Orc Tyrant

"ready!"

Turk, the commander of the Eleventh Step of the Black Legion, shouted with a big horn.

"Those **** green skins are coming soon!!"

At this time, many soldiers had just rushed out of the tent, jumping and jumping trying to put on their boots while running.

They can already hear that voice very clearly.

That kind of roar.

Everyone was caught off guard. It was clear that the news received an hour ago was that Ok was blocked in the B5 area, where the defenders were still very tenacious.

But no one thought that Greenskin would obviously have a central breakthrough this time. Mt. Mihir is the core fulcrum of the defense of the entire canyon. Once this is breached, Ouke can rush out of some weak points of defense. , Rushing to the city of Tyre 30 kilometers away.

The rapid fall of the B5 area makes this hidden worry gradually becoming a reality.

At a certain distance, the battle sounds like a special sound.

The vibration of the ground, the roar of the engine, the roar of weapons, the muffled sound of explosions, and the shouts of people all intertwined into an ominous whisper, just like the savage growl of a monster that is gradually awakening on the opposite side of a hill.

Turk has heard this whisper many times in his life, and it always indicates the days when he was lucky to save his life, or the moments he would never forget.

Outside the tent, noon has arrived.

There was a mess in the camp, and the soldiers hurriedly prepared for battle. The commander raised his head and looked at the sky.

The slowly rotating clouds were stained with a layer of green, like running water infiltrated with venom.

To the southeast, a huge sandstorm seemed to be slowly spreading over the front of the imperial army, and even the dark fortifications were swallowed.

Turk squeezed out of the surging crowd, yelled orders and demanded communication.

The captains scattered around him like fragments emitted by grenade, passing orders in clear tones, and injecting rigid order into this unprepared group.

Turk called the communications officer while dragging himself up the ladder of an observation tower.

Halfway through the climb, he looked down at the orderly and called out his name.

The other party immediately threw his binoculars up, Turk grabbed the binoculars with one hand, took off the lid, and scanned to the southeast.

Next to their camp, another troop was pouring out of the tent and barracks, carrying the same turmoil as their subordinates.

Farther away, yes, he saw it.

Under the dense smoke, the intermittent explosive flashes looked like someone shaking a sand mask in front of a signal light.

The blasting was as frequent as firecrackers, and he could hear the roar of heavy weapons and the muffled roar of artillery after waking up from the position.

There are drums, real war drums, wild and rushing drumbeats.

A few seconds later, the heavy machine guns began to fire shining tracer bullets from the bunkers in the southeast into the dense smoke to the south, adding their screams to the messy whispers.

Turk's eyes widened. He first saw some movement on the edge of the dense smoke that was approaching, and then distinguished the figures and figures that were squatting like apes.

"Damn—"

He cursed softly.

In his childhood, Turk once witnessed a locust plague.

For centuries, as the granary of the empire, large areas of Gramatia have been planted with improved crops, and every few decades, the super-high yield will induce the overreproduction of insects.

The swarms of locusts covering the sky and the sun can stretch for dozens of kilometers like a river.

He has never forgotten the sound of a trillion pairs of wings flapping, the roar is like the whispers of war.

He has never forgotten that sight.

Now, he was forced to remember all that.

Large groups of green skins emerged from the tumbling clouds, and charged infantry and rampant horsemen swept the fortifications like locust swarms, and descended on the front of the imperial army like a landslide.

The tall bosses led the offensive, and their swords and axes shone in the dim light.

Tide-like infantry followed closely behind. Under the cover of sand and dust, their dark green skin looked black, like countless locusts surging.

Turk saw a flying flag painted with a white Okker skull, a leather battle flag waving like fragile green metal, and a turbulent totem pole depicting many primitive symbols.

They are unorganized and undisciplined.

The Oak cavalry charged with a large group of infantry. He saw scattered horsemen roaring on the beasts as big as cows. Among the horsemen, the dark armored beasts rushed out, and their wide backs were packed with farts. A platform for sophisticated automatic weapons.

Primitive rockets driven by unstable compounds burst out of the small subgroup like fireworks and exploded in the imperial army camp.

At this time the whisper was no longer a whisper, it became a roar.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ! ! !

Turk jumped off the ladder and landed beside his men.

No matter which unit is garrisoned to the east of the infantry camp, it has been swallowed by this Oker storm, and Turk knows very well that as the storm hits, more soldiers are waiting to be harvested, just like after the improvement. The crops were swarmed by hungry locust swarms.

Turk estimated that they only had five minutes before Oak's offensive came to him.

"Defensive formation!"

He shouted to the captains:

"Sixth row, cannon in front! Place the mortar on the ridge! Send the order! Send it out!"

The soldiers turned like a precision machine, arrayed in the open space south of the fortification.

Two alternating rows of barbed wire and trenches strengthen the northern front behind the corrals and toilets. The gunners bared their teeth and tried to move their heavy weapons, ammunition boxes and tripods to new locations.

Soldiers with mortar barrels on their shoulders ran past them.

"Forward! Forward!"

Turk shouted at the soldier holding a rifle, and he swung his short sword above his head.

The deputy commander appeared beside him and put a communicator into Turk's hand.

"The division! The division! The division!"

Turk yelled at the communicator.

"A large-scale invasion at location 88 and to the southeast! A large number of enemy troops have arrived! We are preparing to fight! Request reinforcements!"

"We have understood."

The communicator answered like this.

"Stand by, hold on, we are transferring troops to your position, for the empire."

"Yes! For the Empire"

Turk said succinctly, then threw the communicator to the deputy commander.

"Set up the **** flag!"

After speaking, Turk looked back at the doomsday that was about to swallow them. He realized that what he was afraid of was not the huge number of howling enemy troops, but the group that appeared together, more than ten times higher than their fortifications. The silhouette looming in the distance.

Maybe other people can't understand it, but for Turk who has seen the Titan, it is like a mountain on top.

As far as he knows, the Titans in the Citizen Temple have all been withdrawn for a simple reason.

They lost an experienced captain.

It is said that an old captain was hit by a stray bullet and his entire lower body was torn apart. When he was rescued back to the camp, he died. The Citizens Temple immediately evacuated all the Titans.

So for Turk, the most terrible trouble is not the endless Oak, but...