Ashen Dragon

"Shhh—"

The piercing whistle tore through the skies as rows of armored Bipedal Wyverns streaked overhead, trailing white contrails, their razor-sharp metallic wing armor shredding the air apart.

To the many enemies of the Ashen Empire—this was the sound of death!

"Damn it, those big birds are back again!"

"Those damn birds!"

"Last time they came, they bombed the shit out of us. Lucky I managed to keep my neck intact!"

"Hit the ground! Last time I survived by dropping flat when they started dropping their eggs!" an orc shouted loudly.

To these naïve green-skin orcs, the bombs dropped by the Aviation Corps were nothing more than "exploding eggs" laid by big birds, but they knew full well how dangerous these things were—capable of taking their lives. The blackened corpses littering the ground had proven this beyond a doubt.

Shells rained down like a torrential downpour, exploding almost simultaneously the instant they hit the ground, scattering countless shards of shrapnel and thick streams of gasoline-based mixtures. A wall of flames erupted, row after row, cutting through the earth with ferocity.

The Empire's solidified gasoline bombs were specifically engineered for these green-skin orcs, creating a horrifying sea of fire that burned on continuously, spreading and consuming the plant-like bodies of the orcs until nothing remained but ashes.

By now, the war had reached a point where the orcs were no longer the reckless lunatics who charged blindly forward with no regard for their own lives. Though still brutes at heart, they had grown somewhat cautious, even learning to dig holes in the ground to evade the explosions.

While they did not fear death, they dreaded dying without a chance to fight, terrified of dying ambiguously. In their old beliefs, dying on the battlefield was an honorable affair.

But now, after enduring the Empire's overwhelming firepower, even the orcs' beliefs had begun to shift drastically.

"Let's go!"

"Run!"

"If we hide in those pits, they won't be able to bomb us!"

And so, amidst the fiery inferno, the green-skin orcs shouted and shoved each other, desperately trying to get away from the Bipedal Wyverns and avoid the flames sparked by the explosions. For once, chaos erupted among their ranks as panic took over.

"Boom!"

A shell detonated mid-air, its searing tongues of fire engulfing dozens of orcs in an instant. The flames spread quickly, surrounding even more orcs, leaving them to wail and howl helplessly in the inferno.

"It's so hot!"

"Big Mouth, save me! Put out the fire on my back!"

"Get away from me! Don't come near me!"

"Damn it, now I'm on fire because of you!"

Some orcs, their bodies ablaze, wrestled with each other, rolling together in the fire. Soon, they turned into two lumps of charred, intertwined corpses, their deaths fulfilling their desire to die in a vicious brawl.

Seeing this, more orcs stopped struggling, instead choosing to turn on their comrades and fight before the inevitable. The reasons for their fights were absurdly trivial—it seemed all they wanted was one final brawl before death.

"Blackback, what are you looking at me for?"

"I'm looking at you. What of it?"

"You looking to die?"

"Hahaha! I'll kill you before the fire does!"

"Same here!"

The flames spread at an unimaginable pace, like scarlet scythes reaping the surface of the earth over and over again.

Thick smoke veiled the charred wasteland, where countless shadows struggled and howled, dragging themselves toward a grim death.

However, as the bombardment subsided, colossal iron beasts emerged from the thick smoke, rampaging across the land. They crushed the surviving orcs who had escaped the blasts under their tracks with merciless abandon.

Even their treads were soaked in the green-glowing blood of the orcs.

"Boom—"

The iron beasts let out a thundering roar as flames burst from their thick barrels. Once the roar died out, the cluster of orcs gathered in the distance had been obliterated, leaving only scattered remains behind.

"Kill these Empire beasts!"

"They're finally here! So this is the Imperial people?"

"Waaaagh!"

Upon finally seeing enemies close enough to attack, some orcs were overcome with excitement. They swung their bone rods and stone axes as they surged toward the steam tanks in an attempt to surround them.

One particularly daring orc even leaped onto the back of a steam tank, relentlessly pounding its armor with a bone rod. Meanwhile, countless orcs hurled spears, stones, and other crude weapons, desperately trying to damage the colossal beast of iron.

"Bang! Bang!"

Low thuds resounded, but no matter how hard they struck, they couldn't penetrate the thick armor of the steam tanks.

"It won't even budge!"

"Damn it! These beasts trained by the Empire are also wrapped in iron. What a massive iron lump!"

"Watch out, this thing's about to go berserk!"

"Boom—"

Suddenly, the steam engine roared to life, spewing thick plumes of white smoke from its exhaust pipes. The front of the tank had been painted with blood-red eyes by its Dragon Vein Goblin pilot.

Instantly, the steam tank charged forward like a true beast in wrath, crushing hundreds of orcs beneath its immense weight in the blink of an eye.

The protective field sprang forth, hurling the orcs clinging to its hull into the air, where they were shredded to pieces by the machine gun turrets, their bodies reduced to mincemeat mid-air.

Thus, hundreds of tanks followed in the wake of the inferno, forming an impenetrable wall. These enormous machines functioned like titanic meat grinders, slaughtering every orc that managed to flee the fiery sea.

Yet there were still many orcs who sought alternative survival methods. They dug furiously into the earth, burying themselves in deep holes far from the spreading fire, even sealing the entrances behind them.

Green-skin orcs were, after all, creatures born from the depths of the earth. They could draw air and nutrients from the soil and possessed an incredible vitality. Even if they buried themselves deep underground, they could survive for months by feeding on dirt.