Ashen Dragon

Gunpowder smoke pervaded the battlefield, the sky seemed to be stained with mottled hues, the two armies faced off from a distance, the atmosphere filled with an air of ruthless killing intent.

The dwarves held their ground, standing ready and alert, while the Empire did not rush to attack but calmly executed their formations across the plains, positioning their troops with precision.

"Boom——"

Accompanied by a heavy rumble, steam cars carrying heavy artillery rolled across the plains, and Ogres in pairs or threes hauled the massive cannons. The Imperial troops flowed like a speckled torrent, moving swiftly to form orderly ranks.

Even the bipedal wyverns in the sky formed structured squadrons, expertly circling high above before descending in succession, landing near the supply armored vehicles.

"What is this they're doing...?"

Watching the scene unfold, the Dwarf King furrowed his brows tightly.

In his vision, the Ashen Empire's army should have resembled Orcs: relying on sharp fangs and tough scales combined with overwhelming numbers to claim victory, forming a legion composed of savage, frenzied dragon blood monsters.

But in reality, the Ashen Legion displayed meticulous order, even surpassing the discipline and clarity of tactics seen in the armies of the High Mountain Kingdom.

Bjorn approached the Dwarf King, softly sighing: "Your Majesty, haven't you noticed? The world has already changed, and a New Era of warfare has begun...

The Harpist Alliance has delivered much news. While we dwarves were still mining and forging in the mountains, the firearms of those Imperial People had already spread across the world..."

"So that's how it is." Ed lowered his head, letting out a helpless, bitter laugh.

The situation was far more dire than anticipated. It seemed that leading the clans to migrate with Zeen had certainly been the right choice, Ed thought.

The dwarves too murmured among themselves about the Empire's deployment, not out of fear, but rather confusion and disbelief.

In the brave and reckless traditions of these dwarves, victory in war was determined by who was stronger, whose weapons were harder, and who feared death the least.

As for tactics—what even were those?

"These damned invaders, what are they up to?"

"It doesn't matter; no matter what schemes these Evil Dragon Kin have, we dwarves can crush their skulls with our iron hammers!"

"The beasts raised by Orcs!"

"Yes, those damned bastards—they'll pay! I'll avenge our fallen kin!"

The dwarves, filled with righteous indignation, shouted curses and comments from atop the city walls, throwing out every venomous word from their minds, yet still struggling to come up with enough.

But they were completely unaware: the Empire's artillery battalions and aerial bombing units had already finished their preparations and were ready to unleash merciless destruction upon Aivendel.

...

From the hillside, the Earth Goblin General Derol raised the military saber high in his hand, its sharp, gleaming tip shining brilliantly under the sunlight.

Derol's face was filled with bold confidence as he gazed toward distant Aivendel. In a voice heavy with command, he ordered: "All units—fire!"

The saber slashed downward abruptly, and the crystal-clear command echoed through the communicators, reaching every officer and soldier within the Ashen Legion.

"Firepower coverage!"

Three hundred and twenty-seven heavy cannons and eighty-six tank main guns simultaneously opened fire, releasing deafening roars from these steel-forged war machines, as terrifying flames burst forth from their thick barrels.

"Boom——"

In an instant, the artillery roared in unison, raising billowing smoke and tremors that made the sky shudder and the earth rumble.

At that moment, streaks of gray-brown contrails appeared across the sky, resembling bloodied scars clawed fiercely into the heavens.

These shells, trailing firelight, traced elegant arcs through the air, crossing the thousand-meter gap to descend like a torrent upon the majestic Dwarf Fortress.

"Oh divine one, what is that?"

"What... what in the world is that? How is it possible—this is from across a thousand-meter distance!" The dwarves finally began showing signs of panic.

Even Ed, a veteran of countless battles, gazed up at the monumental scene, his expression drastically changing as he murmured: "Father God Moradin above..."

He now understood the true meaning of Bjorn's words about the "New Era of warfare."

The Dwarf King quickly realized the grimness of the unfolding events. He turned sharply, shouting to the dwarves: "This is bad! Quick, activate the protective array!"

Given that the enemy remained more than a thousand meters away, the priests and mages of the High Mountain Kingdom were completely unprepared. They were still waiting for an advance from the opposing forces, entirely unexpecting the rain of artillery shells from above.

But by now, the shells had already reached the skies over Aivendel and were plummeting toward the city walls—there was no time left.

"Boom!"

A deafening explosion erupted, dozens of shells detonating and producing terrifying blasts that engulfed the area in fire and thick smoke.

The entire wall shook violently, countless rubble tumbling down, with large sections collapsing on the spot. Many dwarves were consumed by the fiery blasts, while others were violently flung into the air.

In just a single round of shelling, numerous scars marred the once-magnificent walls of Aivendel, with hundreds of dwarves perishing in the blazing inferno.

It must be noted that, following Zeen's migration and the loss of the Path of Tempering, Aivendel housed only about nine thousand seven hundred dwarven warriors total—the death of over a hundred dwarves was already considered catastrophic.

And this wasn't even close combat against the Imperial Army. It was just long-range bombardment!

No, to be more precise—it was a unilateral assault!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Shell after shell exploded in succession, with ferocious flames and thick smoke seemingly on the verge of swallowing the city walls whole. Shards from the explosions could easily shear off a dwarf's arm—or even their head.