Azeroth Monster Manual

PS: 215 has been revised, the last three chapters haven't had time yet, will continue to pay off debts tomorrow… …

Just as the Frostmane trolls were invading in full force, the originally tranquil farmland became wrinkled like a crumpled canvas, until a faint blue arcane aura flashed, and everything changed.

In the dim moonlight, three rows of well-equipped dwarf riflemen were arranged in echelon in front of the field ridges, while on their flanks, heavily armored infantry were poised, waiting to charge.

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Bartok instinctively wanted to shout, but it was too late.

“3!

2!

1!

First row, volley fire!”

As the signalman's voice sounded, the first row of riflemen had already crouched down the moment the countdown began. When the signalman uttered the last number, a neat and uniform roar instantly rang out.

Bartok watched with bloodshot eyes as several guards beside him fell, unable to dodge, and let out an angry roar. But before he could react, the dwarf signalman's voice rang out once again.

“Second row, prepare!

3!

2!

1!

Second row, volley fire!”

The riflemen in the first row, after firing, immediately retreated upon receiving the signal, standing in the last row, and began calibrating their weapons and reloading ammunition. Meanwhile, the riflemen who were originally standing in the second row crouched down and began to fire.

Then came the third row, and so on, repeating the cycle. Such a close distance was even more advantageous for the exceptionally elite Khaz Modan riflemen. Facing the blue tide at close range, they didn't need to aim at all. They only needed to reload ammunition and pull the trigger, and wave after wave of trolls would die.

The three rows of riflemen maintained a steady and rapid pace, shooting and killing the charging Frostmane trolls, but as time passed, the riflemen's weaknesses also became apparent.

Their numbers and ammunition were insufficient to sustain them in this large-scale battlefield with over 80,000 people.

Bartok roared and threw out two throwing axes, accurately killing two riflemen who were still reloading ammunition. Looking at the field ridges within reach, the berserker revealed a crazy smile.

… …

“Commander!”

Muradin looked at the approaching blue tide and couldn't help but feel a little anxious.

“Too close.”

Aier stood leisurely at the rear of the formation, watching the battle in the field.

“But those trash are less than fifty meters away from us!”

Brann lowered the telescope in his hand and shrieked exaggeratedly at Aier. But the young man didn't seem to hear it, and actually closed his eyes, letting the two Bronzebeard princes complain anxiously beside him.

More than ten seconds later, Aier suddenly opened his eyes and let out a clear shout.

“Riflemen retreat, first group of heavy infantry, raise shields! Stone Skin!”

Under the effect of amplification magic, Aier's voice clearly reached everyone's ears, even the approaching Frostmane trolls could hear it clearly.

Just as the trolls were wondering what the specific effect of this order was, the heavy infantry who were originally standing on the flanks had already raised their shields and activated Stone Skin. But strangely, the riflemen who were just shooting had disappeared, leaving a vacant area that could enter the farm.

At this time, Bartok had no time to care about anything else. Facing the heavy infantry who raised their shields to defend, he raised the battle axe in his hand and delivered a fatal blow with great force, but unfortunately, only a deep mark was left on the heavy infantry's shield, and the heavy infantry behind the shield remained motionless.

A dark, ink-like color shone on the bodies of all the dwarf soldiers. That was the color of rock, and even more so, the dwarves' bloodline talent - Stoneform.

【Stoneform】: During the duration of Stoneform, you will be immune to all bleeding and poisoning effects. You will become a moving statue, increasing armor and reducing movement speed. Note: After the time ends, all damage received will be returned to the flesh and blood body.

Stoneform is also jokingly called Stone Skin by the dwarves. It is a secondary form of 【Avatar】. Unlike Avatar, Stoneform has lower requirements for the dwarves' own qualities and bloodline. This has led to the fact that as long as they are adult dwarves, they can basically activate this ability in their bloodline.

But the dwarves rarely use this bloodline talent. The reason is nothing else. After transforming into Stoneform, although the defense power is greatly improved, the drawbacks are also extremely obvious. After transforming into Stoneform, the dwarves' own speed (not only movement speed, here it refers to speed in all aspects) will be greatly reduced, and some individuals with poor talent may even be unable to move.

No one wants to be a target, and the martial dwarves would never do that.

… …

Bartok angrily pulled his long-handled battle axe back from the dwarf infantry's shield. He roared unwillingly, but it was of no avail.

The rest of the Frostmane trolls were even more不堪. The 'weapons' in their hands could not even leave any marks on the dwarf infantry's shields. In this way, when more and more trolls found that their attacks could not work, they naturally set their sights on the vacant area leading to the farm left by the riflemen's departure.

A ragged Frostmane 'warrior' stood blankly in place, his wooden stick had already shattered when attacking the dwarf infantry. At this time, he was staring blankly at the dark farmland illuminated by the moonlight, looking at the vaguely visible vegetables and fruits.

The bursts of pain coming from his stomach awakened him. Wiping away the drool dripping from his fangs, he couldn't help but run towards the only vacant area leading to the farm.

Reason had long since gone away. At this moment, the only two words swirling in his mind were food.

“Bastard! What are you doing!”

As soon as the berserker turned his head, he saw the Frostmane soldiers running towards the farm. He wanted to reprimand them, but found that the soldiers who were originally concentrated around him were like demons, shouting words like food, and following the 'deserter' to the farm.

“Come back! Come back to me!”

Bartok instinctively felt that something was wrong. The deployment of these dwarves was too strange.

Apart from the riflemen who had already 'escaped', there were only a few thousand heavy infantry blocking them. Moreover, these thousands of heavy infantry were so well-equipped but had no intention of attacking them, but instead blocked in front of them like stinky stones.

If all of this was okay, it could be understood that the dwarves only had so many troops to resist stubbornly, waiting for support, but these infantry actually left a vacant area in the middle of the battle formation leading to the farm, which was a bit unreasonable.

As the second-in-command of the tribe, Bartok naturally had a mind far superior to his tribesmen. Looking at all of this in front of him, he naturally understood that this was a trap set by the enemy.

If anyone knows the Bronzebeard dwarves best, it would naturally be their old rivals, the Frostmane trolls. Through centuries of constant conflict and friction, both sides have figured out each other's weaknesses.

And the dwarves' stone-like formation was naturally understood clearly by the Frostmane trolls. Thus, Bartok prepared to meet the unchanging with change, deciding to devour these thousands of motionless 'iron turtles' before considering anything else.

Bartok believed he could control his tribe and army well. But he overlooked one thing.

Cold, fatigue, and mental stress were nothing, but hunger was something even the toughest man couldn't endure. Coupled with the arduous trek overnight, the trolls' energy had long been exhausted. Under this double torment, even the bloodthirsty and warlike Frostmane trolls were almost reduced to weaklings.

At this moment, Bartok desperately needed a victory, a victory that could make his soldiers forget hunger and fatigue.

But the thousands of 'iron turtles' 'blocking' their path shattered Bartok's dream, and the soldiers rushing towards the farm were the last chip in burying the Frostmane tribe.

…

On the other side, looking at the Frostmane trolls pouring into the farm, a hint of joy finally appeared on the young man's slightly tired face.

"One effort brings vigor, a second causes decline, and a third exhausts. The ancients were right."

Saying something that confused everyone, Ayr returned the telescope in his hand to Brian.

"Second and third heavy infantry groups, listen to my command!"

The young man's roar startled the Frostmane trolls who were frantically looting the crops. Before they could react, Ayr's voice rang out again.

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"Charge!"

As Ayr's words fell, shouts erupted from both sides of the dark farm. Under the moonlight, the gleaming armor and orderly ranks of the dwarven heavy infantry charged from both sides of the farm.

With the advance of the dwarven infantry on both sides and the unwavering

"Romans, Kyle, you can stop the illusion now. Everyone, follow me and kill these blue-skinned bastards!"

As he spoke, Ayr took the lead and flew towards the center of the farm, followed closely by the Hemet and Muradin brothers, who were already eager to fight.

The two archmages exchanged a glance and simultaneously ended the illusion's power supply, flashing into the battlefield.

Behind the legendary combat powers were the dwarven riflemen who had finished their repairs and the city defense army stragglers who had just arrived and only rested for a moment.

Although the overall quality of this city defense army was poor and the number was small, their pressure was the least, all because the Master Ayr, who was famous in the Eastern Kingdoms, was at the front.

…

The dwarves' shouts of killing, the Frostmane trolls' pleas for mercy and angry curses, and the occasional flashes of magical light, with the three archmages joining forces and the encirclement of 30,000 troops, even if the trolls had a numerical advantage, they could not change the desperate situation they were facing.

Watching his tribesmen and soldiers fall screaming, Bartok felt his heart bleeding. A dim light flickered in his bloodshot eyes. He knew that this battle, or rather, massacre, was more appropriate.

After this failed raid, the Frostmane clan of Khaz Modan might really be destroyed in his hands.

"Warlord, let's go!"

A burly Frostmane guard tried to drag Bartok away but was pushed away by the berserker. Just as Bartok was about to fight to the death, a group of guards dragged him back.

"Warlord! It's too late if we don't leave!"

Seeing more and more people rushing towards him, the flame of hope that had been extinguished was ignited again. He stomped his foot fiercely, spat out a mouthful of blood-stained saliva, and roared loudly:

"Go!"

…

Ayr watched the last Frostmane troll whose head was blown apart by a rifle and extinguished the azure flame in his hand.

"Clean up the battlefield, count the casualties, and collect the bodies of our comrades."

After giving such an order, Ayr walked alone towards the outskirts of the farm.

"Lord Ayr."

Hemet wrung the blood from his beard, laughed loudly, and came to Ayr's side. He was about to brag about how brave he had been just now when he was interrupted by the young man's gesture.

"Shhh!"

The young man twitched his nose and headed in one direction. Hemet, suddenly realizing what was happening, hurriedly followed in his footsteps.

[Super Senses] A skill that was almost forgotten, Ayr finally used it again on this day, not for anything else, but to track down the troll leader who had just escaped.

The heavy smell of blood made Ayr frown. It wasn't until he was far away from the battlefield that the pungent smell dissipated slightly.

Sniffing the remaining bloody smell and the Frostmane trolls' unique sweaty odor in the air, Ayr and Hemet followed a hidden path.

Without mentioning whether Ayr and the old dwarf's tracking was smooth, the gryphon squad originally responsible for scouting the Gor'lok Quarry noticed some clues under the leadership of Kurdran.

Two hours ago, just before the two sides broke out into war, Kurdran had ridden Skyre over the Gor'lok Quarry several times.

In order to better complete the order issued by Ayr, Kurdran divided his fifteen gryphon knights into three groups, with five people in each group taking turns to be responsible for the detection of the Gor'lok mine.

Kurdran rode Skyre alone towards the surrounding mountains.

Although Kurdran's political awareness and grasp of the overall situation were not as talented as Falstad, it must be mentioned that Kurdran, who had been wandering in war for many years, had developed excellent military skills and a keen sense of war.

In his opinion, those Frostmane trolls could not have appeared out of thin air. The reason why they were able to cross mountains and ridges to reach the Frostmane Ridge (pass), which was known as the copper wall and iron wall, must have been a hidden path.

In this way, one person and one gryphon flew along the edge of the mountain range.

Long-term high-load flight made Skyre a little overwhelmed, but it still gritted its teeth and persisted, because this psychic gryphon understood the situation of its master at this time.

Kurdran stroked its head distressedly and kept apologizing in a low voice.

At this moment, a biting cold wind blew, making Skyre 'stagger'. Kurdran was shivering from the cold. Just as he was about to untie the cloak on his back and put it on Skyre, a flash of lightning suddenly lit up in his heart.

"Frostmane Ridge is a basin structure, how could the cold current blow out from the middle of the mountain range, unless…"

Thinking of this, Kurdran whistled excitedly, and Skyre instantly understood the meaning of its master, and just made a spin and flew towards the mountain range it had just passed.