Orc Tyrant

The poisonous sun is still hanging down in the cloudless sky. In the depths of the scorching desert, a few wriggling figures gradually approached a sand dune. They were covered with camouflage robes with a concealed effect. The high temperature blurred the sight of the ground, but they could not stop them. The resolute ranger approached the target.

In a depression not far from the sand dunes, there is an Ok’s camp. Although this is just a mixture of dirt and messy rubble, it has all the characteristics of Ok’s camp.

Many rough green skins wandered among them. Some tried to get a place in the queue next to the barbecue. They always roared with their noses, waved their fists, spit on the ground, and let the saliva drip from between their teeth. drop.

"What an unpleasant thing."

The young ranger hid his face under his hood, but his chapped lips never stopped cursing these rude beasts.

"For them, so are we."

The most experienced and oldest ranger raised the telescope in his hand, and the other ranger next to him took out his notebook and pen and began to record.

"This is a newly built camp, the flag is two crossed red tomahawks, the tribe is confirmed as [Blood Axe], it is temporarily named Camp H128, it is about 5 kilometers away from the fortress, and the number of Ouke is between 50-300 , No heavy firepower was found."

This is their main job, investigation and recording, wandering in the dangerous wilderness every day, finding every Ok camp, and marking it on the map.

Having said this, the old ranger put down his binoculars and said to the recorder sideways:

"Have you written it."

"Well, Captain Victor."

"Give me the map."

The recorder quickly pulled out a miniature map from his back, and handed it over to the old Ranger's hand, which had exploded from the sun and was full of calluses and scars.

He looked at the dense red dots on the map, finally found where they were now, and then dotted them heavily with a red pencil.

"They are getting more and more in number, and they are about to put that straw shed under the fortress wall."

The other ranger looked at the stowed map, shook his head, then picked up his binoculars and looked at the camp.

The biggest green skin among the beasts attracted his attention. The people in the fortress called such a guy the "boss". They didn't know how the oral **** came out, but it was indeed very appropriate.

It fully embodies the weird characteristics of this race. It is always full of anger and extremely irritable. It keeps slamming its fists at the little green skins around him, making them shrink in fear, but soon these guys again Will immediately rejuvenate, as if these savage creatures use violence as a language.

"In fact, such a camp is vulnerable."

The young ranger who complained first made a muttering sound.

"We should send troops to sweep such camps. It doesn't need too much. One regiment is enough. They are just like ringworm on our body. They are unbearable and growing. But we are stuck in a lonely city and are willing to stay with it."

"This is their field, and we have no chance of winning."

This radical statement was heard more than once by the old rangers, and most of those who did not know the so-called recruits and officers babbled in their dreams.

"Look at them. They have no discipline, no organization, and no honor. Our guns can easily tear their camps apart. They are just a mob."

"No, they are definitely not a mob. Don't have such thoughts, especially in this place."

The old rangers could feel the contemptuous gazes cast by the young men. Many people said he was too cautious, and more people pointed to him as cowardly and scared.

He never denied this. Perhaps after all his comrades died, and only he survived, he did indeed become a coward, but he believed that anyone who participated in that desperate war would never miss each other again. To the second wave of war like that.

"The Oukes are obviously restless during this period, and their camps are getting closer and closer to the fortress. Is this a precursor to an invasion? Just like a year ago."

Except for the captain of the Ranger, none of the people here have participated in the campaign that was advertised in the newspapers. What they are referring to is just some veterans chatting after dinner, but their attitude towards the battle is the same as that of the old Rangers. Willing to mention more.

They turned their eyes to the captain, hoping to get some answers, but the other party just looked at the noisy camp with deep eyes.

After a long silence, he whispered:

"It shouldn't be..."

"Why?"

"Because they have such a temper, there is no warning when they really want to do it, but when they yell at you, they don't necessarily punch their fists."

The old ranger turned his head, glanced at the rear, and after confirming that there was no Ok, he said to the others:

"It's time to retreat."

In the not-too-distant past, the rangers were able to gallop on the wasteland with their horses, but now they can only use their legs to move through the green leather camps. This place has been completely controlled by the savage cavalry. The smell of horses It's easy to be caught.

They returned to the shelter where the supplies were stored, put the water and food on their backs, and began to turn back to the fortress. On the way, the young people asked a question that Victor had trouble answering.

"Can we only wait for Ok to hit the door?"

He has heard this sentence many times. Officers, wizards, soldiers, men, grooms, and even prostitutes have raised such questions.

Accompanied by such questions, there were inhuman screams that echoed in his ears from time to time. Such a sound used to make it impossible to sleep for a whole month.

"They have grown due to war. There is not much that can directly knock them down. They will continue to fight with enthusiasm beyond our imagination, and our casualties will be unacceptably high. Only by relying on strong fortifications can we make The loss has been reduced to a satisfactory level...Yes, we can only defend."

"Why not take advantage of them and use a quick assault to weaken their power before they are ready? The military education we receive has repeatedly mentioned a sentence, there is no fortress that will never fall."

"A reckless move will only speed up this pace."

"This is an excuse for cowardice! The fortress has accumulated so many troops and weapons, but we are shivering because of how many shacks?"

"Fortunately, General Yusuf didn't think like you. Any act of recklessness will provoke his anger."

"It? I don't understand, what are you afraid of."

Walking on the scorching ground, the old ranger looked at the fortress group that was faintly visible in the distance, and the illusion that had troubled him for a long time appeared again. Although it was only a glimpse, the white figure made him tremble so far.

"Trust me, you won't want to see it, it is the concrete entity of war, the real master of this wasteland."

Suddenly, with his wide-open eyes, he saw a cloud of smoke.

All the rangers stopped, but they were not on guard, because under the smoke and dust, there were strong horses and well-knit soldiers, cavalry of at least one division!

"Do not!"

The old ranger made a sound of horror, as if something terrible was going to happen. He waved his hands and ran forward, trying to stop the cavalry who were galloping.

"Captain! Danger!"

The rangers grabbed him one after another, and they cast curious glances from time to time when they passed by, and among them were wizards in long robes.

"No! Stop! You will irritate it!"

The old ranger knelt to the ground, howling in pain, but no one understood him.