Amid the fog, waves of crude roars echoed across the battlefield. The Kor'kron soldiers at the gate defenses immediately widened their eyes and gripped their firearms, waiting for the enemy to appear. The enemy did not disappoint them and soon emerged.
They were greenskins—an overwhelming sea of greenskins.
They leaped out of the fog, roaring as they wildly fired their battered guns ahead, utterly unconcerned about friendly fire.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
The Kor'kron positions immediately descended into chaos, because they had no idea where to attack first.
Greenskins were everywhere. It seemed that countless Portals were opening one after another within the thick fog, allowing these greenskins to leap directly over from their own world.
The roar of shoddy engines rang out as dozens of crude metal trucks sped out of the fog. The Goblin drivers shrieked excitedly, with no targets whatsoever—wherever there were more people, they drove straight through them. It was nothing but suicidal ramming.
A large-caliber heavy machine gun that looked like scrap metal was mounted in each truck bed. A greenskin boy operated it, firing wildly. From time to time, greenskins around the trucks were accidentally hit and killed on the spot by their own side.
Accompanied by the piercing whine of spinning circular saws, more than a dozen rusty metal cans with two iron legs charged crookedly out of the fog. Four arms had been welded onto the cans, along with a pair of circular saws and a pair of gun barrels.
The greenskin bosses, clad in high-grade scrap metal, followed behind the killing metal cans in groups of two or three, commanding their boys to charge ahead and die.
The Kor'kron soldiers were genuinely starting to panic. They had never seen such a chaotic army launch suicidal attacks, as if their lives meant