Chapter 321 Slightly at

the Upper Hand On the west side of the dwarf army, "Undefeated" Abaier hunted down challengers in the dwarf army like a tiger hunting a hare.

The destructive power of the Rune Anvil could not stop him, and the protective runes on the dwarf's armor could not stop his killing. The shouts of the Chaos Warriors in the distance boosted his morale, making the God-chosen Champion, who was already immersed in killing, even more hysterical.

The Butcher's provocative taunts only fuel his never-ending rage, and he will not back down from a challenge, even if it means more of a slaughter.

Even the best dwarven warriors could not stop the chosen champion in his rage.

By now, no dwarf would try to stop him.

No one knows why there are still dwarves who dare to challenge him. Since there are warriors who want to challenge the strong, then as the leader of the champions, Abel will naturally satisfy all enemies who seek challenges.

Although the opponent was just an insignificant enemy in his long and battle-hardened life.

The flesh hounds charged fiercely towards the source of the sound, and it took only a moment for Abel to close in on the challenger.

Still a butcher, he had killed countless butchers in just a few minutes.

When Abaier beheaded the old butcher with one axe, another call full of fighting spirit came from the west.

The God-chosen Champion did not hesitate, and drove his mount towards the west with even greater momentum.

Another butcher who doesn't know how to live or die. They all look exactly the same, as if they were carved from the same template.

As the hound passed by the dwarf, Abel once again took the other's head.

Blood splattered onto the flesh hound, rendering the red light in its eyes.

The hound, who had long forgotten everything in his madness, continued westward with the chosen champion, knocking over a group of dwarves who were defending their position with shields.

The mount and its blood-mad master maintained their charge, as if to penetrate the dwarf formation and kill their way westward with unstoppable force.

It was not until the Flesh Hound's feet were empty and the feeling of weightlessness instantly enveloped Abel that the two murderous beings finally woke up.

There was no road to the west, so they rushed over the cliff.

The behemoth and its champion fell together, and both fell to the west due to inertia and disappeared into the bottomless valley.

By the time the gleaming coldbloods broke through the fog, tore open the mountain of flesh, and lifted up the corpse of the Chaos Lord from it, the battlefield on the north side had already settled.

The remaining Chaos Warriors were killed one by one by the Dwarf Gunners who divided their firepower, and the huge war monsters were knocked down one by one by Lynch.

When Lynch dealt with the enemies and headed south, all the dwarves made way for him.

The dwarf war chief on the Oath Stone raised his hammer to signal the lizardman, and Lynch also raised his weapon in response.

He didn't quite understand whether it was malicious or well-intentioned, but no matter what, whether it was an enemy or a friend, he could take it.

The dwarf army returned to order, and Mackennick Reddenson gripped his war hammer tightly, letting his voice echo throughout the battlefield.

“The warlord of Eslin is dead! But the hatred has not been completely settled, and these damn scum have committed new crimes against us!

Their names are not on the death list for settling blood debts, because the king's life has been tainted by them, and their dirty crimes can no longer be written down!

Their lives are worth less than the foam of beer! We have the right to take their lives! With their blood we will erase the existing records in the book of hatred! We will use axes and hammers to make them understand the folly of killing a dwarf king and invading the kingdom of dwarves! "

The clan leaders responded to their leader's call to war with war cries. No dwarf was willing to miss the opportunity to wipe out their hatred on the spot.

The Chaos army without its God-chosen champion is no longer a threat. Without the surprise attack from the Chaos tribe, the Chaos army in the south is nothing more than a lamb to be slaughtered.

The horn of counterattack was sounded, the knocking of the rune anvil slowed down, tens of thousands of military boots stomped the ground, and a mighty tide of steel pressed towards the south.

Shells continuously fell on the Chaos Warriors who were still charging, and the overwhelming bullets and arrows also kept pace with the roar of artillery fire.

Even a young dwarf of fifty years old can be considered an experienced veteran. Apart from forging, warfare is the skill that dwarves are most proficient in.

The neat shield formation pushed the tide of chaos back to the south. Even if a few powerful champions broke through the first shield wall, they would be hacked to death by the butchers and berserkers between the shield walls.

There were already few warriors who could rush to the shield under the hail of bullets, and the champions who were capable of breaking through the dwarf army had already died in the first wave of charge.

After another failed charge, they had no chance of turning the tide.

They should have had the opportunity to break through the dwarfs' southern defense line in one wave when the dwarfs' firepower was shared by the enemies in the north and the dwarves were unable to take care of both ends. However, this opportunity was more like a joke played by fate. It disappeared as soon as it appeared.

The remaining Chaos Warriors were separated by the shield formation and became sitting ducks for the Dwarf archers.

The gunpowder and arrows blessed by runes easily broke through the demon armor, and the evil god's warriors faced the final judgment in vain in front of the shield formation.

Every Chaos Warrior can claim that he can easily kill a Dwarf Warrior, and this is even true, but they have no chance to fight the Dwarf Warrior alone, not even a chance to fight.

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All they left behind were marks on the dwarven shields, and those uneven marks were the results of their battle.

By the time Lynch arrived at the southern battlefield, the war was already coming to an end.

If there hadn't been an accident along the way, the dwarves would have started celebrating and mourning.

Apart from the first wave of Chaos Warriors' charge and the chaos caused by the sudden attack from the north, no Dwarf warriors were sacrificed.

Even in the first battle, more people died because they faced the God-chosen Champion.

There were no cheers on the battlefield as the last of the Chaos warriors were mowed down by artillery and rune anvils.

Because no matter what, thousands of dwarves died on this land.

Perhaps this was a resounding victory for humans, because the dwarves killed enemies that were several times larger than themselves, and all of them were elite troops.

But the "elite" minions of Chaos are only relative to humans.

The Norse dwarves, who have lived in the North for thousands of years, certainly know that they can have as many warrior demons as they want, because human reproduction is like a plague, growing and spreading wildly on the earth.

All the devil needs to do is to use his power to create such an "elite".

Even if one Dwarf's life is exchanged for the lives of hundreds of Chaos Warriors, no Dwarf Fortress would be willing to do so. This is not a good deal.

Sometimes they had to avoid fighting. If it weren't for a blood feud, which fortress would be willing to gamble its future?

They can't afford to waste time.

Let alone a hundred enemies, even if a thousand enemies consumed the life of a dwarf, it would be an unbearable loss.

For there are such enemies, and they are endless, while the number of dwarves is limited and even rarer.

(End of this chapter)