Orc Tyrant

"This one is still alive."

The voice awakened him from his coma, but it seemed too low for an Ouke.

Something was shaking his head and pulling his helmet.

At the moment when the helmet was taken off, there was a gleam of light from the edge of the pupil, and Kundera opened his eyes.

After removing the bright blood red that dyed the sky during the fierce battle, his world turned into a thick gray at this time, and the air was full of burnt and gunpowder... so acid to death.

I'm still alive.

Exhausted, but still alive, this was his first thought.

"Just relax, man."

After the voice said, he moved him a bit, this time it sounded familiar, but it was still too low.

"Can you stand up?"

The figure moved in front of Kundera Ka, and stretched out a big hand covered in armor to him.

The guard grabbed his wrist, but at this time, every movement he made spread a dull and annoying twitching sensation all over his body, but it was nothing.

The first thing that catches the eye is the white skull mark on the opponent's breastplate. This is a very common symbol of guards. There is also a trophy bracket that burned completely in the back battle. Kundera also recognized the opponent's helmet. The three silver horns on the top and the battle axe slung across the back.

"Davari..."

Kundera spoke with difficulty, because his mouth was dry and he had to swallow his saliva incessantly.

"Davari Headbreaker."

"Yes."

He nodded and said, with his armor completely broken:

"Replace it like a fake."

"I thought you were dead."

"I almost thought I was dead, but the axe was almost fired."

He pointed to his neck, a wound with deep bones was leaking blood. Such a fatal wound was terrifying even for an Ouke, but at this time he looked like he was describing a cut on a finger. .

Davari Headbreaker, also a guard, is a good gambler with Kundera.

At this moment, just standing up became a test for him.

His legs were trembling with an unprecedented sense of weakness, and the guard who had survived the death kept blinking, trying to make his eyes clearer, but it was useless.

"Wang Ting Tiewei."

Suddenly, another voice came from nearby, Kundera turned around and saw another strange guard searching among the dead.

He seemed to be aware of the line of sight, turned his head and grinned at Kundera.

"It's nice to see you alive, Wang Ting Tiewei."

Davari laughed hoarsely, his voice low and cold like an avalanche.

"This is a name that deserves a good drink. Do you think you can survive until then, man? You look like a jumper who eats you and then pulls it out."

He felt that too, the surviving guard pointed to his blood-stained battle armor and said.

"You look better than me."

"That is."

The breaker agreed.

Kundera Ka's sight gradually became clear, but what unfolded before my eyes was a deadly and desolate scene.

The rebels were long gone, and there was nothing but the tired corpses left on the ground, but corpses in silver armor were everywhere.

"Damn..."

Kundera shook his feet.

"Fuck up, this group of damn..."

Kundera recognized Scarface first.

He fell twenty meters away from him. One arm and thigh were all missing. The fatal wound was obviously on the chest. Judging from the shape of the wound, it was probably caused by a pistol.

The guard dragged his unbendable leg and staggered step by step to his side.

"Hey?"

Kundera tried to shake him, knowing that it was useless and could not feel anything from him.

The remaining memories told him a lot.

His gun has jammed, he shouldn't have thrown the axe out, he desperately needs it now.

The bullet hit him from the side. Even when the traitor pushed him to the ground, he resisted the painful wailing. When the machete pierced his breastplate, he let out a sigh of relief in surprise, such as The picture is normal when piercing a pus

But he didn't stop fighting, hacking with that broken weapon...

he……

Kundera shook his head, this memory was really deep for him, and the enemy corpses scattered around told him the rest of the story.

"How long have I lost consciousness"

"How do I know? I have been in the arsenal below, busy slicing the intensively cultivated group of farts into pieces, what is the last thing you remember?"

"They... they are gone."

Davari took off his helmet, revealing a face dotted with old scars. His skin may have been black once, but now his head and chin are dotted with white iron dust.

But he took off his helmet as if it were purely for spitting.

"If that is the last time you remember, you have slept for almost a day, even if the rebels have been defeated, the battle is still going on."

Then, he stared at each other with almost curious eyes.

"what's happenin?"

"How did you withstand it?"

"No one can stand it."

He stepped forward and continued to search among the dead.

"How many of the guards are still alive?"

"You and me, are you surprised by this answer?"

"No."

After looking for it for a while, Kundera turned to his old friend and asked.

"Where's the boss of Bloodmaw? You should have been with him..."

The headbreaker shook his head.

"He died very heroically, and I will never forget that scene."

Bloodmaw died in battle.

Kundera’s mood is very complicated. He doesn’t know much about him. As a guard, he is too cold and xenophobic, but his combat effectiveness has surpassed most of the guards stationed in Blackstone. Enough for the latecomers to treat him as a legend.

He limped through the scorched palace, looking for the other boys.

"Tell me what happened."

"Behind? The overlord has brought reinforcements. There are so many carts that can crash this. The rebels are crushed to death like bugs. It's that simple."

"Really detailed."

Kundera glanced at him over his shoulders.

"Your storytelling is as bad as ever."

The Headbreaker snorted, his rough low voice almost turned it into a low growl.

"You ask me, I told you, what else do I want."

He was stretching his arms, trying to make his bruised arm more comfortable.

There are corpses all over the place, and Kundera Ka in the battle didn't care about it, and his energy was completely focused on slaughtering the enemy.

How many did they kill?

Soon, he found the kid Ensodi not far away, who was also a brave guy, but not long ago, he was just a humble breeder, and he could only deal with the jumping **** all day long.

He fell helplessly to the ground, head bowed close to his chest, a group of dead enemies scattered around his body, each with gun holes or cracks, and his battle axe stuck in the same battle flag. On the chest of the dead rebel.

Ensodis put his hands on his knees, as if he was praying-he looked so calm except for the spear that was deeply inserted into his chest.

He subconsciously wanted to pull out the spear, but suddenly felt that he didn't want to touch it at all.

Then, he fell down, and there was only an echo in his ears...