Chapter 317 Legion

In the southern part of the Norse Mountains, Abair the Undefeated rode a fleshhound that looked like an elephant, leading the Chaos Warriors back to the north.

According to other Chaos Lords, the Ethlin tribe in the Giantland Mountains is fighting against the Dwarves, and they, the Chaos Lords, may be able to deal with the Dwarves in the mountains along the way.

The dissipating yellow clouds were penetrated by the sunlight, and the sunlight stimulated the sharpness of the fine steel rune axes on the ground.

The chilling cold light shot straight into the sky, and the indestructible edge within the light was hidden in the uniform shouts.

"Khazukan!"

Almost all the dwarfs from the four dwarf fortresses came out in full force. More than 30,000 dwarves occupied the main roads connecting the north and south of the Giant's Home Mountains. The warriors wrapped in fine steel and runes angrily pounded their round shields, calling for war with the beat of steel drums.

"Khazakit!"

The cold wind couldn't help but respond to the solemn and crisp sound of the weapons clashing, and the distant echo drowned out the howling of the chaotic beasts.

Even the giant dragon that had been sleeping in Dragon Horn Peak for nearly ten years was awakened by the screams from the foot of the mountain. When the dragon stuck its head out of its nest and saw the crazy army of dwarves on the ground, it quietly left its nest like the giants and trolls and migrated away.

No one would want to fight the dwarf army head-on. The loud bangs of the rune anvils are like death horns.

The last people to face the Dwarven army were the High Elves during the Golden Age.

None of the ancient creatures knew why these dwarfs went crazy, but they all took up weapons, put on armor, and stood ready on the mountain road. Even the miracles forged by their ancestors with runes were carried out by them.

The dwarves haven't deployed such a formation for thousands of years.

Since the ancient times, when the golden age of the dwarves passed, there has never been a dwarf army of this scale in the world.

"Khazukan!"

Millions of voices are shouting for revenge in the sound of steel drums, and pairs of eyes filled with the fire of hatred are expressing their desire for the blood of their enemies to their ancestors.

Uncontrollable rage ignited the abdomens of all the dwarves. Blood debt must be repaid with blood. Only blood debt can be repaid with blood.

"Children of Granny! The final moment has come!

Dulong City has fallen, and the king tells of blood feuds in the dreams of his ancestors! The minions of demons and chaos are trampling on our land. They cut the flesh of the dwarves with their clumsy swords, rust the mountains of the giants' land with plague, and they are gnawing at the mountain kingdom! There is no peace anymore, and all Dumumgi will pay the price! For King Thorgard Koromson and all the dwarves who died in the disaster.

I, Mackennick Reddenson, swear on my beard to Grimnir that this hatred will never be settled until the Ethlin tribe is destroyed! Debts written in blood can only be erased with blood!"

"Khazakit!"

"Khazukan!"

The angry and violent voice knocked on the door of death between the mountains, and the endless roar shook the abyss below the cliff again and again.

Even if all the Norse Dwarves died in the battle, they would make the minions of Chaos pay for this blood feud.

The short battle cry was shouted over and over again by the anxious Avengers. Hammer Warriors and Ironbreakers holding large shields erected shield walls outside the phalanx. Butchers and Berserkers wandered between the shield walls, waiting for the idiots who were about to crash into the dwarf army.

They do not have as much star iron as their southern brethren to forge armor, but the new type of plate armor melted from fine steel and runes will only deform under the brute force of the giants, which is enough to deal with the Chaos Warriors.

They were stuck on the Hanfeng Mountain Road. Whether they wanted to go north or south, they had to take this road.

No matter where the Norscans wanted to go, they had to pass through the shield wall that could stop the giants.

Steep mountains separate the north and south ends of the Giant Country Range, and nearly vertical cliffs disconnect the valleys between the mountains.

Only this mountain road occupied by the dwarves can connect the two sides of the abyss. This is the battlefield chosen by the dwarves for the enemy.

The advantageous terrain has been occupied by the dwarves, and now all they have to do is wait for their prey to crash into the iron net.

The young dwarves who were not very experienced repeatedly checked the pure steel crossbows in the shield formation. The Thunderer stroked the dwarven muskets that had been improved countless times, and endured the scolding of the longbeards together with the dwarven crossbowmen.

They always chatter like this.

No young man dared to talk back, because every long-bearded man was an elder of high status, a veteran who had survived countless conflicts, and they had magnificent beards second only to those of their "living ancestors".

They revered the long beard as they revered the war chief who stood high in the ranks.

The dwarf war chief, Mackenaker, stood on the tall Oath Stone, reviewing the army with his eyes wide open. No young man dared to look him in the eye.

This might be the last time for this respectable old dwarf to put on armor and go into battle. Even though the young dwarves were reluctant to admit that the Norsemen could harm their "living ancestors" who had lived for thousands of years, they couldn't help but feel sad.

The dwarf on the Oath Stone must ensure that all enemies can notice him at the first moment. There are only a handful of recorded dwarves who can continue to stand on the Oath Stone after the battle.

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Those dwarves who did not survive to the end were also "living ancestors" who had reached the theoretical limit of the dwarves' lifespan.

Sorrow was ignited by anger, and the Longbeards tirelessly described to other Dwarves the records of the Norscans in the Book of Hate. Those Dwarves who died tragically at the hands of the minions of Chaos were with them, all the dead were with them, and every Dwarf was eager for revenge.

Rune apprentices were busy cooling the rune anvils, and rune masters were caring for the war machines, arranging and classifying different rune combinations.

Organ cannons and flame cannons underwent a final round of tuning by engineers, ready to unleash explosions of runes and gunpowder upon the dwarfs' enemies.

There are very few Chaos Lords who have fought against the regular legions of the ancient races, at least there are only a handful of those who are still alive.

If we have to include those who have died, a book would not be enough to write all their names.

Perhaps they should return to the civilized country first, sacrifice and summon a few bloodthirsty demons to accompany them, and go north with the demon army? The sharp reflection of steel in the sunlight pierced the eyes of the Chaos Lords. The oldest one could not find a dwarf army comparable to the size of the army on the mountain road ahead from his memory.

This doesn't make sense.

There may be only a few thousand dwarves in a dwarf fortress, and those with a large population will not exceed ten thousand. Only large-scale dwarf settlements have more than ten thousand dwarves.

No dwarf king can easily mobilize tens of thousands of dwarf warriors, which means they have to summon all the dwarf rangers, butchers, and wandering clans wandering around the fortress, and unite with other dwarf cities. Only when several kings respond to the call of the High King can they integrate an army of tens of thousands.

The tens of thousands of dwarves before them were obviously not an army assembled in this way.

The shrill roar of cannons rang out one after another, and blazing flames lit up in the dense formation of the dwarves.

The shells dragged their tails, gathering into rain in the sky, gorgeous and deadly.

(End of this chapter)