battle were filled with the smell of blood and stench.

Vanel dragged his body crisscrossed with claw marks, and walked with difficulty through the corpse-strewn battlefield. Every now and then, he would lean over and tear open the wreckage of corpses all over the place, and from inside he would dig out the remains of an orc who had died in a horrible state.

The battlefield in front of him was full of staggered corpses of orcs, and of course, more strange-shaped insect corpses. The predator war insect is already ugly, and when it is smashed by the orc's big axe and stone hammer, the flesh and blood are blurred, and it is even more and more impossible to look directly.

Vanel rummaged through three or four piles of corpses in succession, but did not find a single orc still alive, and his heart was filled with endless desolation and pain. Every orc corpse he picked up was carefully set aside, and he thought that some warrior from his tribe would come and bring them back.

Just when he accidentally touched the huge wound under his waist and ribs, and the pain of cold sweat flowed, a wolf cavalry riding a huge coyote rushed down from the hill in the distance.

"Dear Lord Vanel, Wolf Cavalry Thor reports to you!"

The wolf cavalry rushed forward and restrained his mount, pushed the wolf helmet on his head, and saluted the orc leader on his back.

"How's it going, Thor? Have all the bugs returned? ”

"I'm afraid the war isn't over yet, chief. The bugs had retreated 10 miles away and were hoarding there, looking as if they were waiting for reinforcements. Ratherlake asked me to come back and report to you. If you're okay, I'm going to go back and keep an eye on them! ”

"Tell Ratherlake to stop coming into close proximity with the bugs and keep a lookout from a distance. If there's anything going on with the bugs, remember to come back and report it quickly. ”

"Yes, Chief!" The urn agreed angrily, and Thor patted the wolf on the neck, and the fierce coyote covered in dense gray hair hissed, and the wolf cavalry disappeared behind the hill in an instant.

Varnell stood and thought for a moment, then turned and walked towards the orc camp at the rear of the battlefield.

Countless orc women and children on the battlefield were digging around in the corpse pile, finding out every bloody orc corpse, and then leading to the rear for burial. And a large number of insect corpses were also gathered together by them, and then incinerated by fire.

No way, those bugs seem to eat everything. If you leave these insect corpses to them, maybe next time you can make the Zerg more powerful.

The battle had just ended half an hour earlier, and Varnell led an army of 80,000 orcs against a flank of the Zerg. Perhaps before the war, he would never have imagined that in order to annihilate the less than 50,000 Zerg troops, the entire orc army would lose more than 20,000.

Orcs are brave, orcs are fearless, and orcs are the toughest warriors in the entire Crane plane! But this can't make up for the difference in equipment between the two sides.

The orc's equipment was based on the barren Northwest Wasteland, where there was a lack of large metal deposits, and there was also a lack of blacksmiths to craft sophisticated weapons and armor, so the orc warriors were almost always on the battlefield. On the other side of them are terrible bugs in full gear. They are no longer poor little insects that can trample a large area to death with one foot, but terrifying war insects that are as big as mastiffs and have carapaces as hard as steel plates.

In particular, the full-arthropod predators are more like all-metal killing machines, and even if most of their bodies are smashed by orc warriors, they will use the remnants of sharp arthropods to dance wildly and pierce.

The orcs may be so powerful that they can dance a small tree in their hands like the wind, but their bodies are still made of flesh and blood, and in the face of sharp arthropods doped with special metals, a piercing is a bloody hole, and a single stroke is a huge wound.

As the brute force of the Minotaur warriors lined up in a row, brandishing thick wooden stakes and smashing a bloody wind in the swarm, swarms of beetles and war bugs were also frantically bleeding them. Minotaur warriors may be the bravest, but they are also the fastest. They often fall into a brief state of madness when they see blood, only to charge at the densest part of the swarm, and then swing the stake like a rammer.

But the swarms were endless, and soon their tall and muscular figures were overwhelmed by the surging tide of insects, and all that was left was the tooth-clattering sound of cutting.

Centaur warriors as rangers don't have the precision of elves, and their half-to-mid-range shots and spear throws can't help the hard carapace of bugs. Therefore, they could only raise their spears, and like the short orcs, they launched the most courageous death charge.

In the battle just now, the orcs built an impregnable Great Wall of Rou with their own flesh and blood, and then wiped out most of the living forces of the opposite swarm with their moving bravery. In the end, only about 3,000 remnants of the swarm withdrew from the battlefield and disappeared into the depths of the woodland.

With such rudimentary combat preparations, the orcs were able to achieve such impressive results without any defenses. I have to say that the orcs are worthy of being the most physically powerful warriors on the Klein plane.

However, this glory fell on Vanel, but it was so heavy that his aging body became more and more rickety.

He is only forty years old this year, and in the human body, he is completely in the prime of life, but in the orc, which has an average life span of only fifty-five years, he is no longer strong, and he is gradually entering the aging stage. If it weren't for this sudden outbreak of insect plague, I'm afraid that he would be replaced by a new orc hero in the next year's hero competition.

Walking with heavy steps, walking past the undulating corpse piles, past the warriors sitting by the trees and snoring and resting, past the two women carrying the orc corpses to the rear, past the simple and simple pointed wooden barracks, Vanel slowly walked to the pointed cowhide tent at the back of the camp.

Along the way, he saw a lot of tribal animal skin battle flags fluttering high, but the warriors of the various tribes who could stand under them had become much more sparse. Even under the banner of the Split Hoof Tribe, which represents the Minotaurs, the number of warriors has become so scarce that they cannot form an army.

Varnell watched silently and walked silently. In his mind, there were countless mysteries waiting for High Priest Sanger to answer to him. Today, he desperately needs an answer!

High Priest Sang's tent was still so dark and gloomy, and Sanger himself looked even more emaciated and weak.

As soon as he entered the tent, Varnell drove away the two little shamans guarding the tent, and then stood in front of the central fire pit and asked in a deep voice.

"Is it worth it for us?"

High Priest Sanger sat alone in the shadow of the tent, and not even the light of the fire jumping in the pit could illuminate the darkness that enveloped his face.

"What do you want to ask is it worth it?"

"Is it worth it for us to fight for the elves? Now the sacrifices are the best of the orcs, but what about the elves? They got out of the way and put us on the front lines of the battle against the Zerg, but what about them? ”

"The elves are still discussing, they need to prepare!"

"They're discussing, they're preparing, but it's the orcs who make the sacrifice and pay the price! High Priest, if this continues, will there be a future for the orcs? By the last sentence, Vanel's voice was close to roaring.

"Everything we do now is for the Horde!" High Priest Sanger replied hoarsely.

"For the sake of the tribe, for the sake of the tribe" Vanel's emotions were obviously a little out of control: "At the whole clan meeting of the tribe, you said that, and you still say that. But I need to know a clear message now, who are we fighting for? ”

"Of course we're fighting for the Horde!" Sanger roared back in anger.

"You've always said that, but I need a clearer guide now. The whole clan has handed over their excellent warriors and gathered them under a big banner, and now you let me lead them to rush to the swarm and rush to death, can such a fighting tribe have a future? ”

"But we must fight! The Ancestral Spirit has clearly told me that the Orcs can only survive by fighting, otherwise the Orcs will die! ”

"Then let the Spirit of the Ancestors tell me personally!" With a deafening roar, Varnell roared out his heart in a frenzy.

In the shadows, the body of the High Priest of Sanger shook, and although his face was unrecognizable, his eyes lit up with a blazing red light.

"Okay, okay, since you must read it, then I'll let you see the prophecy of the ancestral spirit"

High Priest Sanger stepped forward, revealing his face for the first time in the light of the fire. It's only been a few days, his cheeks have been thin like a skeleton, and his body is even more rickety and weak, if it weren't for the burning eyes and showing vigorous vitality, I'm afraid outsiders would only treat him as a dry corpse.

High Priest Sanger removed a sharp tooth from the necklace of animal teeth around his neck, slashed the index finger of his right hand, and traced a strange pattern resembling an eye on Vanel's forehead with his wizened ghost-like fingers, before holding the sides of his head with both hands.

"Since you want to see it, then I'll let you see it"

With the windless automatism of the stone hammer battle banner behind him, the low and majestic orc war song slowly began to echo in the camp tent, and the historical fragments that happened at some point in the future quickly flashed in Vanel's mind. Every scene is so thrilling, every scene is so heartbreaking, most of the scenes are orc tribes being slaughtered by some mysterious alien race, there are mountains of corpses and blood everywhere, there are orcs roaring and falling figures everywhere, broken camps and piles of corpses everywhere

In almost all of the scenes, the orcs are dead, and the orc tribe disappears.

But in only one scene, a tall and mighty orc stood in the bloody rain, wheeling a giant axe in one hand and holding the tribal battle flag high in the other, leading thousands of orcs to fight in the endless sea of insects

High Priest Sanger persevered until the end, and when Vanel saw all the future, he sat down on the ground panting, his cheeks unusually red.

"The future of orcs is all about fighting. Only fight to survive! Sanger hissed in a struggling voice.

"Fight nine deaths in one battle, and passively avoid fighting and ten deaths. I see, I see," Varnell muttered as he closed his eyes in pain.

After a long time, he opened his eyes and slammed himself on the chest as he looked at the dead High Priest of Sanger on the ground. He pulled the battle flag symbolizing the Stone Hammer tribe from the ground, turned and strode out of the tent.

The moment the tent door was lifted, the afterglow of the setting sun painted a hint of gold on his body.

The war of the orcs continues!