Orc Tyrant

The battle did not last long. It was just a minute and a half. The Marines of the Sons of Dawn showed why they have the name-the particle sword that envelops the decomposing force field, and was pierced with destructive attacks. The wizards were covered with glyphed blasphemous armor, as well as the flesh inside.

The metal ground was stained with dripping bright red, just like those dead lives, there were only three wolverines left, forced to the edge of the railing, behind them was the ladder leading to the control tower.

The fierce battle inevitably made them breathe in deadly poisonous gas. Although they are still alive, death is only a matter of time.

However, these warriors with skin covered with blue veins still did not put down their swords. Their struggle was not without results. The corpses of the three sons of dawn and the corpses of humans were layered on top of each other.

"Ikron, Ok is coming up."

In the communicator, Rask's slightly tired voice came, accompanied by the roar of gunfire and metal collision, and the harsh roar.

"Let's hold them for a while, I will solve it right away—"

His answer was interrupted by another scream, higher than all other voices.

Two dark, slender figures sprayed out from the shadows from a high place, and their helmet microphones made a howl of frozen souls.

They rushed straight to the Son of Dawn.

One sticked out his claws, ploughed over a certain soldier's shoulder, and tore off half of the opponent's body.

The other, whose breastplate looked like it had been potholes and twisted by a shotgun at close range, was rushing towards Ikron himself, and the metal gloves slammed the airway hanging on the side of the Marine Captain's throat.

The hose broke as the shadow retreated, and the buzzing particle sword hit only the air.

The attacker seemed to want to double the results of its raid, and danced in the air with the grace of a bird predator before flying away from the Son of Dawn with pitch-black wings.

The plasma shook the space around the opponent and scratched the dark armor, but it didn't hit their target before the shadow disappeared back to the dark.

The air raid gave the other Black Army soldiers the few seconds they needed. They appeared from every corner, holding up some kind of flickering object in their hands.

"Get the enemy!"

Ykron shouted.

"The enemy is—"

He is too late. No matter what the device dropped by the enemy, they exploded.

There was no shelter on the lower bridge, no hiding place, they could do nothing but die.

Boom~~!

The explosion hit suddenly, and Ikron lost consciousness within a few seconds.

When the emergency mixed injection was pumped into his muscles, the enhanced physiological function awakened him almost immediately, and he realized that he was lying on his back, staring at the sky.

The warning system of the battle armor is calling the police, the structure of the right shoulder armor is severely damaged, the right arm is bent, and his breastplate has suffered three puncture injuries.

The vital index showed low-level internal bleeding in the right arm and abdominal cavity. The almost non-existent pain had been prevented by the injection and his strengthened nervous system. There was something blurry in the right goggles of his helmet, which he suspected was blood.

He sat up with a terrible rubbing sound at the broken knee joint.

He pushed away the smoky smoke, dust and misty organic matter from the helmet that blocked the humid air.

Unrecognizable internal organs covered almost every inch of the damaged ground, steel beams bent outward, and mud poured down from the top of the fracture like a waterfall.

The explosion damaged the structure of the lower bridge.

Even for a superman like him, Ikron was affected by the vertigo of the explosion before discovering his swiftly moving figure for a few seconds.

He perceives the shadow and the flapping of wings, and his instinctive roar makes him stand up, stand up and fight.

"Ready to fight!"

The popping sound echoing in the air was undoubtedly coming from the enemy's bolt, and then a figure appeared in front of him, staring at him through the bat-shaped goggles.

He had a gun in his hand and pointed it at him.

But the other party didn't shoot immediately, but tilted his head, the meaning was very obvious.

He wants Ikron to surrender, and they need to capture a living prisoner. This idea immediately made the Son of Dawn sneer.

The Son of Dawn raised his hand and cut his throat in response.

The raised weapon was finally triggered under the pressure of the deep-rooted muscle reflex, but Ikron had enough time to react.

He pushed himself aside when the weapon was fired, and a string of bullets was buried in the metal floor next to him. Then he flew up and kicked the opponent's abdomen.

When the black army fell, there was a sound of breaking and screaming from the helmet.

Forced to obey the broken armor, Ikron stood up instantly and pierced the opponent's neck with a broken piece of metal.

He realized that he was panting, fighting hormones and trembling from the previous blind attack, his gun was missing, so he only had the sword left, and its roar filled the **** space.

His men were dead, lying fan-shaped on either side of him.

Ikron’s deputy endured most of the explosion—their right half became a mass of shattered armor and blood stains that exposed the internal organs.

The fragments also exploded his helmet, spilling the contents of his skull onto the tunnel wall.

But it was also because he was in front of him at a critical moment that Ikron was not killed. He bent over and picked up the opponent's pistol, feeling that his anger was boiling.

The attackers had disappeared, leaving only one looking for a living. Ikron knew where they had gone, and he still had a chance to take revenge.

"Here! One more!"

Suddenly, the noise interrupted his mourning, and a group of sailors guarding the command tower found him alone.

"Catch alive!"

With the same stupid idea, Ikron sneered again and turned to the twenty or so soldiers armed with rifles.

They screamed and rushed, as if they were trying to offset the fear deep in their hearts. It was obvious that they were still slaughtered a few minutes ago and could not fight back.

Ikron did not waste bullets.

He opened the mouth of the first idiot and accelerated the particle sword before kicking the slaughtered corpse away from the spinning blade.

Howling, with the urge to growl out of anger and hatred, blocked his throat.

Obeying the instinct of fighting rules, he resisted, beheading the second sailor in cold silence.

He will avenge them.

He will avenge all of them.

The deep anger of the brain occupied him, and when he rushed into the group of sailors who attacked him with sharp blades and rifle butts, the effect burned in his muscles. He chopped them down with a cruel and efficient attack, and he even wanted to tear himself off. The blood-splattered helmet bit into the flesh of these fallen cowards.

The Son of Dawn used his body as a weapon. When they tried to surround him, they slammed a pair of sailors against the supporting beam, and squeezed them between the steel with the sound of broken bones.

The frightened sailors disregarded the leader's dissuasion and fired at zero distance, but there was no effect except for hitting two of their own.

Ikron rushed through the bullet fragments, like a vengeful soul with red stripes in the circling dust.

Each blow was accompanied by death, accompanied by a damp squeak, splitting his head and separating his body. Although his jaw had been tightly closed in pain, the roar of the particle sword was even louder.