Ashen Dragon

"You filthy orc-bred bastards!"

"Long live Aivendel! Long live the High Mountain Kingdom! Long live the Shield Dwarves!"

The heart-wrenching screams echoed from the figures engulfed in flames.

Even in their final moments, the Dwarf Heavy Infantry never forgot to boost morale, cursing the brutal invaders, wishing they could devour them alive.

Hearing their companions' voices, the Dwarf Commander dragged himself out of the rubble, picked up the Heavy Hammer from the ground, and staggered forward.

Upon seeing the terrifying steel behemoth still crushing his comrades, rage seized his entire being. Veins bulged across his forehead, and his eyes burned with fury. He paid no heed to the searing tongues of fire, recklessly charging toward it.

He growled under his breath: "I'll show you the strength of the Children of the Mountains!"

The Dwarf Commander raised his arms, channeling every ounce of his strength, swinging his hammer with all his might, striking the armor of the steel giant.

"Clang—"

The explosive sound of steel echoed through the sky.

Under the full-powered attack of a Supernatural-level Transcendent Warrior, the tank's thick armor abruptly dented, fissures blooming across its surface.

The entire tank rocked violently, nearly tipping over. The sight was absurdly awe-inspiring, like an ant shaking a mountain.

However, Imperial Military engineers had learned from the lessons of the demon wars, implementing defensive countermeasures to address assaults from Transcendents.

"Crack—Boom!"

As the Heavy Hammer smashed into the armor, the steam tank's emergency counter-defense activated. Arcs of electricity surrounded the machine, projecting a force field that instantly sent the electrified Dwarf Commander flying into the air.

Bill pointed at the airborne dwarf, his face contorted with fury: "Damn dwarf, how dare you damage my precious toy? Turn him into a sieve for me!"

"Yes, boss!"

The goblin gunners eagerly popped out and aimed their twin machine guns, raining bullets down on the dwarf.

"Ratatatatat!"

Paralyzed and airborne, the dwarf was utterly defenseless, unable to dodge the storm of bullets tearing into him.

Only the faint glow of Protective Magic shimmered on his armor, but it was quickly riddled with countless bullet holes, spiderweb-like cracks spreading across its surface.

—Being the frontline tank, the "Emperor's Fury" was equipped with bullets imbued with Antimagic properties. Intricate runes adorned the metal shells.

Suddenly, accompanied by a sharp "Shhhhk" sound, the dwarf commander's armor shattered mid-air, scattering metallic fragments in all directions.

"No—"

The dwarf let out a furious roar. Blood sprayed from his muscular, compact body. Even the tough, resilient flesh of a Transcendent Warrior was no match for the relentless onslaught of machine gunfire.

Screaming in agony, the Dwarf Commander hit the ground, rolling multiple times, his body riddled with bullet holes. Blood streamed from every wound, pooling beneath him.

Severely wounded, the commander was a mere breath away from death; the scorching bullets had shredded his internal organs, leaving his insides a mangled mess.

Summoning the last traces of his strength, he turned his head toward the mighty fortress built against the mountain, croaking: "Aivendel... will never fall."

The next moment, the steel behemoth surged forward with the roar of its steam engines, mercilessly crushing his body under its tracks. Blood sprayed everywhere, staining the treads scarlet.

At the mouth of the valley, smoke billowed endlessly, flames crackled, and the corpses of Dwarf Heavy Infantry littered the ground.

"For the Empire!"

The goblins poked their heads out, screaming fanatically.

One by one, steam tanks rolled out, grinding over the bodies of the fallen dwarves, breaking through the smoke as they advanced toward Aivendel City.

Bipedal Wyverns swooped into the valley, tirelessly hunting remnants of the dwarves. Using their winged forelimbs, they clawed at rocks, letting out piercing roars.

The Empire's elite Half-Red Dragon Infantry swarmed into the valley, swiftly and expertly clearing the battlefield...

The dwarves' revered "Path of Tempering," thought to be an impenetrable shield, was breached by the Empire in under an hour, barely offering any meaningful resistance.

Those dwarves who perished in flames, suffocated, or were gunned down learned the true meaning of the "Steel Torrent" and "Thunderous Assault" with their lives.

...

On the towering walls of Aivendel City, dwarf warriors clad in armor wielded Heavy Hammers and Great Axes, standing firmly in defense.

After Zeen led away the elderly, sick, and frail, fewer than ten thousand dwarves remained within the city, nearly all able-bodied adult males. They had voluntarily taken on the responsibility to defend Aivendel City, swearing to live and die with it.

From the distant valley, smoke spiraled upward. The battle cries and screams of dwarves mingled with a peculiar low rumble, akin to the howl of a massive beast.

At once, tension swept across the faces of the dwarves, their hearts racing. They knew all too well what this meant—the "Path of Tempering" had suffered catastrophic losses.

How was this possible?

It had only been less than an hour. Based on their previous experience fighting orcs, the Empire's forces should still be bogged down by the countless traps on the path's early stretches.

Could it be that someone had surrendered?

Unthinkable—they were Shield Dwarves, Children of the Earth and Mountains, bound by unwavering resolve to defend their post until death. Any coward would have fled under the cover of night long ago!

Suddenly, a deep rumble echoed from the valley. The dwarves craned their necks to see massive shadows emerging from the dark mist.

—Immediate dread filled their hearts.

"Look! What is that?"

"Wait... It's the Ashen Empire's army, those Evil Dragon Kin!"

"What?"

"By Moradin, this, this can't be, how are they here so quickly!"

"Boom—"

Terrifying, blood-soaked steel behemoths roared through the smoke, bursting into the dwarves' vision.

Soon after, gigantic, ominous figures appeared in the sky—Bipedal Dragon Beasts clad in rugged Scarlet Scale Armor, almost indistinguishable from true giant dragons.

This was the leader of the Two-legged Flying Dragon Clan, the Empire's Duke of Dragon Blood—Stieg!

Stieg loomed atop the mountain valley's peak, rearing up on hind legs, broad wings outstretched, head held high as he extended his neck, letting out a fierce, commanding screech.

"Roooaaar—"

With the Wyvern Leader's roar, hundreds of Bipedal Wyverns responded in kind, their cacophony ear-splitting.

They flapped their wings chaotically, ascending into the sky like a dense, oppressive cloud, their looming shadows scattered across the plains below.

As steam tanks emerged one after another from the valley, the Empire's elite infantry formed tightly packed ranks, swiftly advancing onto the plain, spreading out into formation.

Each Imperial soldier carried state-of-the-art firearms, donned splendidly colored uniforms, and radiated an imposing presence, the Ashen Empire's banner fluttering above them.

Behind them came the Engineering Corps, Artillery Corps, and the Player Special Group, passing through the Path of Tempering to amass below Aivendel City's walls.

Now, nearly fifty thousand Imperial troops had gathered on this relatively narrow plain, their sheer numbers filling the space.

Beyond the valley, another half of the Empire's army waited, ready to rush in and provide reinforcements.

The dwarves gazed upon the Empire's forces, swallowing hard. Indeed, unlike the orcs' masses of 200,000 disorganized troops, the Empire's fifty thousand soldiers were undoubtedly true elites.

If nothing else, the steel-crafted monsters alone left the dwarves in speechless awe—those iron lumps could forge countless quality weapons!

Standing atop the castle walls, Ed looked down at the Empire's army in the distance, muttering to himself: "No wonder they could conquer Aisier in just one month and break through my Path of Tempering effortlessly."

"So... this is the Ashen Empire's army. Truly worthy of its name."

At this moment, Ed felt a surge of tragic pride. A force like this was unlikely to be stopped by his remaining dwarven soldiers numbering less than ten thousand.

Nonetheless, he resolved to give the dwarves their final moment of glory, ensuring their courage would be remembered by the world.

"Come then..."

The Dwarf King gripped the Heavy Hammer tightly, his gaze unwavering.

In the Empire's formation in the distance, the Earth Goblin General Derol raised his head, locking eyes with the Master of High Mountains.

His eyes gleamed, and a malicious grin spread across his face: "So, that's the renowned Master of High Mountains? Hahaha, excellent. His death will guarantee my promotion."