Since they haven't made up their minds to fight to the death with each other, for a while, the two sides facing each other across the barricades have fallen into the infinite loop of "you move me to try" and "I move you to do something".
The humans did not dare to take the lead, and some ogres who couldn't figure out the details of the other party did not think about starting a war immediately, and the situation was so deadlocked, until the Duke of Facurrest hurriedly ran from the direction of the main castle.
"Ocalar, what the hell is going on?"
Before he could reach him, the Duke shouted angrily.
In fact, he had already learned the ins and outs of the whole thing from the lieutenant's mouth, but he still asked the other party aggressively to take advantage of the momentum.
The soldiers on both sides finally stopped, and they made way to the sides so that the Duke and Ocalar could walk to the front of the group, and then stood silently, waiting for the leaders to negotiate a result, whether to settle the matter or to fight.
"Hey, it's your guys who came and killed Mullock!"
The ogre leader explained aggrievedly that in the face of the boss, the natural psychological disadvantage of the hired person made him can't help but be a head shorter in momentum, although the height of the human was less than his chest.
"Let your people go back first, and the two of us will talk about it!"
The Duke said in a commanding tone, just as he had done with Ocalar before.
The ogre hesitated, he couldn't really go to war with the Syndicate, but Mullock couldn't die in vain, maybe Duke Facurrest was right, negotiation was the right way to solve the problem.
If things had gone on this way, the incident would have calmed down, but life is always like this, and reality is often more dramatic than drama.
On the human side of the barricade, a musketeer raised his right hand, made a strange gesture above his helmet, and quietly raised his dwarven musket.
Except for those with ulterior motives hidden in the shadows, no one noticed his movements, because everyone was staring at the heads of both sides who were negotiating.
Throughout the North, dwarven muskets are not uncommon in the hands of other races, and for a goblin smuggler who is not afraid to die for money, as long as he gives money, he can even get you dwarven artillery, not to mention small dwarven muskets.
"Alright, I'll let my people ......," Ocalar said reluctantly, Murlock couldn't die in vain, he had already made up his mind in his heart to get enough price from the humans.
But his thoughts, along with what he was about to say, were interrupted by a sudden gunshot!
He only felt a chill in his chest, and then the endless pain overwhelmed his nerves, he lowered his head in surprise, and looked at his left chest, where the original heart was, there was a fist-sized front and back transparent hole, and the blood that should have been pumped back to the heart sprayed in the hole, and then gurgled down.
Ocalal stared blankly at the blood, then dipped his finger in a little and looked at it, and after a few seconds, he let out a soft "oh" and fell to the ground with a pop.
The ogre's already massive body became even bigger after it fell, almost blocking half of the avenue.
He's dead.
A crisp and crisp death.
Everyone, whether human or ogre, froze all at once.
They all looked stupidly at the human musketeer, at the smoke rising from the muzzle of his gun.
"I said I accidentally went off the rails, do you believe it?"
The young musketeer looked innocently at the people around him, and explained weakly.
"Hell I believe it!"
Everyone shouted in their hearts.
No one wondered who fired the shot, no one looked into how this human musket could be so powerful, and the still smoking muzzle was more convincing than any evidence.
Even his companions looked at him with surprised eyes, and everyone had a "what a great job I can say" on their faces.
"Hey, man, you're from that company?
You're fierce!
A companion whispered in admiration beside him.
He wanted to do that, too, but lacked the courage to put his ideas into action.
At the very back of the ogre, Shaman Ruhl?
The boulder looked at the fallen Ocalar in horror, unable to suppress the fear in his heart, and he finally realized that the meeting with the Night Elf last night was not a nightmare.
He swallowed hard, and there was a burning pain from the abrasion in his esophagus when he swallowed the damn seed.
He shuddered at the terrible sight of the druid showing him a seed quickly growing into a tree.
He knew it was time to put on a show!
"They killed Ocalal!
They killed O'Calar!
A woman-like scream burst out of his throat, and if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, it would have been hard to believe that such a sharp scream could have come from such a thick body.
As if aking from a dream, the ogre fell into a rage.
Their leader, right in front of them, was murdered by humans right in front of their eyes.
If this kept their sanity, then they weren't ogres known for their manic tyranny.
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"Kill all the humans!"
The blood-red ogres shouted wildly and launched a frantic assault on the barricades.
For the syndicate, who was well-formed and well-defended, although the attack of these big monsters looked fierce, it was actually not enough to be afraid, and without the orders of the officers, the musketeers and archers standing in the front row had already opened fire, and under the dense rain of arrows, the ogres who were climbing over the barricades and rejecting horses fell half at once.
Before the remaining ogres could rush up, the archers had retreated to the back of the line in an orderly manner, replaced by thick shields and dense spears.
When the ogre finally climbed over the obstacle and came to the front of the queue, with the order of the officers, between the shields, countless sharp spears stabbed forward, piercing the ogre that was clanging against the shield.
The archers who had retreated to the commanding heights on both sides had already begun to suppress the fire of the follow-up ogres, shooting them like hedgehogs, screaming.
With the cooperation of the barricades and the rejection array, the human array is like a reef in the waves, standing still.
Although the ogre far surpassed humans in both physique and strength, it was completely unable to exert itself in this dense battle array.
In less than half an hour, at least twenty or thirty ogres fell before the gate.
Inevitably, the ogres who had lost their leader began to have a look of fear on their faces, and many had even begun to retreat.
Courage without discipline does not always last, and for ogres who have not yet broken away from the ignorant tribal society, timidity and cringe will prevail in their minds when confronted with enemies who are tougher than them.
Looking at the scene in front of him, Duke Facurrest nodded with satisfaction, although he had departed from his original intention of wanting to settle peacefully, but it was good to teach these ogres some lessons, meat bones and leather whips, for lackeys, they were all indispensable.
However, at this moment, the bitch of Doom threw her dice again, and just a few seconds later, the situation was completely out of the Duke's control.
Because right behind the pack of ogres, Shaman Ruhl?
Boulder raised his staff and cast a shamanic spell on the people in front of him.
A demonic red spilled out of his hand, enveloping the seven or eight ogres at the front of the line.
Bloodlust, this was one of the only few spells he could use, and his pitiful cast range wasn't enough to bless everyone.
But for the current ogre, this is enough.
The seven or eight enchanted ogres suddenly froze there, trembling slightly, dressed like enraged bison, but incredible changes were taking place in them—their bones rattled and their bones cracked, their bloated and fat bodies bulging out of their muscles and knots, and even their blood vessels bulged up like earthworms.
After just a few seconds, the ogres raised their heads, their eyes glowing blood-red, and their already massive bodies looked even taller, almost like giants.
"I will tear you to pieces, drink your blood, and eat your flesh!"
They roared wildly, then rushed like primitive beasts to the human defenses.
The Syndicates had never seen such a frantic and violent attack, and under the influence of Bloodlust, even if they were pierced through the body by several spears, as long as they were not pierced through the heart, brain, or other vital points, these crazy ogres could continue to wield heavy weapons and shout until the last drop of blood was drained.
Some ogres even dropped their weapons directly, and fanatically pounced on the tight shield array of humans with their chests, and used their huge size to crush the opponent's shield and people to the ground.
Almost in the blink of an eye, the Syndicate's defenses were broken through several gaps, and the spirited ogres poured into the crowd through these gaps, and the two sides of the battle were suddenly mixed together.
The offensive and defensive battles with clear barriers suddenly turned into a melee battle.
The ogre's size and strength advantage were brought into full play in this kind of battle, sending waves of blood through the crowd like a meat grinder.
The originally triumphant Duke Facurrest was stunned by this sudden change, and almost in the blink of an eye, the situation had already eroded to an uncontrollable extent.
"Steady, steady, keep the formation!"
He shouted loudly, trying to salvage the situation, until a crackling bolt of lightning crossed the chaotic battlefield and struck him.
The duke's whole body was numb from the electricity, his hair stood on end, and his whole body fell to the ground stiffly, and the attendants rushed up and dragged him backwards.
Seconds later, the call for help sounded rapidly at the rear of the battlefield.
The Syndicate, who was losing and retreating, finally couldn't stand it anymore.