Voice of Dragonland

PS: Excessive plot, not very delicate, let’s watch it first~~

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What kind of pain is it to strip the curse of the undead, Selosta can't answer, every time the herbs and spells are like stripping the muscles of the whole body, without a drop of blood, the pain is so painful that life is worse than death.Every minute and every second was like walking barefoot in purgatory, and he didn't even have the right to give up his life.

"ADA...it hurts..." He moaned in a low voice, murmuring indistinctly.

Sweat was all over his pale body, and under the smooth and delicate skin, there was intense pain.The hideous protruding scar on the protruding wrist has healed, leaving a few pale pink marks. He is recovering and will soon be cured.

"A child who has never been weaned!" Glorfindel shook his head. "There is nothing else to do but look for a father."

"Mylord, don't you think you have some inexplicable prejudice against this child?" Elrond carefully tucked up the quilt for Selosta.

"There must be prejudice, whether it is inexplicable or not is hard to say." Glorfindel turned his face away, not looking at Elrond's slightly reproachful eyes.

"I thought a lord would not be as knowledgeable as a child." Elrond lowered his voice, "Even if he is arrogant and willful, he still survived the pain of stripping."

"Hehe." Glorfindel sneered.

"I'm going to the battlefield soon..." Elrond looked at Glorfindel with some concern, "This child will be handed over to you to take care of..."

"No, no, I'm going to the battlefield, you take care of the children, you have more experience than me in this field!" Glorfindel jumped up, "Otherwise, let your son come, anyway, I don't take the children."

Elrond squeezed Glorfindel's wrist calmly.

"Ah!" The pain pierced the bone marrow, climbed up the spine and reached the brain, Glorfindel frowned, beads of sweat slipped down his forehead, and his face turned pale in an instant.

"Your wounds do not allow you to fight." Elrond sighed.

"What kind of strange injury is this? Why can't it heal under the influence of Vera?" Glorfindel stared at Elrond in disbelief.

"Dragon scale." Elrond slowly packed the medicine box.

"Is this the kid's sword?"

"Yes, Thranduil asked me to build it." Elrond lowered his eyes, "but this child brought it out."

"You..." Glorfindel sat down on the chair, too lazy to look at Elrond again.

"I entrust the child to you." Elrond sighed softly, "Perhaps, under your influence, he will become a true warrior."

Glorfindel said nothing.

Snowflakes fell outside the window one after another, and Glorfindel looked at the large groups of snowflakes in a daze. It was also a snowy night, but the air was not filled with severe cold, but with blood.The sound of the clash of weapons, the low chants of the wounded, the silence of the dead, and the roar of charging all came to him across time and space in an instant.

The person he wanted to protect, the ideal he wanted to uphold, flew by one after another. The corners of his eyes were a little wet, but he didn't know why.

"I want to see Lord Elrond." The low voice interrupted Glorfindel's contemplation.

"The lord is ready to go to battle, and I don't have time to see you." Glorfindel glanced back at Selosta, who was sweating profusely on the bed and was embarrassed and weak.

"I just have one question..." Selosta half closed her eyes, panting heavily.

"Tell me, I can convey it to you."

He pursed his lips tightly and said nothing.

"If you have nothing to say, then I do have something to say to you." Glorfindel stood up, looking down at him solemnly.

"What?" Selosta opened his eyes, meeting his scrutiny without fear.

"Because of your irresponsible use of necromancy, I was injured, and I can't go to the front line to command this battle." Glorfindel's gaze was full of pressure, solemn and powerful.

"I'm sorry." Selosta glanced at the bandage on the opponent's hand, with a little wariness in his eyes.

"So, you have to go to the battlefield for me, even if you are only capable of being an infantry." Glorfindel frowned, "Although you are a bit cumbersome to be an infantry now, you are not enough for an orc to slash of."

Selosta was startled, and then smiled, with a smile flowing in his desolate and haggard eyes, "ADA does not allow me to participate in the battle. In his eyes, I am not a soldier, and I cannot charge forward. But now, it doesn't matter, life or death Forget it, His Highness Legolas has already returned to the dense forest, will he still care about my life or death?"

"What a nasty brat." Glorfindel sneered, "Have you spent your whole life debating whether your father loves you more or loves Legolas more? Barbot is gathering an army of orcs to invade Soil, every piece of territory is in danger of destruction, and every creature is in danger of tragic death. A prince doesn't think about how to fight and defeat the enemy, but like a girl, he hurts the spring and autumn for a little unnecessary emotion, your shame Where is it? It is a disgrace to Orofel to have a prince like you in the jungle!"

Selosta glared at Glorfindel viciously, the muscles on her face were tense, and her eyes were full of repressed humiliation, "It's my business how I'm not good enough, why bother to involve my father and grandfather!"

"Because there's a saying that it's not the son's fault." Glorfindel smiled contemptuously, "Your father spoiled you into a beautiful scum."

Selosta jumped up from the bed, and went straight to Glorfindel with a desperate posture.And he threw himself with all his strength and ended up falling powerlessly. The strength in his body was eroded by the undead and consumed by the treatment. At this moment, there was only an empty shell left.Glorfindel was not wrong, at this moment, he was a waste.

Glorfindel stepped back, watching Cylostat crouching at his feet, trembling, sobbing at his own powerlessness, at the humiliation of Thranduil for his childish incompetence.

"Angry? Unwilling? What do you want to destroy to prove yourself?" Glorfindel squatted down, his eyes were indifferent and slightly impatient, "then stand up, be a resounding warrior, fight for Middle Earth, for your jungle Fight for the honor of a prince." Glorfindel slowed down, "No one is born a warrior, a hero is born soaked in blood, and travels through the valley of death."

"Will you help me?" Selosta firmly suppressed the unwillingness and resentment in his heart, what he needed was not a verbal dispute, if there was a way in this world for him to get rid of the criticism of Thranduil's godson's incompetence, It can only be that he has personally experienced the war and washed and reversed this indisputable fact with blood.

"I can't help you, every step and every choice is up to you. What I can do is to correct your lazy and self-important training attitude, if you still want to be a fighter." Glorfindel said slowly Slowly sat on the chair, "Now, do you still want to ask Elrond any childish questions?"

"I will definitely ask about this, but not now." Selosta wiped the sweat off his cheeks, "When will it start?"

"Look at you." Glorfindel crossed his fingers on his knees, "if your wish is to clean up the battlefield after the war, then rest is fine."

Selosta stood up, his legs were trembling slightly, his muscles were sore, he gritted his teeth and raised his head, "Now."

The plain is vast, the sky is covered with white snow, and the whole land is like a white tapestry covered with withered and yellow vegetation.

The sound of the wind brought a slight tremor from the end of the earth.

Intensified.

A line of black ash emerges from the horizon, moving forward quickly, and the tide seems to submerge.Gray-black waves of people stepped across the snow-covered land, bringing up a piece of mud, leaving a line of muddy brown rivers.

The roars of the wargs rose and fell, tearing away the last peace of the plain.

Chuckel's ape-like face appeared at the head of the team, and his deep-set eyes glowed green in the dark night.The warg howled and roared, its sharp white teeth protruding from its mouth, and sticky saliva dripped down the tip of the teeth to the ground.

Chuckel reached out and pressed the wolf's head, and the warg let out a long roar, and the corresponding wolf howls immediately followed.The team stopped slowly, and Chuckel looked around, with a bloody and cruel smile slowly overflowing the corners of his mouth.

"Wonder if our dear neighbor is ready for us and...reaper!" Chuckel burst into laughter.

The orc army raised the weapons in their hands and roared at the sky, shouting like thunder for a while, shattering the centuries-old peace of the Middle Earth.

Midrian led the army of the jungle to the north of Long Lake.

At sunset, the war stopped for a while, and the white snow on the plain was soaked in blood, which was the same color as the red clouds in the sky, like a fire falling into the mortal world, burning endlessly.

The orc army camped at the foot of the rocky mountain, and the roar of the warg could be heard faintly.

The army of the jungle encamped under the direction of Elrond.

Midrian came with Elrond to the temporary command camp.

Several familiar faces appeared in the camp.

Erelent of Lorraine, Holm, great-grandson of Togg the Dwarf, and Douglas, Mayor of Long Lake.They were familiar with each other, so the greetings were omitted, and they just waited for Elrond to speak solemnly.

"This is not a simple battle." Elrond lightly pressed the sheepskin map on the table, "For this battle, Barbert has prepared for a full 300 years..." He looked deeply at each participant Everyone looked at him intently and patiently, trying to read the sign of victory from his eyes.

"He took the cursed body left by Melkor, knocked on the gates of hell, and unleashed an evil spirit that no one knows... And we have no choice but to fight, only to fight to the death." Slender His finger landed on the center of the map, "After dawn, the orcs will launch a new round of attack. Judging from the previous two rounds of attacks, they did not try their best to fight, but just to test, to test our strength and defense, to test our latest weapons and formations."

"We have our weapons ready, and we can send them back to grandma's house at any time!" Holm's hammer fell heavily to the ground with a thumping sound.

"..." Elrond lowered his eyes, but couldn't hide his slight worry.

"Aren't we tempting?" Erelente fiddled with the long sword in his hand, "We all know that Barbert is determined to win this trip, not only the large number of orcs, but also new troops that we can't imagine."

"Branches?" Douglas raised his head anxiously, "What kind of troops?"

"The new generation of half-beasts created by Babbert," Erelente frowned, "we don't know what to call them, but they are indeed...horrible creatures that even Babbott can't fully control."

"It's just an orc, why are you so worried?" Douglas' anxiety became heavier.

"Because they...have the power of undead." Erelente stood the scabbard on the ground, pressing the hilt with both hands, "Lorraine encountered such a half-beast, although it was finally killed, we were killed and injured. There are many, and the price is heavy. What we are facing is just one of them. Babot is going to declare war on Middle-earth. I know that half of the hundreds of thousands of troops have never appeared on the battlefield. How many do you think he will have? Such an army of half-beasts?"

"Countless..." Douglas' sweat slid down his forehead.

Midrian frowned, "We do know that Barbert has even more terrifying weapons."

"What?" Erelent turned his eyes sharply.

Elrond sighed heavily, and kept his eyes shut.

"dragon."

Erelent gasped, Douglas took out a towel to wipe his sweaty forehead, Holm silently looked at the hammer left by his great-grandfather in his hand, the unstoppable force supporting his progress seemed pale and insignificant .

"This is the biggest difficulty..." Elrond sighed, "Even though the world has changed, we still remember the tragic fight with the dragon. In the face of ancient and powerful species, all powers seem small and insignificant. There is no way out, no way out." aid, we have only ourselves."

The camp was quiet, and everyone's heart was shrouded in the shadow of war.There is no doubt that they are all brave, and they have never had the idea of ​​retreating, but inevitably, they still feel fear, fear of the death of their compatriots, fear of loss, fear of failure.

The haze of dawn has not yet dissipated, and the horns of the orcs have already sounded.

But the coalition army was silent, with tents standing one after another, as if the entire army had fallen into a deep sleep.

The iron hooves of the orc legion stepped across the white snow, and the warg, like an arrow leaving the string, took the lead in sweeping away and rushed straight to the tent.But the big camp was silent, and the ashes of the campfire were still warm, but there were no traces of soldiers.

The warg roared and circled around the tent, but couldn't find anyone to attack.

Chuckel rode a brown warg out of the army and headed straight for the camp.The silence was real, the camp was empty.

There was a hint of condensation in the air, and a few pieces of snow fell from the top of the tent.

The pack of wolves that were still spinning around suddenly fell silent, turned their wolves' heads in unison, and roared at the rear of the orcs.

"Bastard..." Chuckel turned the warg around and rushed back to the camp, "Turn back!! Back!!!"

It is not an easy task to turn an army of more than ten thousand.The orcs in the front row heard Chuckel's shout, and turned their heads quickly, but were blocked by the orcs behind them. For a while, they kept shouting and shoving, and the neat army was in chaos like boiling water. Finally, most of the orcs turned around. , but still unable to move.At the end of the line were the giant orcs who reacted more slowly, and they blocked the road behind them like a mountain.

The whistling of feather arrows came through the air, Shen Xiong was powerful, and then the horn sounded.The spears were like locusts, and they rushed towards the unsuspecting back of the giant orc.

"Turn the Behemoth around! The enemy is behind!" Chuckel ordered the orderly.

The muddy horn also sounded.

It's too late.

A giant orc swayed for a moment, and its heavy tower-like body fell down.They wanted to advance but were blocked, and they wanted to escape but were squeezed by the chaotic army behind them. Some orcs watched the giant orcs collapse towards them...

The giant orcs fell one after another, causing countless casualties along with the orc army.

The giant that blocked the direction of advance collapsed, and a gap appeared, and the orcs trampled to death, and the giant orcs charged forward.

The coalition troops are in order.The bow and crossbow stand with the bow in hand, the bowstring in the hand is full, and it is controlled but not fired.The cavalry was already ready, and the horses stood upright like sculptures, not frightened or uneasy because of the terrifying cry of the orcs charging.

"Let go!" cried Elrond.

Feathered arrows shot towards the orcs like raindrops.Nailed to those ugly bodies filled with corrupt souls, the steel-cast arrows penetrated straight into the dirty flesh, piercing the head and heart, the blood splashed in this dirty tide, like red lotuses blooming in the mud, Dazzling.

After the two rounds of feathered arrows were spread out, the spear soldiers came out from the formation, and the spears were like a rainbow, piercing through like a poisonous dragon.

The army of orcs stopped immediately, and the fallen orcs caused the latecomers to retreat.

"Row!" Elrond's shout sounded again, and the steed under his crotch galloped, carrying him towards the orc army at high speed.

The heavy cavalry followed closely behind.The spearmen and crossbowmen retreated, and the infantry with heavy shields moved forward. Spears protruded from the gaps in the shields, and the solid giant wall slowly pressed upwards with sharp spears.

This is a battle that Chuckel hadn't expected at all.

If you fight like this, you will definitely lose.

He stretched out his hand to grab the messenger, and roared through gritted teeth, "The messenger, now!"

"Lord Babbert said..."

"Now!" Chuckel's eyes widened to the limit, and the two pupils seemed to burst out of the flames of hell, and his sharp teeth were undoubtedly exposed.

The orderly sounded the horn.Low and cloudy.

At the end of the horizon, a behemoth gradually rises.

The rising sun was covered by the wings, and a huge black shadow was projected from behind the United Legion.

Dragon.

"Scatter!" Elrond swung his sword and cut off the head of the orc beside him, shouting loudly, and went straight to the sky.

The elves quickly dispersed, and the dwarves in the middle of the team launched a huge catapult, as thick as a human arm, and a special iron anchor about ten feet long was wound.

The sound of breaking through the air was sharp and long.Several spears shot straight into the sky, and rushed straight to the dragon with the roar of death.

There was a clanging sound of iron hitting the rock, and the spear fell straight down, leaving the dragon unharmed.

Sweat dripped from the palms of Elrond's clenched hands, his tensed cheeks showed a helpless look, "Withdraw!"

The smell of sulfur fumigation enveloped him, the remaining snow on the ground melted quickly, and the hot wind blew across his cheeks, like a blunt knife scraping, causing hot pain.

Dragon fire fell from the sky.

Rao had expected it a long time ago and rehearsed it repeatedly. In the real face of the dragon fire, casualties are still inevitable.

Midrian urged the dense forest army to evacuate as planned, "Quick! Withdraw to the bunker! Quick!"

"grown ups!!"

The call sign was sharp and stern, and Midrian looked back.

The distorted and anxious face of the elf warrior magnified in front of his eyes.

There was a coolness on the back, followed by hot oil, and the skin and flesh were carbonized and dry in an instant.

"My lord!" Phelan swung the spear in his hand, and hit Midrian's waist, all his strength condensed on his wrist, violently throwing Midrian down.

The dragon flame passed by in a flash, leaving behind a piece of scorched land, and the people affected by the dragon flame did not even have ashes left.

"My lord!" Phelan picked up Midrian.

Midrian's eyes were closed tightly, and his breath was weak.

"My lord!" Phelan's voice was choked with sobs.

"I have been a soldier all my life, and I have assisted Orofer and King Thranduil in fighting for the dense forest. It is my best honor to die in battle..." Midrian slightly curled his lips, "Your Majesty, if I am reincarnated, I must be Your subjects..."