Ashen Dragon

The Dragon Vein Goblins were filled with frenzy, stomping the pedal to the floor, letting out a sharp scream.

"For the Ashen Emperor!"

"Crush them—"

The earth trembled, dust flew, and the steel behemoth roared in fury, spewing forth billowing steam, then accelerated toward the Dwarf Heavy Infantry.

The steam tank, over three meters tall, grew larger in the dwarves' vision, like a small mountain rolling toward them, carrying an indescribable, terrifying presence.

"This is—"

"Moradin above..."

Faced with such a sight, even the steadfast Dwarf Heavy Infantry couldn't help widening their mouths, their voices trembling faintly.

Against this steel behemoth, even thick and heavy armor could do little to bring the dwarves a sense of security. After all, they remained as flesh and blood.

"Do not falter, do not fear! Never take a step back! Hold the Path of Tempering to the death!"

"For Aivendel!"

The leading dwarf commander stood at the forefront of the formation, clutching his massive Heavy Hammer tightly, roaring with thunderous ferocity.

Though the enemy charged ferociously, not a single Dwarf Heavy Infantry retreated. They formed their tightly-packed phalanx as usual, blocking the valley's exit. Beneath the heavy visors gleamed steadfast light.

This was the High Mountain Kingdom's Dwarf Heavy Infantry. Brave and fearless, stubborn as bedrock, they were famously known as the "Black Stone Mountain Wall."

In previous wars, the Dwarf Heavy Infantry, with only a hundred men, had resisted more than ten waves of brutal Orc attacks, inflicting nearly ten thousand losses upon them—a record of glorious combat.

But this time, their opponent was — the Ashen Empire's Steel Torrent.

The ground's vibrations grew more violent, and one steel behemoth after another broke through the dust clouds, approaching the dwarves' defensive line closer and closer.

Five hundred meters, two hundred meters, one hundred meters, fifty meters...

The dwarf commander raised his Giant Shield with his left hand, bracing it forward, then swung his Warhammer with his right hand fiercely, roaring: "For Aivendel! Hold your ground!"

At that moment, all the Dwarf Heavy Infantry at the valley's mouth raised their Giant Shields, forming an impervious steel wall, yelling in unison: "For Aivendel!"

The war cry reverberated through the valley, majestic and full of might.

But the next instant, the roar of engines overwhelmed the dwarves' cries. They felt deafened.

"Boom boom boom—"

The steel behemoth roared as it crushed toward the Dwarf Heavy Infantry. The mountains quaked in fury, smoke erupted all around!

"Come on! Let me see what gives you the audacity to stand before me!" Bill shouted fanatically.

Under the Dragon Vein Goblin's control, the mountain-like steam tank charged at the dwarf formation without hesitation, crashing fiercely into their ranks.

The sharp battering ram at the tank's front carried dreadful kinetic energy, shattering the dwarves' giant shields instantly and ripping open a massive breach in the defense.

"Boom!"

With a dull crash, the dwarves in the front row were sent flying, while shards of shields, armor, and dismembered limbs scattered in the air.

"No!"

The dwarf commander swung his Heavy Hammer, attempting to break through the tank's thick armor, but was also struck by the tremendous force, flung backward into the rocky cliff behind him, embedding deeply into it.

The Giant Shield Soldiers that would cost the Orcs thousands of casualties to overwhelm were destroyed in an instant by the Imperial Army—this steam tank crushed through the first line of defense like a hammer smashing glass.

Soon after, the second and third rows of dwarves failed to resist the frenzy of the steel behemoth. Its formidable power churned into the tank's tracks.

The hundred-ton steam tank pressed forward relentlessly; even the fine Giant Shields and Heavy Armors screeched under the tracks until they were flattened into slabs mixed with flesh and blood, like a grotesque, iron pancake...

The Dragon Vein Goblin shouted wildly: "Hahaha! Is this all you've got?!"

Outside the cockpit, he was a small and frail creature whose size wasn't exaggerated—these dwarves could crush him into a pulp easily.

But within the tank's cockpit, he was the Tyrant, the master of life and death, a beast capable of unleashing scourges, and the killing machine that would obliterate the enemy...

Bill was entranced, intoxicated by this sensation. He believed the soaking enemy blood would delight the tank's machine soul—after all, he was a devout follower of the Mechanical God Cult.

More enemies had to die. This way... only this way could the tank unleash even greater strength, he thought.

And so, Bill raised his arms high and shouted: "Burn them all!"

"Burn them all!"

"For the Empire!" The goblins inside the cockpit shouted in excited unison.

From the metal cannons on the tank's sides, frenzied dragons of flame suddenly surged out, instantly igniting the dwarves nearby. The viscous gasoline mixture consumed them, enveloping their entire bodies in fire.

The dwarf commander climbed out of the pit in the rocky cliff, only to see flames raging everywhere, thick smoke billowing, the valley transformed into a purgatory of despair.

"No!"

"Damn it, this fire cannot be extinguished!"

Around him, the Dwarf Heavy Infantry struggled desperately, rolling on the ground in an attempt to extinguish the flames consuming them.

Yet their Heavy Armor, soaked in a gasoline mix, became a virtual steamer, burning ever hotter, glowing red, and even beginning to melt. The once indestructible armor had become a scorching prison for the dwarves, dooming them to be cooked alive inside.

"It's so hot, so hot!"

"Is this all you've got? Don't get too arrogant—damn you Evil Dragon Kin, the dwarves will crush you eventually!"