Stormwind God

Everyone at the scene knew the weight of the chief's head in Lothar's hands.

If King Lane was hit in the capital in this way, and ran to the town of Nanhai dimly, no matter how many soldiers he saved and how many nationals he protected, he was still a dead man in front of the other six kingdom kings. Jun.

This great disgrace will accompany Ryan throughout his life, and may even harm the young Varian.

Even if Ryan in "History" was assassinated and killed, he is still the defender of the country and a hero in the people's hearts. Even if Lothar takes Varian around and winks his eyes, no one will say Ryan's death. thing.

In this lifetime, Ryan survived Duke's efforts. Since Duke saved Ryan from the assassination of Garona, he would not let Ryan fight to his death to defend Stormwind. When Ryan died, Stormwind had no backbone.

Things are completely different now.

The chief's head, and the tribal chief's battle flag that Lothar let the guards pick up easily proves that Ryan has been defeated!

The battle flag, full of large beast teeth ornaments, was different at a glance.

Even if you lose, even if you lose the king city, every storm countryman can still stand out and say to anyone ‘Our great hero Lothar cut off the tribal chief ’s head’.

However, everything is dominated by Duke.

Without Duke's Orc Link, no one would have thought that it would be possible to seduce the chieftain in this way.

Even the most discerning person can only give Duke a thumbs up.

Lothar is indeed a hero, and he can still kill the Warchief Black Hand with such a huge speed difference. Everyone knows that Duke is the real hero.

"Head to me." Duke beckoned.

Lothar threw the black hand's head to Duke as he ran.

"Chill out!" Duke beckoned, and the extremely cold atmosphere instantly surrounded the chieftain's head spinning in the air. The next moment, the mage's hand had caught the first level of the black hand frozen in fully transparent ice.

Carrying such a heavy task from the enemy leader and the first level naturally has the following guards to do it.

"You go first with the first rank and the battle flag. I take the first team off." Lothar did not relax his vigilance, put on a shield, and led the troops to retreat cautiously after the break. In fact, Lothar was also worried. The orcs had long been grouped together, and no orcs had the time to care about these neatly retreating humans.

At the dock, General Tom Simox was anxious. When he saw Ryan's battle flag and royal guards appearing at the gate on the other side of Storm Harbor, he quickly led the army to meet him.

"Your Majesty, your safety is more important than anything." General Simos burst into tears with excitement.

"Ai Qing has worked hard. Now, there are only the last two steps left." Ryan, with his golden helmet and armor, stared at the guard team that was carrying the chief of the chieftain behind and carrying the tribal battle flag, with clear eyes. excitement.

Cut handsome to capture the flag!

Without Duke, I'm afraid I will die here?

Ryan's chest was full of infinite gratitude to Duke. Think of the nobles who had fled with their property when the calamity was imminent. In Ryan's mind, Duke's name has become sacred.

Over there, Duke finally launched the backhand when the post-break troops led by Lothar almost withdrew from Church Square.

"Ambro * Liza * Magalufs ..." It was a long spell, and with the sound of Duke's sound, Lothar clearly felt that something was changing in the air.

Numerous mysterious magic runes appeared from Duke's feet, rippling like ripples, spreading in all directions.

Watching Duke stop chanting and the magic wave around him calmed down, Lothar couldn't help asking: "What did you do? If you want to burn Stormwind, don't you need such an exaggerated magic array?"

Duke smiled mysteriously: "You will know immediately."

At the same time, everyone in the Blackrock clan who was fighting each other was shocked.

This is like when a mouse is about to run when a catastrophe is imminent, it is purely animal instinct.

At this moment, in all the blocks of Stormwind City, every orc, no matter what they were doing, forcibly interrupted their actions. The ground under their feet came with a terrifying horror.

Once in the largest church in Stormwind, accompanied by the bell, every night in the prayer hall echoed the evening prayers of the priests.

As Stormwind was attacked, the bell of the evening prayer had not sounded for a long time. Every priest is using the divine healing technique to heal the wounded and use their kind voice to soothe every disturbed soul.

However, for every minute, the church bell that has not been ringing in the night for a long time

Three short! Three long! It's three short again!

This is the agreed signal!

Those who had already given up their hope of escape, and dared to die, knew that they would die, and acted quickly. They may be crawling out of the abandoned little attic, or the unobtrusive closet, or the hidden basement, dragging their broken bodies.

Ignite the torch with a flint stone and drop it on each of the prepared lighters.

It's either a woodpile that has been poured with oil, or a pile of whale fat in the corner, or a utility room full of dry straw.

More importantly, in the hot summer, the brick-wood houses and the large amount of flammables already prepared make it easy to set fire.

More than a thousand fires have been set aside in all important and non-important facilities of storage banks, exchanges, houses, shops, aristocratic mansions, various government agencies, hotels.

At first, the orcs who had already dispersed did not care about the fire.

Burning and plundering is absolutely commonplace in any large city that has been captured. A few years ago, when the orcs captured Shattrath City, they did the same with the Draenei cities.

And the orcs don't catch cold at human houses at all, they prefer their own tents.

Not to mention the fire-fighting consciousness, the orcs didn't even have the idea to run out and take a look.

But soon they found themselves wrong.

The fire was out of control. A fear that had only recently been experienced came to mind again. They suddenly remembered the scene where Duke burned half of the tribal camp alone.

The blazing fire called the flames of **** caused the orcs to die in despair. They started running out in an attempt to extinguish the fire by various means, but it was too late and the fire had spread unbridled.

One block after another was easily devoured by the blazing fire. In the narrow streets, they could not find a place to hide from the fire field, and they could only run into a wide square or jump into the moat spreading throughout the storm city. Watching in horror, pillars of fire rising into the sky. (To be continued.)