Reincarnated as a boss tyrant in the game

On this vast wilderness battlefield, the Imperial Mage Corps had finally broken free from the constraints of fighting in a fortress.

They no longer needed to worry about large-scale area-of-effect magic harming friendly forces, as they had in the past.

At this moment, they were like wild beasts freed from their chains, ready to unleash their most powerful strength.

Empress Mariasha wore a solemn expression as she began to cast her first top-tier, legion-level, large-scale area-of-effect magic attack since arriving in the Northwest.

She slowly raised her hands, chanting incantations, the ancient and mysterious spells spilling from her lips, each syllable seeming to carry magic, echoing in the air.

As she slowly chanted her spells, the entire Mage Corps cooperated closely, uniting as one, continuously gathering their own magical power.

In an instant, the magic of the entire battlefield was like a disturbed lake, beginning to pulsate restlessly.

A rich magical aura permeated the air, light flickered, and there was a faint sense of shifting winds and clouds.

Rommel, as the Orcish strategist, with his keen perception, was the first to notice this dangerous fluctuation of magical power.

His face instantly became extremely grave, and a strong sense of unease welled up in his heart. He shouted, "Elite Saint-level warriors, attack! You must interrupt the human Mage Corps' spellcasting!"

He knew that once this magic was successfully released,

the Luman convoy would surely suffer a fiery catastrophe.

Upon receiving the order, the Orcish Saint-level experts did not hesitate in the slightest. Their figures flashed as they quickly took to the air, flying towards the area with the fastest fluctuations of magical power.

They were surrounded by powerful forces, their momentum fierce, like bolts of lightning cutting through the sky. However, their actions did not go so smoothly.

As soon as they approached the Imperial army, they were intercepted by the human Saint-level experts, who had been waiting in full battle array.

The Sword Saint of the Heavenly Eye stood tall in front, his entire being as sharp as a sword, coldly saying, "Sorry! This road is blocked!"

His words were concise and powerful, yet full of unquestionable majesty.

Behind him, the other human Saint-level experts also displayed their powerful auras, confronting the Orcish Saint-level experts.

Rommel looked at the Saint-level experts standing on both sides, and a bitter feeling welled up in his heart.

It was the first time he had seen the Orcs in a comprehensively disadvantaged position in front of the humans.

In the past, the Orcs had never been so passive in battles against humans, relying on their powerful individual strength and the might of their Saint-level experts. But now, the situation was completely reversed, which made him feel unprecedented pressure and fear. He didn't know if the Orcish army could survive this brutal battle.

On the battlefield, humans and Orcs clashed in close combat, the sounds of battle cries shaking the earth.

The human swordsmen and shield-bearers were closely arrayed, like mobile iron fortresses.

They raised their shields high, resisting the Orcs' attacks, the sound of shields colliding echoing like thunder on the battlefield.

Each ferocious impact from the Orcs was blocked by this solid shield wall, sending sparks flying. And the swordsmen and shield-bearers were not just passively defending; they seized opportunities to swing their long swords from the gaps in the shields, slashing at the approaching Orcs.

The cold, gleaming blades left deep wounds on the Orcs' fur, and blood splattered on the shields and the ground.

The cavalrymen darted across the battlefield like the wind. Riding on tall warhorses, they held lances or sabers, launching charges towards the flanks and rear of the Orcish army.

The dust raised by the galloping warhorses blotted out the sky, and the sound of hooves was like a war drum, shaking the hearts of everyone.

The cavalrymen's lances pierced the Orcs like sharp arrows, accurately penetrating the enemies' bodies and knocking them off their horses. The knightly swords danced in the air, drawing silver arcs with each swing, taking the lives of Orcs.

Behind the human army, the archers and crossbowmen fired non-stop.

Arrows rained down on the Orcs, some hitting them in the eyes, causing them to scream in agony;

others pierced their throats, causing them to fall to the ground and die instantly.

Heavy crossbow siege engines were even more deadly on the battlefield. The bolts, carrying flames, screamed out, exploding in the Orcish ranks and creating seas of fire.

Those Orcs who were engulfed in flames rolled around on the ground in agony, emitting horrifying screams.

The Orcs were not to be outdone, putting up a tenacious resistance with their powerful physiques and ferocious fighting instincts.

The Tiger Orcs swung their massive battle axes, each swing carrying the force of a thousand pounds.

They charged towards the human shield wall, and their battle axes could even cut deep cracks in the shields.

Some Tiger Orcs even relied on their powerful strength to leap over the shield wall and engage the humans in close combat, their roars like war songs on the battlefield.

The Bear Orcs were like heavy tanks, using their thick bodies to shield their comrades from attacks.

Wielding massive hammers, they charged towards the human army, smashing everything in their path.

The fur on the Bear Orcs' bodies was covered in blood and mud, but they remained brave and fearless, their huge figures becoming a terrifying presence on the battlefield.

The Fox Orcs, with their agile skills, moved freely within the human army.

Wielding daggers, they specialized in attacking the humans' weak points, such as archers and mages.

Their figures were like ghosts, elusive on the battlefield, causing many problems for the human army.

The shamans cast magic from the rear, empowering and defending the Orcish army.

This extremely brutal slaughter in the wilderness continued from the scorching midday sun until the next morning.

When the first rays of sunlight, like golden threads, fell upon the scarred battlefield, it presented a scene like hell.

Across the battlefield, corpses lay strewn everywhere, and the bloody stench permeated every inch of the air, making people nauseous.

The bodies, lying in disarray, were of both humans and Orcs. Some were missing limbs, while others were tightly intertwined, as if they were still fighting to the death before their last breath.

Blood had gathered into pools of dark red, "lakes" flowing in the low-lying areas, soaking the earth.

However, in the end, it was mainly the humans who remained standing.

Although they were covered in blood and dirt, and scarred all over, their eyes revealed a kind of relief after surviving the disaster, and the dawn of victory.

Solon looked exhausted. His body was covered in the blood and dirt of his enemies, and each time he swung his arms, it seemed extremely difficult, as if his arms weighed a thousand pounds.

The prolonged battle had almost exhausted his physical strength, but his gaze remained firm, concerned about the final outcome of this battle.