Olf

"Get out here!" Olf roared, his arms bursting with astonishing power as he yanked backward!

A gasp came from behind the hole in the wall. A young garrison soldier, dressed in Carnford militia uniform and with a youthful face, was forcibly pulled out of the hole, spear and all, and stumbled and fell into the alleyway.

Clearly, this was an inexperienced recruit who panicked after landing a successful blow and failed to release his grip and retreat in time.

The recruit, terrified by Olf's ferocious face, frantically tried to scramble to his feet and run away.

Olf's eyes flashed with a fierce light. He didn't give his opponent any chance. His right fist, clad in Iron Gauntlets, slammed into the recruit's face like a heavy hammer, accompanied by a vicious gust of wind!

"Crack!" A sickening sound of bone breaking rang out, and the recruit's face instantly caved in. He died on the spot without even uttering a sound.

At this moment, the soldiers behind Olf's squad also quickly filed out, occupying both sides of the alleyway, vigilantly watching for any other potential threats.

Olf, panting heavily, glanced at the shield bearer still pinned to the wall, convulsing in agony and emitting weak groans. The soldier's eyes were filled with fear of death and a hint of pleading.

Olf's eyes were as cold as iron, without the slightest fluctuation.

In this life-or-death urban warfare, carrying a seriously wounded soldier would be a complete burden, only slowing down the entire squad and putting everyone in danger.

Without hesitation, he drew the short-handled axe from his waist, stepped forward, and, in the soldier's despairing gaze, brought the axe down!

"Thud!" The axe cleaved his throat with pinpoint accuracy, ending his companion's suffering.

Blood splattered on Olf's indifferent face. He wiped it away casually, then bent down to pick up the shield dropped by the fallen shield bearer and tossed it to another soldier behind him. "You, now at the front!"

The entire squad of soldiers ignored this scene as if they had simply done something perfectly ordinary.

In the Sauron Army, especially in such brutal close-quarters combat, abandoning or even executing severely wounded soldiers who could not move in order to save the squad was a common and tacitly accepted battlefield rule.

Survival is paramount.

"Keep moving! Clear this row of houses!" Olf's voice was hoarse and cold, as if he had just swatted a fly.

He carried the blood-stained short axe and once again walked behind the new shield bearer.

After clearing out the ambushers at the alley entrance, Olf's squad quickly targeted the first semi-subterranean house on the right. This house looked more dilapidated than the surrounding ones, with a low wooden door that was askew and looked as if it would collapse at any moment.

"Same as always! Shieldbearers, break down the door! Everyone else, follow up! Watch the sides and the roof!" Olf whispered, quickly issuing the orders, signaling the new shieldbearers to move to the front.

The new shield bearer took a deep breath, pressed his leather-covered Wooden Shield firmly against his body, and bowed slightly.

Olf stood close behind him, his short-handled axe poised to strike. The other seven soldiers spread out in battle formation, spears pointed forward, archers nocking their arrows, vigilantly watching for any possible movement around them.

"Charge!" Olf roared.

The shield bearer exerted a sudden burst of strength, slamming his shoulder and shield together against the dilapidated wooden door!

"Bang! Crash!!!"

The wooden door was utterly vulnerable, instantly shattering into pieces, sending splinters flying everywhere.

The shield bearer used his momentum to rush into the house, stumbled a bit, and barely managed to regain his balance.

The room was dimly lit and filled with a musty and bloody smell.

Just as the shield bearers burst in, their vision still adjusting to the darkness...

"Ugh!" A hoarse roar, filled with despair and hatred, echoed from inside the door!

A dark figure suddenly darted out from the shadows beside the door, like a hungry wolf pouncing on its prey, and slammed into the shield bearer!

This was a wounded Carnford soldier covered in blood, with one arm hanging limply at his side. He had been lying in ambush there for who knows how long, his eyes burning with a final madness! Taking advantage of the moment when the shield-wielder lost his balance after the impact, he successfully tackled him to the ground!

"Die! Sauron mongrels!" the wounded soldier roared, his only intact hand gripping a rusty but sharp dagger, and he desperately stabbed it into the shield bearer's abdomen through the gap in his armor!

"Thud! Thud!" The dagger pierced through the leather armor and penetrated deep into the flesh! The shield bearer let out a painful groan and struggled desperately, but was pinned down by the weight of the wounded soldier!

"You're asking for it!" Olf rushed in right after, reacted quickly. Seeing this, he roared and kicked the wounded soldier hard in the side!

"Crack!" The clear sound of bones breaking rang out. The wounded soldier was kicked and rolled away, crashing into the earthen wall. Blood gushed from his mouth, and he was clearly beyond saving.

However, the crisis was not over! Almost at the same time that Olf made his move, from another corner of the house, another, more intact Carnford garrison soldier who had been lying in wait pounced out like a cheetah, his target Olf, who had just lifted his foot and was still unsteady on his feet!

"Sir, be careful!" the soldier behind cried out in alarm, but it was too late!

Olf felt a blur before his eyes as a tremendous force slammed into him from the side, knocking him violently to the ground! A garrison soldier with a ferocious face and bloodshot eyes straddled him, gripping a dagger tightly in both hands, and plunged it down towards Orf's throat!

In that life-or-death moment, Olf unleashed the ferocity and instinct of a veteran! He had no time to swing his axe to parry; he could only raise his left hand and grab the blade of the dagger with lightning speed!

"Laugh!!!"

The sharp blade instantly sliced through the flesh of his palm, and blood spurted out! But Olf seemed to feel no pain; his five fingers gripped the blade tightly like iron clamps, and no matter how hard the dagger was used, it could not be pressed down even an inch! The blade rubbed against his metacarpal bones, making a teeth-grinding "crunching" sound.

The two wrestled fiercely on the ground, rolling around in a heap!

"Kill him!" Olf forced out the order through clenched teeth.

The Sauron soldier behind finally reacted, and two spearmen roared and charged forward, thrusting their spears forward!

"Pfft! Pfft!"

Almost simultaneously, two spears pierced the back of the garrison soldier who was pinning Olf down! The soldier's body stiffened abruptly, the fierce light in his eyes quickly dimmed, blood spilled from his mouth and nose, and he slumped to the side.

Olf shoved the corpse aside, panting as he got up from the ground. He glanced at his mangled, bone-exposed left hand, then at the two twitching corpses of the guards on the ground, and a surge of rage welled up inside him.

He raised his short-handled axe and struck the body of the guard who had been killed by the spear twice more, until the man was completely still.

He looked around. In this small, dimly lit room, besides them, there were only a few already cold corpses of civilians or soldiers; there were no other living beings.

"Pah!" Olf spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, tore a relatively clean Cloth Strip from a corpse, hastily wrapped it around his injured left hand a few times, and tightened it to stop the bleeding.

Throughout the entire process, he didn't even frown.

"You, now at the front as the shield bearer!" He casually pointed to a spearman and tossed him his blood-stained shield. "Continue! Next room!"