Chapter 740: The Wail of the Orcs (Asking for Monthly Tickets)

"I am envious..."

"Bow down before the great master!"

Upon the magical parchment, flattering words from mages across various lands quickly surfaced within the discussion group.

"Before, Blizzard kept bragging about how strong the 'World of Warcraft' mystic realm was, claiming they could learn some Holy Light Resurrection and fight on some 'battlefields'. Now, it seems not a single one of them dares to step onto the battlefield." The alchemy room remained somewhat cluttered and messy; the mage dressed in robes embroidered with star patterns lay back in his chair, checking the messages while concurrently dissing the players of "World of Warcraft".

At this moment, the master of the mystic realm workshop, Os, took the opportunity to post on the "Eye of the Mystic Realm" magical forum: "After training in the 'World of Warcraft' mystic realm for so long, may I ask if Blizzard players are finally qualified to join the war?"

"My goodness! Master Os has spoken in person!"

This instantly drew replies from a large crowd of active users.

"Looking up to the master!"

"Master Os spoke in person; we must call the forum pet, Tix, to come and take a look."

"What is a forum pet?"

"Brainlessly defending 'Blizzard Workshop' all day long, biting people everywhere like a dog—if that is not a forum pet, what is?"

"Hahahahaha..."

"Laughing my head off, is it a pet dog?"

"Those 'Origin Fighters' should also be called over to take a look," another person posted. "They brag about how powerful their alchemy is, they brag about how powerful their swordsmanship and spells are, as if everything originated from their place. Truly the origin of all things."

"Otherwise, why would it be called the 'Origin Network Club'?"

"None of the 'Origin Fighters' are even speaking anymore, hahaha!"

Below the posts, many more people sent "hahaha", resulting in a wave of mocking laughter.

At this time, as non-combatants, the two masters, Lei Wu and Os, were also watching this war, while simultaneously paying attention to the magical forum.

Posting a sentence in passing, Lei Wu joked: "They might be using their great resurrection spell in the rear to resurrect those orcs, so they have no time to pay attention to us 'mortals'."

The mocking laughter grew even louder.

...

"Has the magical forum been quite chaotic lately?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Even as a direct lineage of Saint Duran, Pibo rarely had the opportunity to enter this palace; he cautiously raised his eyes, but his gaze only dared to fall below the calves of the woman seated upon the crystal throne.

Beneath the hem of her skirt, a small section of a delicate, crystal-clear shoe tip was revealed.

"A small workshop from the Eastern Continent, boasting about some 'resurrection spell', but in the end, I suspect they cannot even step onto the battlefield," Pibo said hastily, while also glancing at the battlefield image displayed in the nearby spell projection.

Of course, it was not just here; in the assembly hall of the "Summit of Nations", which was also the highest place of counsel for all countries, projections fell one after another. Princess Isabella also cast her projection down, and everyone gathered to watch the war together.

Including the Elven race, the Dwarven race, and others, they were also invited to watch the war.

Naturally, this was also the best way to supervise the battle.

...

At this very moment, Boss Fang brought the internet cafe rescue team and arrived at the Orc Kingdom.

The scene before their eyes could no longer be described simply as "devastated"; it was like a living nightmare.

The corpses of some orcs lay scattered haphazardly on the ground, some still gripping their weapons tightly in their hands, refusing to let go even in death, while others were impaled by long spears and lances, like candied hawthorns on a stick, erected amidst the ruins.

Helen, born in an era of peace, and the elves, born in the serene and quiet forest, trembled as they looked at this shocking and gruesome sight; at this moment, they felt as if they were looking at hell.

At no other moment had they ever felt more deeply than now how terrifying it was, like a boundless darkness, devouring everyone present.

This was a true hell.

Perhaps they should do something, otherwise, this would also become the hell they were about to arrive at!

"First, search this area to see if there are any survivors! Everyone, move." The Grand Elder of the Elven race was clearly much more composed than them, though he also carried a bit of regret and heaviness. "We probably do not have the power to save everyone, so we had better hurry."

How great was the power to bring the dead back to life? If it were virtual, it would be fine, but reality was not like a game where you could just pull someone up.

Consumption, faith, mental energy, and all other aspects—this was by no means a spell that could be cast easily.

And if the corpses had already rotted or were eaten by wild beasts until only bones remained, the resurrection spell would likely be powerless to change anything.

At least, the resurrection spells of these beginners could absolutely not achieve that.

...

And at this very moment, in another part of the Orc Kingdom.

That was a small valley known as the Emerald Valley.

Outside the valley, countless corpses of orcs lay scattered haphazardly; they wore heavy armor, and upon the armor was the emblem of a roaring fire lion, which was the armor of the Kingdom's Roar Legion of the Orc Kingdom.

The darkness spread like a black carpet; outside the valley filled with corpses, an orc raised his hand from the pile of bodies, seemingly still struggling and wanting to climb up, before being enveloped and corroded within this spreading darkness, subsequently turning to ash.

The Orc Kingdom was a prosperous and powerful nation, and the king among them was a peak existence among the Saint tier; yet at this moment, only that wounded old orc was roaring, being forcefully dragged backward amidst the pulling of his legion.

Immediately following, countless terrifying dark shadows, swift as lightning, surged forward like a torrent.

"Blade—Storm!" A figure that was not particularly tall charged up frantically, his gums nearly bleeding from biting down so hard.

"Mr. De!" A werewolf general, who was pulling the old orc clad in royal robes backward, let out a hoarse roar.

Although merely a ranger, Mr. De was arguably the most popular figure among both the high-level orc nobility and the commoners, a national treasure-level figure of the Orc Kingdom.

To be so popular among the orcs, who revered strength, was not merely because he frequently opened spell projections for live broadcasts.

With a furious roar, his entire figure crashed into that terrifying tide like a cannonball.

Countless sharp blades rotated around his body; those terrifying blades instantly seemed to turn his entire person into a horrific meat grinder. Even these elite warriors of the shadow legion, who had experienced countless battles and slaughters, fell in large numbers at this moment like wheat being harvested.

The two-handed greatsword, like a storm, chopped down frantically into the crowd; figure after figure collapsed, and on the entire battlefield, everyone seemed to experience palpitations upon seeing that frenzied shadow of the sword.

"Retreat with the King!"

"Swish, swish!" Accompanied by the sound of sharp winds, several sharp spears pierced through the darkness, arriving through the air like a streak of deathly lightning, cutting through the void!

He let out a furious roar, his sword splitting open two sharp spears in an instant like a phantom, but immediately after, the third one pinned directly through his entire chest.

At the same time, a dark and ominous aura, like a pitch-black hand, materialized out of thin air, tightly choking his neck and lifting his entire body up.

"Mr. De!" A roar delivered with gritted teeth echoed. "Demon Spirit... Thrall."

"I have seen many orcs like you." A deep voice came from nowhere. "They are like fools, always attempting to block us with their meager, weak strength, while loudly shouting something about 'For the Horde'? Truly laughably stupid!"

"I despise such ignorant fellows the most. Do they not know what fear is?!" That palm slammed Mr. De violently against the hard mountain wall, instantly shattering a large area of mountain rocks; the voice was distorted and morbid. "Why not run away?! Wouldn't it be better to break down and flee in panic like the others?!"

"For people like this, I always impale them on long spears, turning them into human pillars. Do you know, by relying on their will, they usually do not die immediately, but have to wail for a very long time..."

"Aooowww—!" Inside the Emerald Valley, a shrill and miserable long howl resounded through the entire valley!