Chapter 839: Chapter 167 Roaring Earth
“Boom——”
Accompanied by the thunderous roar of engines, the steam tanks ford a tightly-knit formation, advancing like a moving mountain, with billowing dust clouds trailing behind them.
Behind the Armored Corps, the Empire’s infantry regint advanced swiftly under the protection of the tanks, steadily closing in on the city walls.
In the sky, bipedal wyverns flapped their wings, shrieking sharply and circling back and forth, spreading out towards Aivendel like a thick storm cloud in a raging tempest.
The plains before Aivendel City’s walls had been completely occupied by the Ashen Legion, whose offensive surged forth like a terrifying scourge, bearing down upon the dwarves’ fortress in a relentless tide.
“Damn it…”
“These… These bastards, truly…”
Faced with such an overwhelming force, even the typically fearless dwarves couldn’t help but swallow nervously, their rugged faces adorned with thick beards betraying surprise and traces of unease.
At this mont, Ed had returned to the battlents under the admiring gaze of his subjects, his heavy armor now blood-stained and battered, while the tal warhamr in his grip was dyed red with wyvern blood.
“It’s Lord Ed!”
“Praise the Master of High Mountains!”
“Did you see that? His Majesty singlehandedly slew a dozen imperial beasts!”
“Worthy of being our King! Long live Lord Ed!”
Upon seeing Ed’s return, the dwarves’ morale instantly surged, erupting into cheers that echoed across the battlefield.
Amid the flas of war, the Dwarf King stood tall atop Aivendel City’s ramparts, his eyes piercing through the smoky haze of battle, his broad shoulders seemingly carrying the hopes of the entire kingdom.
At this mont, even as he faced countless enemies head-on, there wasn’t a shred of fear on his face; his eyes radiated an unyielding light of determination.
The scene was reminiscent of fifty years ago, when Ed alone confronted Fadlan’s massive army.
But now, Ed’s Fla of Life flickered unsteadily, and the coarse palms of his hands no longer gripped the Rock Hamr. At this mont, Aivendel only had a little over nine thousand dwarf warriors left…
The situation was far more desperate than fifty years ago, and the dwarves could only pin their last hopes on their revered King.
Ed’s voice was deep and powerful, resonating like the rumble of mountains across the stone walls.
“Comrades, today we face an unprecedented challenge. Those arrogant invaders dream of trampling our land with their iron lumps and destroying our hos with their flas!
But I ask you, has dwarven courage and resolve been devoured by fear?”
The dwarves shouted in unison: “No!”
The artillery fire continued fiercely, but Ed remained unfazed, casting his resolute gaze downward at the face of every single dwarf below.
For this was a battlefield, and the Empire’s snipers cared nothing for so-called “noble honor.”
Instead, they seized the opportunity to strike, pulling their triggers as over a dozen bullets whizzed through the air, aiming for the Dwarf King’s head and heart—each deadly precision shot aid to kill.
Monts later, multiple cannonballs descended from the sky, as if guided by unseen hands, hurtling toward Ed on the battlents.
“Watch out!” a dwarf cried out in alarm.
Yet Ed didn’t flinch or even glance; he rely raised the warhamr in his hand high as a mountainous shadow erged behind him, blocking all the bullets and cannonballs.
Explosions erupted behind him, fiery bursts illuminating the sky, yet Ed remained indifferent, shouting resolutely: “Good! Even in death, we will never surrender this land, passed down through generations, to these greedy souls!
Our iron hamrs will shatter their claws and fangs; our fury will lt their iron armor! Long live the High Mountain Kingdom! Aivendel will never fall!”
Surrounding dwarf warriors clenched their weapons, tears glimring in their eyes as the King’s words ignited their spirits, unleashing a thunderous roar of resolve.
“Aivendel will never fall!”
“Long live the High Mountain Kingdom!”
“Victory!”
Ed’s words struck every dwarf’s heart like a heavy hamr.
The dwarves understood: behind them stood Aivendel, their lifeline, their sole holand, the place where Shield Dwarves had thrived for thousands of years.
They were willing to sacrifice everything for this fortress and their King.
The dwarves’ cries reverberated across the smoke-filled battlefield, rging with the distant artillery fire into a grand, tragic symphony.
Yet their shouts could not halt the Ashen Legion’s offensive. Ed tid his speech perfectly, finishing just as the Ashen Legion approached the dwarves’ range of fire.
Under the King’s rallying call, the dwarf warriors swiftly recovered their spirits, working feverishly to prepare for the city’s defenses before plunging into the heat of battle once more.
“Boom!”
“Boom! Boom!”
As they advanced, the front-line steam tanks roared, unleashing their main cannons upon the outer edges of the city walls.
Each shell triggered a violent explosion, and the magic shield flickered with rippling waves. Under the relentless pounding, its bright yellow glow grew dim and unstable.
But the dwarves showed no trace of fear; they activated their city wall defenses, deploying dwarf steel crossbows, catapults, stone-shooting cannons, and more, launching a bold counterattack.
“Crush them!”
“Let those Evil Dragon Kin taste our might!”
“All units, fire!”
Thousands of dwarf archers pulled back their longbows, releasing wave after wave of fire-tipped arrows that rained down like a torrential storm.
But while these fla-imbued arrows were devastatingly effective against orcs, they rely glanced off the cold iron armor of the steel behemoths, leaving faint white marks before bouncing away with crisp clinking sounds of futility.
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