?P? L5?,#U??????? 5?? e??? M?I?^7'f?? o?nA?1?/V[#b?? The frenzy of the army is terrible. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

Mortar shells bombarded the zombie crowd, and each shell could blow more than a dozen zombies to pieces, either the head was smashed and hung up completely, or the body was mutilated and incapacitated.

There are not many sane zombies stretched out their arms, sprinting blankly towards the mountain, some zombies because of their legs and other reasons, were pushed by the zombies behind them and fell to the ground and could not get up again, even so, they still waved their rotten and mutilated hands and feet, dogs crawled, hands and feet at the same time, crazy rush to the mountain.

If the zombies in front are too slow, the zombies behind will roll over their companions and continue to charge.

At this time, Brian Copperbeard, who was behind the third wall, fiddled with his newfound gift, the strange musket in the shape of a bug, with great satisfaction, and glanced impatiently at the location of the zombie.

"Parim Golden Hammer!"

"Here!" replied a dwarven officer with a sledgehammer and wearing a rare piece of golden armor.

"Fixed target!No. 1 shot Zhu Yuan!Three groups of [small steel cannons] covered shooting!Don't be lazy, even if we are covering those damn orcs, but, from another angle, we are also letting them reminisce about the taste of the battle in Blackstone Mountain. Brian's wicked grin quickly spread among the dwarves.

"Hey, hey!"

"Hey, hey, hey!"

Fifteen years is almost a generation for human beings.

But for a dwarf with an average life expectancy of 800 years at least, fifteen years feels like a human being last month.

Every dwarven warrior still remembers the shame of being blocked by the Blood Ring Clan at the door of his house, and not even being able to go to his own front garden, Dan Morro. There is no dwarven romance to hunt with muskets, and there is no room to go to various mines to collect those treasures underground......

To cooperate with the tribe, the dwarves are very unhappy.

Orcs or something, just former slaves of the Alliance, now have nowhere to stay, can only run across the ocean mourning dogs.

Why work with those damn greenskins?

The dwarves are quite ignorant.

If this order hadn't been given by Duke, the Commander of the Alliance, who had been fully supporting the dwarves in their most difficult moments and had never been short of food and medicine, the dwarves would have been muddying with muskets filled with black powder but no bullets.

"Why is the face of the Black Iron Dwarf black?, and it has turned black since we pasted it with a musket!" This is a clumsy dwarven joke, but it also reflects from the side that if you don't have some merit in the Alliance, you can't stop this group of grumpy dead dwarves.

Well, very wickedly, Brian specially picked the [Little Steel Cannon] that beat the tribe into dogs in the Scorching Canyon back then!

The small steel cannons that shined in that battle actually made a lot of them later. Who knew that after the battle of Scorching Canyon, it would never be used again. At one point, the Watchfort in the Cursed Lands had a maximum of thirty-six small steel cannons.

Later, with the change of the times, the small steel cannon was replaced by the more awesome [Little Duke Cannon].

The dwarves were never short of iron ore, and it was quite troublesome to recycle these finished products, and as a result, so many small steel cannons had to be put in warehouses to play games with dust.

In this rare cross-sea battle, Duke asked the dwarves to bring small steel cannons by name, and made it clear that they would abandon the artillery at any time according to their tactics.

It's outdated garbage anyway, and Brian is certainly happy to do his bidding. Who would have thought that it could be used to scare orcs?

As expected, it was clearly visible from the third wall, and when the huge cannon of the small steel cannon rang out, several of the older orc warriors were almost frightened.

It's a nightmare that has traveled through thirteen years of time and space.

Every old orc who had been captured in the Scorching Canyon remembered the humiliation of being forced to surrender by the terrible dwarven cannonballs......

"Those bastards!" Hearing the seemingly deliberately suppressed but unbridled laughter of the dwarves on the mountain behind them, Varok and Brox, two veterans of the First and Second Dark Gate battles, suddenly became furious.

Thrall here had just rejoiced in the dwarven artillery support, and over there he found that many of his extremely heroic orc veterans behaved unnaturally: "What?"

"Alas!" Finally Grom, who had been through the Great War but had never personally experienced the final battle in the Scorching Canyon, told Thrall this allusion.

"What!?Are you sure this is the [little steel cannon] that destroyed the last orc army back then?"

Thrall was silent, despite the recent signs of warming relations between the Alliance and the Horde, the past had hurt each other too deeply. The tribe has slaughtered large numbers of humans, dwarves, and high elves. The Alliance has also destroyed the Troll Empire and enslaved the Orcs.

It's already a bad score.

"Passing the order, our enemy is only the enemy of the living in front of us. Don't get distracted by those little details. We are going to prove the glory of the tribe with Wu Xun!"

When the tribal warriors calmed down, they found that the dwarves' artillery fire was still very powerful.

In the sunlight, a large number of huge black cannonballs were falling from the sky, and they fell accurately onto the seemingly wide mountain road of hundreds of meters, splattering out the fragments of sparks that ignited the clearing. They screamed over the sky above the two massive walls, creating a hellish scene in front of the orcs.

Thrall suddenly understood why his fierce orc predecessors had become prisoners.

This is not at all a weapon of destruction that mortals can fight against physically!

Without becoming a professional, there is no chance of surviving this level of attack.

It stands to reason that in the face of such an attack, where a single shell leaves no grass within a radius of 100 meters, no existence will be spared.

But Sal found out he was wrong.

A large number of stitching monsters stitched together with countless corpses, Abomination, actually crossed the line of destruction and rushed to the bottom of the city wall under the cannon fire that seemed to destroy the heavens and the earth. You know, it's a dead end that can't be reached by artillery fire.

"Attack—" Woking's command sounded, and behind the widened shooting holes, the trolls stretched out their long arms and fired steel spears out one after another.

These terrifying spears, enough to shoot all the minotaurs to death, couldn't stop the abomination for even a second.

These monsters, whose faces were smashed and shot through, even though the eyeballs on their heads were still there, were stunned to play with the human ladder under the city wall, and use their own flesh and blood to build a slope passage that was enough to climb over the fifteen-meter-high wall.

"Give me a good rest for the dead!"

Thrall angrily brandished the Hammer of Destruction!