"Is this the fourth scourge that Soth created with the help of the Mind Flayer Mastermind and psychic technology? They are really an interesting bunch..."
The Elf Lord stood at the entrance of the inter-dimensional portal, a very curious expression on his face.
In fact, this was not the first time Corellon had observed these outsiders.
Long before Zuo Si summoned these guys in large numbers to the north of Faerun to engage in a great battle with the coalition of tens of thousands of gathered monsters, he had already noticed the other side's completely different mental state and their ferocious fighting style that showed no fear of death at all.
However, like other gods at that time, they all thought that these people dressed as adventurers or mercenaries should be helpers summoned by Zuo Si from other time and space, and they did not realize the real secret hidden behind them.
But now that he has figured out the truth, Corellon can finally observe and understand the thinking logic of this special group from another perspective.
In fact, he didn't even need to try to distinguish whether an orc or half-orc was a local native or a player.
Because the mental outlook and temperament of the two are so different.
Although the local orcs have undergone some changes under the influence of Thrall's elemental and shamanic trade, the barbarism, ignorance, stupidity and worship of the strong in their bones will never be completely eliminated without two generations.
In contrast, players give people a significantly more civilized feeling, and exude an atmosphere of equality and freedom from head to toe.
This is something that no mortal in the entire continent of Faerun can ever possess.
Because even if we exclude factors such as social class, power, and wealth, the gap between professional level and individual strength alone will lead to inequality between people.
Not to mention the instinctive awe of powerful beings such as gods, demons, devils, and angels.
Only by viewing the whole world as a fake game can one truly achieve transcendence from the root.
This is also the reason why countless people are addicted to the virtual game world.
Since people often encounter too many problems such as exploitation, injustice, oppression, bullying, etc. in real life, they will look for ways to escape anger, pain and despair under the instinctive self-protection mechanism.
The virtual world in the game happens to be a perfect spiritual refuge.
Here, they can experience a completely different life and appreciate the scenery and happiness that they can never experience in the real world.
The most important thing is that everyone here is relatively fair and has only one identity, that is, a player.
No one can win at the starting line from birth. When a character is created, it starts from the lowest level and gradually becomes stronger through one's own efforts.
Everyone can choose the game mode according to their own preferences and find like-minded friends and partners. There is no need to consider the complex emotions and interest relationships in the real world. All words and actions can become very pure.
Even if you offend the so-called "big shots" in the game and are besieged, the worst that can happen is that you just give up and switch to a new game, or delete the original character and create a new one.
There is no need to worry about offending the powerful in the real world and having your family broken up, or even losing your life.
Therefore, the vast majority of players hope that the virtual game world can remain as "fair" as possible, so that every effort they make can get the due reward.
Any behavior or change that attempts to undermine this fair mechanism, whether it is those studios that destroy the gaming experience like locusts, or the so-called "prop charging model" that directly tramples on fairness in pursuit of profit, will ultimately result in a significant shortening of its life cycle, and it will die suddenly in just one or two years or even a few months.
However, Zuo Si created the Fourth Disaster obviously not for profit, but to build a force with strong subjective initiative to serve his own plan when needed.
Moreover, what the player obtains is equivalent to his own, so he will naturally not be too bored to exploit the resources.
The freedom and equality that Corellon felt were the fruits of this favorable environment.
In particular, the players' natural "fun-loving" mentality of being positive and optimistic and not minding the chaos of watching the fun obviously fits his expectations for the ideal elf society.
After all, most of the elven pantheon tends to be chaotic good.
The biggest characteristic of chaotic goodness is that it likes to live a free and unrestrained life and often plays pranks.
Fairy dragons are the best example of this.
Almost all adventurers who wander in the forest for a long time will encounter the teasing of this tiny dragon.
At this moment, Corellon saw several players gathered not far away playing cockfighting out of boredom.
And through a rule similar to drawing cards, the wizard and priest nearby can cast various arcane or divine spells on the two chickens to add unexpectedness and fun.
In just less than ten minutes, six chickens died.
Of course, these dead chickens will not be wasted. They will be immediately sent to the kitchen to be made into fragrant dishes and served to the guests.
Watching chickens killing each other and eating the meat from the corpses of the defeated ones is really too much hell for the chickens.
In addition to cockfighting, there are also sheep fighting, bull fighting, and even slaves such as goblins and gnolls are thrown into the arena to play cruel elimination games according to the rules.
Many local orcs saw this unique scene for the first time and were immediately attracted by the creativity of these "compatriots".
Countless people were immersed in the roaring and shouting at the top of their lungs, and unknowingly lost all the valuables they had.
There is no doubt that all of this is a conspiracy set up by the players in order to snatch the valuables from the local orcs, as well as the magical items that they themselves cannot even identify.
You have to know that when it comes to betting and gambling, losing is not scary; what is scary is winning.
When a person starts winning money and experiences the addictive pleasure from it, he or she will soon become deeply addicted and become a gambler with no bottom line.
Obviously, the arrival of these guys has made this originally simple grassland city become chaotic.
Inspired by them, the local orcs quickly learned all kinds of cheating techniques from the civilized world, and countless disputes and troubles emerged one after another.
"Captain, you have to find a way to control them. If we let them continue to make trouble like this, our warriors will no longer have the heart to fight."
An older orc shaman warned with a worried look on his face.
The corner of Sal's mouth twitched slightly uncontrollably: “Ignore it.
According to the spies' report, the enemy army is very close to us.
War might break out within a few hours.
When the fight starts, they won't have time to think about these messy things."
"Oh? Are the orc gods ready to take action against us?"
There was a barely perceptible flash of nervousness in the shaman's eyes.
After all, Gruumsh has ruled the spiritual world of the orcs for too long, so long that no one remembers whether he created the orc race or whether the orc race made him what he is.
But one thing is certain, that is, this chaotic evil god will never sit idly by and watch the birth of an orc god that is completely out of his control.
Thrall nodded seriously, "Yes, that's right. There are already several armies on the Rongma grassland, with a minimum of 10,000 or 20,000 troops and a maximum of 60,000 or 70,000 troops. They are obviously coming for us."
"So it will be a tough battle for us?"
The shaman raised his head and cast his gaze toward the city wall in the distance that was being continuously expanded and reinforced.
Because they received early warning, they not only withdrew their forces in advance, but also began to build fortifications day and night.
Especially after the players arrived, not only did the project progress by leaps and bounds, but many death traps such as urns, bastions, slopes, and tunnels were also built. The underground was also dug in all directions, so that when necessary, they could sneak behind the enemy through tunnels to launch a sneak attack.
Some guys who used to be civil engineering majors were converted to contractors on the spot, working hard with their teammates and the indigenous orcs.
Occasionally, you can see professional officers from the Warhammer universe instructing everyone on the essentials and precautions of building fortifications.
So even though the construction time was not long, with the help of professionals and magic, Ilinwuer had already become a terrifying meat grinder and war fortress.
Not to mention the wars in the era of cold weapons, even in the era of hot weapons, it would be impossible to defeat the enemy easily without heavy artillery clusters and massive aerial bombardments.
Just when Sal was about to say something, the clock tower in the center of the city immediately made a rapid tinkling sound.
This sound seemed to have some kind of magic, which immediately made the crowd who were eating, drinking and having fun the previous second put down what they were busy with, put on their armor as quickly as possible and rushed to the city wall.
It goes without saying that this bell is the alarm for the enemy's attack.
In fact, most cities in Faerun have one or more similar clock towers.
The only duty of the soldiers stationed there 24 hours a day is to detect the enemy in advance and ring the bell to sound the alarm.
"Quick! Light the fire! Heat the oil!"
"Arrows! We need more arrows here!"
"Move more stones and wood. The wall on the side is obviously the shortest. The enemy will definitely try to climb from this side."
"Trebuchets and ballistas, listen to my orders! Do not fire without permission!"
"Where's the gunpowder? Where's the smoke powder we bought from the West Coast Empire at a high price? Bring it all up! The musket troops quickly load it up!"
…
As a large number of orders were passed down in an orderly manner, the city that originally seemed chaotic quickly became busy and orderly.
Thrall, who had just arrived at the city wall, was surprised to find that his most troublesome command and organization coordination problems were easily solved with the help of the players.
In particular, many teams came from the military and had participated in countless large-scale wars, and had accumulated rich experience. They easily incorporated those local orcs who had no idea what to do into their command system.
Accurate!
Fast! Efficient!
It was even the first time he witnessed with his own eyes that an army of orcs could operate as efficiently as a war machine.
Even the panic among the lower-level fighters was gradually fading.
Because anyone who is not blind can feel his own strength.
At least they are many times stronger than those outside the city wall who are in a mess and have no formation at all.
"Has it finally begun? Let me see what kind of miracle the Fourth Calamity that Soth mentioned can create."
Corellon, controlling the body of a cloned orc, picked up a longbow of barely acceptable quality from the ground, and stood with other crossbowmen, ready to fight.
Although his current real level is not even LV1, the skills and combat experience in his mind are still there.
When Gruumsh's followers began to attack the city walls and entered the range, the ballistae and catapults were the first to start showing their power.
Along with the creaking sound of wood, a large number of stones, thick crossbow arrows, and burning explosive barrels and oil tanks flew into the air and hit the enemy directly on the head.
Often seven, eight or even more orcs can be killed with one strike.
The violent explosion and flames made those unfortunate half-dead guys scream in pain and beg their companions to kill them.
"Charge! Charge! Kill all these traitors who dared to betray the teachings of the great orc gods! Make a mountain of their bodies!"
"Sacrifice! Gruumsh demands a sacrifice of blood and souls! Kill every living thing in this city!"
"No force can stop our overwhelming offensive!"
"Don't be afraid! As long as we rush to the bottom of the city wall, those catapults, ballistae and crossbows will not be able to hit us."
"Watch out for battering rams and siege engines! Don't let them get damaged!"
Orc chieftains and voters from different tribes and even different planes shouted loudly to command their armies.
It is not difficult to see from those siege weapons made entirely of animal skins and wood that they are not the most primitive small tribe living in the deep mountains and forests, but a large tribe with a certain number of craftsmen and knowledge heritage.
These tools were made from trees they cut down south of Illinur near the Galena Mountains.
Although the reliability was very poor and some of them broke down before being pushed halfway forward, the advantage in quantity solved the problem of poor quality.
In the rear, there was even a large crane-type catapult that continuously threw huge stones at the city wall.
With the combined power of its own mass and gravitational acceleration, each piece could smash a dozen people into a pulp with one strike.
Even if it hits a thickened city wall, it will leave a deep dent.
If it falls inside the city, it will directly raze a building to the ground.
Fortunately, this type of super-heavy catapult has very high requirements for the quality of wood, so there are not many of them. Some of them have their arms broken into two sections while being thrown, so the overall threat is not that great.
At least until all the players are killed and the entire command system collapses, there is no need to worry too much about morale issues.
After all, emotions are contagious.
When the officers at the top of an army begin to become afraid of death, the soldiers below will naturally follow suit and become very timid.
But if the officers above take the lead in charging every time, chat and laugh in front of the enemy's fierce long-range weapon attacks, and even occasionally tell a few dirty jokes to relieve tension, then the soldiers will naturally become extremely brave and fearless.
And the group of players that supports the entire city's command system happens to be composed entirely of such people.
Not only did they not have the slightest intention of hiding, but they also led the charge to the front line, crushing the enemy who first entered the attack radius.
Many orc warriors were killed without a trace before they even understood what was happening by various magic arrows, enchanted bullets, and long-range spells.
The first wave of two to three thousand people who rushed in fell on the road of charge without even a splash.
Such fierce firepower coverage and large-scale use of magic shocked and stunned the orcs who were accustomed to winning in chaos.
Because in their impression, except for a very small number of orcs with the bloodline of dragons or other magical creatures, it is basically impossible for their compatriots to learn arcane magic.
But now, there was a row of orc mages and warlocks wearing robes of various colors standing on the city wall!
In particular, many of the burly orcs were wearing robes that were obviously snatched from other people. The robes were short, small, and tight, almost as eye-catching as tight skirts.
Some are simply women's styles, with only the chest barely covered on the upper body, leaving the thick black chest hair, back, belly button and waist completely exposed.
Some of them wear them because they pursue the powerful attributes of the equipment, while others simply wear them for fun to disgust others. They even wear all kinds of strange sexy stockings on their hairy feet and thighs.
As the saying goes, for some people putting on a mask is actually taking off a mask.
Such a unique painting style is unbearable not only for humans but even for orcs themselves.
The only thing that might make them feel comfortable are the female orc warriors wearing bikini armor.
Unfortunately, all the attention of these female orcs was focused on Chieftain Thrall, and several of them even threw him flirtatious glances and blew him kisses.
"Crossbowmen! Get ready!"
"shoot!"
Seeing the second echelon of the orc army following closely behind, stepping over the corpses and rushing towards the city wall, the player in charge of commanding the arrow tower decisively gave the order to fire a volley.
Corellon, who had been waiting for a long time, said nothing, pulled the bowstring with a smooth and pleasing movement, and then gently released his fingers.
Whoosh! This arrow did not draw a beautiful parabola in the sky like other arrows, and then rain down on the enemy's head. Instead, it spun and flew straight to an orc warrior who seemed to be of high status.
The latter obviously sensed the danger and immediately raised the weapon in his hand to block, but he never expected that the arrow suddenly turned to the side when it was about to collide with him, and went straight through the temple of another orc warrior, who fell to the ground with a thud and died beyond death.
Such horrifying archery skills made him break out in a cold sweat. He raised his head and tried to find the archer who shot the arrow, and soon locked onto the small account of the Elf God.
There is no other reason. It is just that Corellon's behavior is incompatible with other orcs. The elegance and calmness that comes from his bones are something that orcs can never learn.
Ranger?
Sharpshooter? Magic Archer? Several professions that are good at using bows and arrows flashed through the orc warrior's mind.
However, Corellon obviously did not care about the enemy's reaction. He continued to draw his bow and shoot the second arrow at a leisurely pace.
Just like before, this arrow was also in a straight line, and at the last bit of distance before hitting the target, it suddenly turned and shot and killed an unlucky guy.
After two consecutive successes, not only the enemies outside the city wall were stunned, but even the friendly troops around showed expressions of disbelief.
In the eyes of the players, the talent and strength displayed by this newcomer are simply too outrageous.
In the eyes of the local natives, this represents an incomparable powerful talent, and is the kind of great person who is destined to be sung by bards and leave behind his own legend in the future.
However, Corellon ignored the interference from the outside world and just maintained the rhythm and shot the arrows one by one, feeling the magic and vitality absorbed by his body when the target died.
Similarly, he also understood why these Fourth Calamities were so keen on killing.
Because every time a life is killed, the psychic technology imprinted in the clone's body will complete a plunder.
The more you kill, the more powerful the character you control becomes.
When all the thirty arrows were shot, Corellon's level had been raised to real level LV3 and game level LV30.
More importantly, the clones he controlled did not feel any fatigue at all, as if every upgrade would strengthen and restore the body.
"Hey! Man! Where did you learn this archery skill?"
A ranger player with an animal companion couldn't help but come over and ask.
"Hehe, sorry, it's a secret."
Corellon gave a mysterious smile, changed his quiver, and then repeated the previous action.
"Tsk! Forget it if you don't want to talk about it."
The ranger player rolled his eyes in annoyance and turned around to continue shooting the enemies who rushed to the city wall.
Another guy who was obviously the leader of a small player team took the opportunity to come up and invite him: "Newcomer, are you interested in joining the Aurora Dance? We are willing to provide you with the best treatment and help you quickly catch up with everyone else's progress."
Corellon politely shook his head and declined, "No, thank you. I have no interest in joining any group."
This new guy in front of them was indifferent to the daily necessities of life and had the demeanor of a typical "lone wolf", so everyone else immediately gave up the idea of recruiting him.
Just as the Elf Lord was enjoying this upgrade game, Zuo Si's voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
"How is this game system I designed? Is it fun?"
Corellon responded without hesitation through the mental connection: "Not bad, especially the collective atmosphere is quite fascinating. Maybe I can consider building a similar system in a certain world so that the children of Arvandor can also enjoy the fun."
"This is not easy. Because in addition to psychic power, the most important key is the spark of the planeswalker. If the spark cannot be used to achieve a connection across planes or even across time and space, then signal transmission will become a huge problem."
Zuo Si pointed out the problem directly.
Because this fourth natural disaster system is not complicated in principle.
In particular, large-scale cloning of bodies is a piece of cake for a creature like God that can "create something out of nothing."
But it is not easy to maintain the stability of cross-dimensional and cross-time and space signals.
"Can you help me train an elven planeswalker?"
After a brief silence, Corellon made a request.
Zuo Si hesitated for a moment and quickly responded: “It is impossible to train an elven planeswalker.
Because planeswalkers are never cultivated, but are born with it.
Only those rare individuals who possess the spark at the moment of birth are qualified to ignite it and become a planeswalker.
But I can offer an alternative solution.”
"Oh? What is it?"
There was a hint of anticipation in Corellon's voice, and he was clearly very interested.
“My men recently developed something called the Cave Realm Tree.
It can directly cross the dark void and connect various time and space with the universe.
If you don't mind, I can send a branch of the cave tree deep into Arvandor.
Then extend another branch to the plane you need to connect.
That way, you can realize your ideas.”
Zuo Si gave his advice calmly.
Obviously, he was eyeing the powerful magical force of the elven kingdom of Avandor, intending to use it to spy on Corellon's true identity, whether it was as described in the rumors, a group of primordial magical energy in the universe that had become a spirit.
"Dongjing Tree? What is that?"
Corellon's tone was filled with intense curiosity.
Because this was the first time he heard that there was something other than the Planeswalker Spark that could travel through the Dark Eternity and achieve a cross-time and space connection.
Zuo Si patiently explained, "It was bred from the seeds of the Kaldheim World Tree and its oil. It's a little difficult to explain in detail, but as long as you allow its branches to enter, you will soon understand the mystery."
"Okay, I'll tell you the answer later after I discuss it with other elves and gods. Now, let me continue to enjoy this interesting game."
Corellon obviously had some reservations and did not agree immediately.
Zuo Si did not urge them and directly cut off the spiritual connection between the two. He stood above the city and looked down at the raging war on the ground.
To be precise, it was a clash between the Fourth Scourge and the followers of Gruumsh.
As siege vehicles, battering rams and ladders rushed through the dense firepower network and came close, the most brutal close combat finally began.
Since people were basically crowded in the narrow space such as the city walls and gates, there was not much room to move or dodge, so both sides fought head-on, exchanging injuries and lives.
In just less than half an hour, the city walls and the ground were dyed red with blood, and the corpses were piled up into small hills.
The pungent smell of blood could be smelled from several kilometers away.
As long as the number of deaths in the front reaches a certain level, the orc gods will immediately open a portal on the grassland behind to transport more cannon fodder.
The Fourth Scourge was equally unyielding, and when one died, he would simply resurrect as a new clone and pass through the portal again to continue fighting.
On one hand, it is "My followers are endless", and on the other hand, it is "No matter how many times I die, I can be resurrected immediately."
Such terrible mutual consumption is simply enough to make the local natives feel scalp tingling.
Perhaps at the beginning, the orcs led by Thrall would be deeply moved by seeing the players fighting bravely until the last moment, and they would fight to the death as if they were injected with chicken blood.
But they soon realized something was wrong.
It was clearly the guy who had just died, with his body still lying next to him, but suddenly another one who looked exactly the same appeared.
What's even more outrageous is that as time goes by, this phenomenon is no longer an isolated case but is being noticed by more and more people.
Some even died several times in one place, resulting in at least seven or eight identical bodies. Even the person himself felt a little creepy after seeing so many of them.
"Captain, there seems to be something wrong with those guys. They seem to be immortal."
The shaman who was treating the wounded gave a reminder with a twitching mouth.
"Oh, I know. Don't worry, they are on our side. Without their help, we would have collapsed long ago."
After saying that, Thrall raised the Hammer of Destruction in his hand to condense the power of the elements, then leaped into the sky.
Before anyone could react, the dark clouds above their heads began to flash dazzling lightning, and then roaring thunder swept across the earth.
In the blink of an eye, thousands of orc troops were reduced to ashes by the raging thunderstorm.
The powerful force that seemed like that of a god immediately caused cheers from everyone on the city wall.
The earliest group looked at the legendary chief as if he were a god, and even knelt down to pray to him devoutly.
With the power derived from faith, Thrall can sense that something is growing in his body. This is the divinity that countless ambitious people dream of.
Such an incredible effect can only be produced when mortal believers regard it as a real god.
Sarevok, the man behind the Baldur's Gate conspiracy, once tried to use this method to become the new god of slaughter.
However, the current level is obviously far from enough.
He needed to temper these orcs in war, allowing them to continuously strengthen their existing beliefs and determine their will, and ultimately unite into a new ethnic group.
After all, only blood and fire can forge the soul of a nation.
"Come on! Let this storm come even more violently! The great elements will help me complete my final transformation! I will put an end to the barbarism and chaos of the orcs in this universe! I will lead them on a completely opposite path."
Thrall whispered in a voice that only he could hear, while frantically releasing the power he gained from the elemental plane.
He was now like a beacon in a storm, a flag standing on the city wall, a bright star in the night sky, guiding the direction for all local natives.
As long as he is not fallen, the war will continue until the last man is dead.
Just when the entire continent of Faerun and even the God Realm were paying attention to this war, a figure in black armor covered with scars suddenly appeared in the sky on horseback and began to bestow blessings on both sides of the war.
Needless to say, the only one who could do such a thing is the God of War Tempus.
Obviously, this massive orc civil war attracted his attention.
Although the orcs have their own god of war, Inavril is also Gruumsh's lieutenant.
But Thrall's side has already broken away from the faith of the orc gods, so Tempus is fully qualified and has sufficient reasons to intervene.
However, his action obviously angered the other party, and a blood-stained broadsword appeared in the air.
But Tempus obviously did not take this opponent seriously. Instead, he rushed straight to Zuo Si, raised the wine jug with a big laugh and said, "Great! You have brought me another wonderful war. From the first time I saw you, I knew you were the messenger of war, and you would bring war wherever you go."
"You make it sound like I'm a cruel and bloodthirsty warmongerer. In fact, I'm a pacifist at heart and have no interest in war. It's always others who provoke me first, and I have no choice but to fight back passively."
Zuo Si defended himself by acting like a victim.
But anyone who hears these words will only sigh that he is worthy of being the Devil Prince valued by Asmodeus, who can lie with his eyes open without blushing.
"Pacifist? Hahahaha! Yes, yes, yes. Then I hope you can bring peace to more places."
After saying this, Tempus raised the wine jug and drank it all in one gulp, with naked and undisguised mockery appearing on his face.
For him, war is not only the source of his own strength, but also a kind of pleasure.
Zuo Si had launched countless wars in just a few years, and was more competent than any of the gods of war's elects or priests.
If he had not been explicitly rejected, Tempus would have wanted to bring him to his side and make him the chief elector.
There is no way, because all the tyrants, ambitious people, conspirators and warmongers in the entire continent of Faerun combined are not as capable as Zuo Si in causing trouble.
And each war is not a small-scale fight, but is enough to affect the situation and historical direction of the surrounding areas.
Thanks to these frequent and large-scale wars, Tempus's power and influence are constantly increasing, and he is about to replace the Dark Sun Cyric and take the top spot of powerful divine power.
So he was full of good feelings towards Zuo Si from beginning to end.
If there really was a war of gods against the orc pantheon, he would definitely come to help without hesitation.
"So you came all this way just to tease me?"
Zuo Si looked at the most powerful man among the gods in front of him and smiled helplessly.
Because he knew what the other person said was right.
Although his actions were not originally intended for war itself, the result was that wars were triggered one after another.
To some extent, no one in the world is more suitable to be the chosen one and messenger of the God of War than him.
Tempus shook his head vigorously and responded, "No, I just became very interested in this unique war.
Especially those little guys whom you call the fourth scourge, who are always exuding a frenzy for fighting and killing.
He is simply a natural born warrior and is lovable.
By the way, are you really not going to become my chosen one? Then we can join forces to launch a war that will sweep across the entire multiverse and conquer endless time and space."
"I'm sorry, but I have no interest in starting a war to conquer the entire multiverse. You'd better not think about it. Besides, some time and space are really not suitable for gods to enter."
Zuo Si bluntly rejected the war god's proposal.
What a joke! He is not a fool. He would work for Tempus for nothing and help it gain greater power by launching an unprecedented war.
What's more, the philosophy he believed in always regarded war as the ultimate means and would never easily put it into action.
Tempus sighed with regret. "Well, you can come to me anytime you figure it out. Also, if the orc pantheon gets tired of playing and wants to break the rules, I'll be happy to join your camp and teach them a lesson."
"Thank you very much. If that day comes, I will let you know."
Zuo Si politely placed his hand on his chest and bowed.
Tempus threw away the empty wine jug in his hand, then rode away on his beloved warhorse without any reluctance.
Because his personality is so straightforward, he likes those warriors who will start fighting directly when they disagree with something.
There is no doubt that the appearance of the God of War has made the already pessimistic situation of the Orc gods even worse, and they dare not even think of any crooked means.
Geumsh even quickly promoted several voters and sent them all over in an attempt to win by numbers.
But unfortunately, Thrall, who has begun to conceive divinity, is not a vegetarian.
He had long since established contact with the inner elemental planes through the Hammer of Destruction.
When facing a powerful Chosen One, directly summon the power of the four elements of fire, wind, water and earth to deal a devastating blow to the enemy.
You can even directly open a portal to summon elemental creatures at the level of lords and princes to help in the battle.
The open space outside the city gate was completely turned into a deep pit in the fierce battle.
After a few days, Dumbledore, Grindelwald and Van Swick finally arrived and joined the ranks of the defenders.
This meant that Geumsh's original plan to defeat the opponent in one fell swoop completely failed, and instead the most brutal tug-of-war began.
Before long, a slope was built from the city wall to the ground using the bodies of dead orcs.
Now, even without using any tools, we can rush directly to the city wall through this slope of corpses.
The only problem is that the corpse doesn't feel good to step on. It's easy to step on air and fall into it because of the rotting corpse below. The pungent stench, flies, and maggots are crawling everywhere, which can make any normal person vomit bile at just one look or smell.
In some places, the corpses have even mutated into undead or semi-undead creatures the size of mountains.
It can be predicted that in the next few years or even ten or twenty years, the land here will become extremely fertile.
But the interesting thing is that in such a harsh battlefield environment, no infectious diseases or plagues broke out on either side.
You don't need to ask to know that this is all thanks to Zuo Si and Talona.
Otherwise, the mountains of rotting corpses would have turned the surrounding area into a horrific biological and chemical testing site.
It is estimated that the reason why the orc gods have no intention of retreating is that they want to use a similar method to kill Thrall and his followers.
After all, the orcs also have a god of death and disease - Idros.
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