Lord Roar

Chapter 365

The sound of killing on the front line was loud, but Allen, who was watching the battle behind Beamon, kept cursing on the spot, mainly because of anger.

Originally, he didn't have the leisure time to bring his soldiers to participate in this battle, because even if all the non-combatants were added together in the Bloodhoof tribe, there were still less than 1000 people.

It is simply a fantasy for less than a thousand people to control a large-scale battle of tens of thousands of people. No matter how sophisticated their equipment is, they cannot make up for the huge gap in numbers.

Just now he mobilized almost all the second-line personnel of the Bloodhoof Tribe, ran out through the teleportation circle and started to grab the baggage of the Beamon orcs.

Unexpectedly, after tossing for a long time, he returned to the camp through the teleportation array, and almost died of anger.

What musty-smelling tattered tents, marching rations harder than rocks, skinny saros and ponies, rusty iron weapons, damp arrows, and so on.

Moreover, there was a strange smell in the open space of the camp, and even the little guy Tutu walked around with a look of disgust.

Allen really couldn't figure it out, the Beamon Beastmen were so poor, and they wanted to invade the Great Wasteland to counterattack the hinterland of the human race every day, how much experience the Beamon Beast Emperor had.

If you have such a fucking mind, it is better to let 30 pioneers go home to farm than come to the Great Wasteland to fight the Holy See.

Allen, who returned to the battlefield, directly asked all the giants not to toss back and forth. After transporting them for a long time, they moved a lot of junk.

Allen, who was full of anger, thought about it, fuck you. Damn, I won’t snatch these rags and luggage. Your mother can burn them all. I don’t want you and I don’t want you.

Thinking of it, Allen waved his hand, the giants retreated to the teleportation circle, and De Niro led a group of dwarfs and started throwing Molotov cocktails. After a while, a raging fire ignited behind Beamon.

At this time, it was almost evening on the Great Wasteland, and the flames soaring into the sky lit up half of the sky, which also attracted everyone's attention.

The soldiers of the Holy See were dumbfounded, and so were the Bimons.

Simba almost spit out a mouthful of old blood, what kind of beast is this capable of doing such a thing.

If you say you don’t want it, then don’t, what the fuck is it if you burn it all for me?
It's like a gang of thieves came into your house to steal things, but in the end they didn't like the little things in your house, and burned them all for you before they left.

At this time, the Beamon soldiers' morale and fighting spirit, which had finally recovered, dropped to freezing point again.

Allen, whose family has been greeted countless times by hundreds of thousands of Beamon, looked up to the sky with a proud face and laughed wildly: "Oh, you dare to come out to invade when you are so poor, you bastards are so mad, you dare to run to the Great Wasteland with two pieces of dry food Play empty-handed white wolf with me, rely on your mother, blind your dog's eyes."

Hatchas, who was watching the battle, slipped the binoculars from his hand and fell to the ground without a sound. He suddenly felt sorry for the hundreds of thousands of Beamon orcs.

In the wilderness, there were four seasons of strong winds, and Rooney, a guy who was afraid of chaos in the world, used wood magic to fuel the fire, and thousands of carriages of supplies ignited a raging fire.

Seeing that the fire could no longer be extinguished, Allen ordered all personnel to retreat, leaving only 25 steel golems.

There was a very brief moment of calm on the battlefield.

The soldiers of the Holy See looked at the soaring flames, and all the Beamon fighters fighting on the front line also turned their heads to look at the raging fire behind them.

The Beamon orcs were originally an irritable race, without the shroud of the sober aura of the priests, and seeing the bloodhoof tribe burning their luggage unscrupulously, many of the main battle races, the Beamon orcs, had begun to go berserk on their own, with blood red eyes.

Even those low-level Bimon orcs are on the verge of madness.

After the calm, those high-level orcs and main battle races who had gone berserk began to run to the rear with their beards and hair stretched. They really couldn't stand such a shame.

The wolf cavalry, including those close to the rear and flanks, also turned around and rushed towards the 25 steel golems, cursing loudly.

A very strange situation permeated the entire battlefield.

The largest number of piggies saw the bear officers around them turn around and attack the rear in confusion. No matter how much the Harpy herald in mid-air persuaded them, it was of no avail. They didn't know whether to continue to rush forward or go back to rescue the baggage.

Ordinary wolf warriors saw the fang wolf cavalry urging the wolves to rush towards the 25 steel golems, their eyes were full of confusion, and they didn't know what to do.

Chaos, the entire battlefield is in chaos.

No matter what the orc overseers and heralds tried to dissuade, more and more orc warriors fighting on the front line were angry.

They were angry at the despicability of the Bloodhoof tribe, they were angry at the bullying of the Bloodhoof tribe, they had too many reasons to be angry.

I thought I was walking on the wilderness unimpeded, but was played by several elemental users like walking a dog.

Originally, because the opponent would only use these indiscriminate means, the ambushes again and again made them dizzy and suffered heavy losses.

When they thought they could finally fight the soldiers of the Holy See head-on, the army lost contact with the supply troops.

The most exasperating thing is that the enemy, seeing that they had robbed not so many supplies, actually set them all on fire.

Standing under the steel golem, Allen saw more and more Beamon orcs yelling and killing, turning around and rushing over. After digging out their ears, he removed the necklace of different space storage around his neck.

After a piece of elemental light flashed, the Iron Golem disappeared out of thin air, leaving Alan alone in place.

After raising a middle finger, Allen turned around and walked slowly towards the teleportation circle with his hands behind his back.

Seeing that this despicable, shameless, and nasty guy was about to run away, a wolf cavalry commander pulled out a dagger and stabbed it hard in the ass of his mount, speeding up the running speed of the wolf under the crotch.

The war wolf ran wildly under the pain.
It was getting closer, getting closer, looking at that arrogant back, the wolf cavalry commander's eyes were open, he raised his machete and roared incessantly.

Allen ignored him, and just kept his head down and walked forward.

It's a pity that it was only less than half a meter away, only less than half a meter away, and the gleaming scimitar was only half a meter away from Alan's back.

Allen's whole body has been drilled into the portal.

The wolf cavalry commander jumped off the giant wolf, squatted on the ground and cried, half a meter, only half a meter, even if he was just a little faster, he could have cut this despicable guy under the knife.

More and more wolf cavalry surrounded the front of the teleportation circle, with unwilling faces.

A liger and tiger guard looked at the commander of the wolf cavalry with pity. Perhaps this incident just now will become the biggest regret in the other party's life.

Many soldiers wanted to rush into the teleportation circle, but were finally stopped by a group of ligers and tiger guards. They knew that once they entered the teleportation circle, what awaited them would be a dense rain of arrows.

Seeing that the teleportation circle was about to close, a thick arm stretched out suddenly, grabbed the wolf cavalry commander who was squatting on the ground, and was grabbed into the portal.

With just one breath, the wolf cavalry commander flew out again, his head was twisted into a strange shape, and he could not rest in peace.

As a result, the portal that was closed immediately lit up again, and it seemed that the other party had activated the teleportation circle again.

They thought that the enemy would rush out, even those barbarian warriors armed to the teeth, even those irresistible steel golems, even those extremely powerful giants.

As long as there are enemies, they need to find an outlet and a chance to vent.

They want to cut people, or be chopped.

Although I know the chances of being cut are relatively high.

It's a pity that Allen still disappointed them. What came out of the teleportation circle was not a person, but a thing.

It was the orc supplies that the giants carried back to the Horde.

Carriages of supplies that helped burn the bottles were thrown out of the teleportation circle, as if they were throwing garbage.

The orc warriors stared wide-eyed.

Happiness came too suddenly.

Although they didn't understand why the other party had changed their minds, at least they had settled down for dinner at night.

It's a pity that reality disappointed them again.

Allen poked his head out with a torch and cursed: "Damn it, you are so fucking poor and dare to come out and run around, wasting my time."

After cursing, Allen threw the torch out, and retracted his body to the portal.

In the next second, the flames burned. The bottle exploded without any accident, one piece after another.

The orc warriors surrounding the entrance of the teleportation circle were covered in fire and howled endlessly. They no longer cared about rescuing the burning luggage, and fell to the ground and rolled around trying to extinguish the flames on their bodies.

It's a pity to burn. The high concentration of alcohol in the bottle has too strong adhesion and sputtering force.

The rear baggage of the Beamon orcs ushered in the second baptism of the Vulcan Cassus.

On the other side of the closed teleportation circle, Allen stood in the open space of the camp and cursed.

The giants are okay, De Niro and a group of dwarves not only have to endure a strange smell around them, but also get sprayed on the head by Allen.

"You idiots, you just grab those crap things, and now there's a weird smell in the camp, what a fucking waste of my time and those teleportation crystals."

Samson blinked innocently, didn't the boss let us grab it just now?

De Niro is also quite innocent. It had nothing to do with him, but he came to watch the fun and was sprayed.

Clios squatted down, and said with a bitter expression: "Boss, we didn't expect these Beamon orcs to be so poor. We just took the time to grab it, and didn't look carefully at what's inside."

Samson nodded in agreement.

No one expected that the 30 Beamon Vanguard Army would come out to fight with such a large pile of junk.

Dry rations are moldy, marching tents are leaky, ironware is rusty, and arrows are woody and damp.

In the thousands of carriages, there is not a single thing that is eye-catching.

Moreover, the Beamon orcs are very economical. They use dwarf horse-drawn carts, and they use piggies to pull carts.

The only few hundred saros and ponies that are going to be raised for meat are still skinny and skinny. It is estimated that if the Bloodhoof tribe wants to slaughter them for meat, they will have to raise them for at least another year or a half. I don't have any fat on my body.

Allen, with a gloomy face, called Old Duff and asked him to start cleaning the ground with water magic. The smell was really unpleasant.

At this time, Simba, who was constantly giving orders in the former army, was getting more and more bitter.

Pig warriors do not have the halo blessing of sacrifice, and it is almost difficult to fight against an ordinary human infantry.

The wolf cavalry wandered around and were constantly suppressed by the Holy See archers.

The wolf infantry fell into a bitter battle again, and the opponent's magician was throwing magic like a chicken blood, and there was no priest to block the opponent's spell.

The few lion and tiger guards were entangled by the opponent's vindictive fighters again.

After just a short period of chaos, those main battle races who had become mad on their own completely disrupted their own offensive rhythm, and those who cheated their teammates were all superb.

And I don't know what's going on in the rear, but the fire that had just shrunk a little bit started to burn again.

A harpy whose face was smudged black landed next to Simba, and said with a constipated face: "Report, the rear baggage was snatched by those bandits and thrown out again."

"What?" Simba's eyes widened.

"And then . . . then it all burned again."

Simba didn't react, and his mind became a little dazed.

He had already prepared the worst plan for the loss of all the supplies, but he was still curious about what the other party was doing so extravagantly.

The harpy's analysis was very accurate, and he hesitated to speak for a long time before he said: "I guess, the other party probably didn't like our supplies and thought they were taking up space, so they threw them out and burned them all."

Simba's wounded heart was finally unable to bear the blow, his eyes almost fell, and he sat on the elephant's head and began to gasp for breath.

(End of this chapter)