Don't ask me when the war will end.
There is no word "peace" in our agenda on this bloody border.
From the orcs tearing apart the first line of defense to the poisonous arrows of the elves shooting through the flag of the watchtower——
Do you think those monsters with fangs and pointed ears are really willing to coexist with us?
Look at the rotting soldiers in the sick camp and listen to their wails as the poison eats through their internal organs.
Reconciliation? Absolutely impossible!
We once believed in conventions, negotiations, and the gold-rimmed promises from the headquarters.
Until supplies were cut off and reinforcements disappeared, 50,000 alien coalition troops flooded toward the final position like a tide.
Well, now it's our turn!
When the blood of eight hundred wounded soldiers boils in the iron pot, when the beak mask of the epidemic doctor emerges behind the steam——
I know something awakens in our bones.
Not kindness, not tolerance.
It's when you are forced to the edge of a cliff, when your comrades are about to be torn apart behind you, when the enemy smiles and wants to taste your despair...
Will you choose to be a beast or a plague?
Tonight, three hundred clay pots filled with pus, blood and rot will fly towards the orc camp.
Tonight, the dying captives will crawl back to the enemy lines and offer their rot to their compatriots like gifts.
Tonight, we will let those wolf bastards who rely on their keen sense of smell go crazy and bite in the vomit of their own people until they die.
If this is sin, then I am willing to bear all the curses.
If this is the work of the devil, then I am the source of your nightmares.
My fellow citizens, raise your eyes and look at this battlefield.
There are no heroic legends or romantic epics here.
Either water our land with the blood of our enemies, or let our blood become the wine at their celebration banquet.
