Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 387 Continuous Artillery Bombardment and Encirclement from Three Sides
The "Cracked Claw" tribe is not doing well.

That crushing defeat last time was like a heavy punch to the ribs of this bear-clan orc force, causing internal injuries.

The annihilation of an entire 10,000-strong force, coupled with the severe injury to the tribe's valiant general Rag, meant that even though the Crackclaws were one of the largest tribes among the plains orcs, this loss was devastating.

The "Cracked Claw" orc retreated to its lair, licking its wounds. But before the wounds could even scab over, the enemy arrived again.

Upon learning of the human race's crossing of the river, the "Cracked Claw" tribe immediately mobilized its entire population while simultaneously sending out appeals for aid to the various forces on the White Deer Plain.

However, it is clear that the result was not ideal.

The Tiger Clan and Bear Clan, known as "Thunder Roar," already had some old grudges. This time, they bluntly stated that the enemy was coming aggressively across the river, and their main force might also be attacked. They could only send one or two vassal small tribes to help them.

Well, the number is probably around six hundred orcs, not even enough to form a thousand-man squad.

As for the minotaurs of "Motianling", their response was even more straightforward. They didn't send any messengers at all; only the wolf riders sent by the "Cracked Claw" tribe returned dejectedly to report.

The guards at Motianling wouldn't even let him into the canyon entrance, only relaying the words of the Bull Tribe Chief in a muffled voice: "The battle of Cracked Claw is fought by ourselves. The warriors of Motianling don't guard other people's homes."

That's just how straightforward the cattle people are.

Faced with this situation, the "Cracked Claw" orcs had no choice but to rely on the terrain to fight a defensive battle against these "weak" humans.

Large tribes on the plains naturally have the means to choose the best of the best when selecting their base camp. The lair of the "Crack Claw" tribe is called Crack Claw Canyon.

As the lair of the "Cracked Claw" tribe for nearly a century, this place can no longer be described as easy to defend and difficult to attack; it is a complete giant fortress.

The outer edge of Crack Claw Canyon is a massive stone mountain. Apart from some scattered vegetation at the foot of the mountain, the mountain is almost barren. In the center of the mountain pass, there is a deep rift valley, with towering, dark red rock walls that are almost vertical on both sides. Only a winding path leads through the middle.

The path was extremely narrow, with the narrowest point only wide enough for five riders to walk side by side, and the widest point no more than sixteen or seventeen meters wide.

Within the valley lies the essence of Crack Claw Canyon, a mountain plain.

The warriors of "Cracked Claw" held their ground on the rocky cliffs, keeping the elderly and weak of their tribe within the deep valley plains. These plains also provided the crucial drinking water during the stalemate. With "Cracked Claw's" food reserves, they could hold out for a year or two without any problem.

The longer they hold out, the greater the chance that other tribes will come to their aid. Moreover, the Wilderness Orcs cannot simply stand by and watch the White Deer Plains be ravaged by the humans.

Following this tactical approach, "Crack Claw" opted for a complete retreat, not only withdrawing all of its orcs but also taking back its three medium-sized vassal tribes and a dozen or so small vassal tribes.

The scene was chaotic. The orc tribes scattered over hundreds of kilometers around, whether unwillingly or coerced by "Crack Claw," or sensing the danger of extinction and actively moving towards the rift valley, all had to bring their families, carry large and small bundles, drive herds of livestock, and converge into streams of turbid water, surging towards the rift valley that resembled a scar on the earth.

Chief Gemar of the "Crack Claw" tribe is an elderly orc over sixty years old. He still looks quite strong, but he lost an eye in a battle when he was young, and the long scar on his face looks particularly ferocious.

Standing on the highest observation platform at the mouth of the valley, Gema scanned the bustling crowd below with his one eye.

"Have all the vassals arrived?"

"Chief, three medium-sized vassal tribes have arrived, but the little brat tribe is missing. I don't know if they were damaged by those hairless guys or if they ran away out of cowardice!"

The "hairless guys" naturally refer to humans, as they certainly can't compare to orcs in terms of hair coverage.

"It doesn't matter if a few of the smaller ones are missing!"

"Disperse all the soldiers they brought and incorporate them into our thousand-man squads. Keep a close eye on them and don't let them get together and cause any trouble."

"Yes!"

"This battle won't be easy, we must be careful!"

"Furthermore, all the food, dried meat, livestock, and other edible items they brought were confiscated and handed over to the tribal elders for distribution. At this time, we must not look after ourselves."

“Tell them to hold the canyon and drive away the hairless beasts, and I, Gemar, will compensate them double!”

"If anyone dares to harbor secrets or undermine morale..."

Gemar paused, not continuing, but the cold glint in his single eye clearly conveyed his meaning.

"By the way, the cavalry is useless in the canyon. Take them out, take them outside, and let them circle around a bit more to see if we can find an opportunity."

"Remember, without my orders, you are not allowed to engage in direct combat with the human race. Save your strength for a major battle."

It must be said that the old man's arrangement was quite methodical.

The collapse of the orcish autumn hunt army shook the entire plain and allowed these large tribes to gain some understanding of the tactics of the Vast Ocean Territory's troops through multiple channels. In particular, the large number of fleeing and scattered soldiers brought them first-hand information about the enemy.

A powerful magical army, steel behemoths on the water, support from sea creatures when they approach the riverbank, and all sorts of bizarre and unpredictable tactics.

Furthermore, they possess an extremely tenacious fighting spirit.

Therefore, from the very beginning, even with superior military strength, the "Crack Claw" tribe chose to defend itself to the death.

The orc cavalry of "Crack Claw" were scattered far across the plains, while light and heavy infantry were positioned in tiers to guard the mountains.

The warriors of the vassal tribes were scattered and mixed into the orc army of the "Crack Claw" headquarters;

The trees at the foot of the mountain were all cut down, and the old breastwork that was already standing there was greatly raised and thickened at the steepest part of the mountainside using tree trunks and boulders.

Every hundred meters or so, a sturdy totem pole stands. These poles were made by the tribe's shamans and witch doctors, with intricate patterns drawn on them using animal blood and rare mineral powder.

When the shaman performs the war dance and chants ancient songs, the totem pole emits a faint glow, causing orc warriors within range to feel their hearts race, their blood heat up, their courage surge, and even their wounds heal slightly faster.

These totem poles are difficult to make and require a firm foothold, making them inconvenient to move. However, when used on the defensive line, they serve as a source of morale and life support for the orc troops.

In front of the breastwork, the orcs used brute force to dig pits of varying depths into the mountainside. The bottom of the pits was densely filled with sharpened wooden stakes that had been hardened by fire, and they were also maliciously smeared with excrement.

Large quantities of stones and logs were piled up on the high platforms and depressions of the mountain, which could both block the narrow valley entrance and serve as heavy weapons to be launched against enemy troops attacking the mountain from below.

In some relatively flat areas where the terrain could be breached, rows of crude but quite effective barricades were set up.

This defensive system is clearly highly targeted, and it is definitely the result of careful consideration by a veteran general.

Clearly, from the painful lessons learned from the rout of Grum, Gemar figured out some ways to deal with the human tactics. He abandoned the foolish idea of ​​setting up camps in open areas to engage in direct confrontations, and instead moved away from the water, making use of all available terrain to build deep, multi-layered strongholds covered with obstacles.

In addition to their fixed defensive fortifications, the orcs' mobile defensive forces were also deployed flawlessly.

During the day, agile patrolmen shuttle back and forth; at night, the torches of the sentry posts are lit one after another.

Every so often, the old chief Gema would select a few dozen cubs from each tribe and take them up the mountain for a walk.

The little ones had never seen anything like this before. Forcibly brought away from their mother, they could only cry loudly in fear, their cries echoing long across the mountaintop.

Hearing their own cubs cry, the beastmen on the defensive line had bloodshot eyes, and the anger in their chests burned brighter and brighter, rising up with an uncontrollable frenzy of emotions, a mixture of protectiveness and destructive impulse.

That's exactly the effect Gemma wanted.

When Makaga first saw this defensive formation, he frowned deeply.

My lord has been very busy lately. After finishing the major military plan, he has devoted himself to the almost endless work of building and deploying his territory.

War is not just a matter for the military, especially for total war, which requires a huge amount of manpower and resources to be mobilized. Chen Mo could only temporarily hand over the front line to the generals who had been through many battles.

If it were a cold weapon-wielding unit, seeing this defensive posture would probably have made them want to retreat.

An infantry charge is impossible. According to the calculations of the Han Hai General Staff, it would take six to eight times the number of troops to break through this defensive line.

Fortunately, the Han Hai Territory still has artillery.

Macaga simply handed over White Rock Beach to the National Defense Forces. The main forces of the three brigades were deployed in a triangular formation, about five kilometers down from the foot of Crack Claw Canyon. The three positions formed a pincer movement, which could support each other and cover a large area in front with crossfire.

The artillery positions were arranged in the center of a triangular formation. To prevent the enemy from resorting to desperate measures, the field army dug two arc-shaped defensive trenches, one in front and one behind, around the perimeter of the positions. The trenches were connected by communication trenches, and hidden troop shelters, rest areas, dining areas, and medical stations were set up inside the trenches. After seeing the enemy's defensive line, Han Hai Territory was already prepared for a protracted war.

The start of a war is the calibration of artillery fire.

A dull roar broke the silence of the plain. Large-caliber mortars, along with a small number of heavy grenades, fired in staggered bursts, and after calibrating the impact points, began a continuous barrage of steel and fire.

Chief Gemar on the watchtower suddenly narrowed his single eye. He had seen the human ballistae and heard the whistling of catapults, but he had never experienced such a continuous roar, as if the wrath of Thor was at its peak.

Groom's defeated soldiers were right; the enemy's ranged weapons were far-reaching and deadly, far superior to catapults!

After a brief test launch, the real steel storm began.

"All units, high-explosive rounds, three rounds in rapid succession! Fire!"

A dense whistling sound blended together, leaving elegant trails across the sky. Then, a series of explosions resounded across the mountains of Crack Claw Canyon!

A high-explosive shell struck the crest of the breastwork squarely. The piled-up boulders and rammed earth shattered and collapsed like building blocks under the explosive kinetic energy, impaling the infantrymen behind the breastwork who had no time to react, turning them into large, bloody gourds.

Another shell hit a platform piled with wood and stones on the mountainside. After the loud bang, rocks scattered and rolled down, hitting not only the orcs carrying the load nearby, but also turning this pre-set anti-charge obstacle into a mess.

More sections of the breastworks burst into flames, and even the light of the totem poles could not suppress this pure, naked violence.

The mournful howls of the wounded orcs so clearly drowned out the roars of the orc generals.

The frontline defenders continued to respond swiftly.

"Tell the people on the mountain to retreat a little further! Hide behind the rocks! Have the children light the cigarettes they've prepared to cover their 'eyes'!"

The orcs began burning dried animal droppings, which had been soaked in a special liquid, on their positions on the hilltop. Soon, thick black smoke billowed up, enveloping most of the orc defenses.

This method is crude, but quite effective. With the field of vision completely blocked, the artillery cannot assess the effect of the incoming shells and can only conduct saturation firing according to the pre-marked area.

After completing one volley of fire, the artillerymen silently ceased firing.

Ammunition cannot be wasted like this. Currently, the supply lines of the Han Hai Command are much longer than those of the enemy.

The next day, the artillery units launched drones that plunged directly into the black smoke to conduct reconnaissance and guidance. The orcs' elite spearmen fired at these "birds" from behind the breastwork, achieving the first results for the orc forces.

Based on the video feedback and calculations, the artillery of Han Hai immediately launched a barrage of artillery fire.

The two sides were evenly matched: Han Hai lost several expensive drones, while "Liezhua" lost some elite orc soldiers.

On the third day, the elven archer, who was urgently dispatched to the scene, used a compound bow to channel wind magic in an attempt to forcibly dispel the enemy's smoke. The orcs on the other side countered by significantly increasing the density of the smoke's burning points.

HanHai's targeted strategy seemed to have some effect, but it didn't seem to have any real results.

The battle entered a grueling, drawn-out phase that was both physically and mentally exhausting.

Every night during this period, the orcs would attempt to launch night raids of varying scales, sometimes as concentrated assaults of thousands of men, and sometimes as scattered attacks by hundreds of ten-man squads. Although they all suffered heavy casualties and returned defeated in the face of the mines and trenches of the vast sea, they did force the field army to be on high alert at all times.

Thus, in the day-to-day standoff between attack, destruction, defense, and repair, the rock face of the Crack Claw Canyon facing the human race gradually became riddled with holes.

The collapse of large sections of the breastwork forced the orcs to abandon some of their most important forward positions. The continuous attacks put immense psychological pressure on the orcs, forcing "Crackclaw" to repeatedly dispatch supervisory teams and maintain the crumbling morale of the defensive line by constantly repairing the destroyed totem poles.

During this period, Han Hai also attempted to launch an infantry attack.

As expected, the fully armed heavy infantry barely made it close to the first line of defense before being pushed back by the orcs roaring behind the breastwork. These orc warriors, who had been holding back for a long time and were now bloodthirsty, even charged all the way to the front of the Han Hai Territory's position before being finally killed by heavy machine guns.

As time went by, the vast army achieved decent kill counts every day, but that was all it was—numbers.

The narrow passage at the canyon entrance was heavily guarded, with orc archers and shamans perched high on the rock walls on both sides, enough to block any forces attempting to break into the canyon.

After suffering continuous losses, the main position on the mountainside became even more complex and riddled with traps thanks to the orcs' frantic efforts.

After the initial panic, the orc warriors, under the dual pressure of the old chieftain and the overseer, amidst bloody casualties and endless explosions, became increasingly numb and ferocious.

As it turns out, without using ground troops to attack, simply bombing is not enough to defeat an enemy force that is determined to hold out and has well-prepared fortifications.

A batch of cannon barrels in the Hanhai Territory were destroyed and scrapped, and some locally cast cannon barrels even exploded.

The "Crack Claw" tribe stubbornly held on, carrying away the corpses from the front lines day after day, replacing them with new defensive forces time and time again, while counting their dwindling logs and medicines, and appeasing the restless leaders of their vassal tribes.

Meanwhile, he repeatedly looked out of the canyon into the depths of the Bailu Plain.

Both sides are waiting for the outcome of the battle.

Compared to the tense situation on the eastern front, the western front was progressing very smoothly. With the escort of shallow-water gunboats, the Han Hai army advanced upstream along the Huan Yan River, making rapid progress without stopping. They cut through the small and medium-sized tribes along the way and advanced to the foot of the mountain in the Bai Lu Restoration Society's controlled area, thus achieving a victorious rendezvous with the Restoration Society.

Under these circumstances, the command had to devote more energy to the west, to see if they could find another way out from the seven garrisoned tribes on the plain and find a new breakthrough.

We can't force our lord to take such a huge risk and use superweapons to fight these orcs.

In the midst of this stalemate, in early May of the second year of summer, thirteen days after the start of the Eastern Front Campaign, Chen Mo, who was inspecting the training of reserve troops, received an unbelievable message.

"Report—Reporting to Commander-in-Chief! Urgent report from the front!"

Chen Mo's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned and entered the office: "What is it? Speak!"

The communications soldier, panting heavily, presented a document still bearing the emergency communication markings with both hands, his voice trembling slightly.

"Reconnaissance units...urgent message! Detected...detected signs of a large-scale orc army movement! They...they are completing the encirclement of our Eastern Field Army!"

"Besides the orcs rushing to the battlefield, several orc units suddenly appeared on the battlefield and blocked the rear of my Eastern Field Army!"

"What? How is that possible?"

"Hasn't the Heavenly Eye been watching all along? Where did this enemy come from?"

Yes, where did the enemy come from?

[Jinghong] frantically deployed drones to the ground, and through reconnaissance regardless of losses, the overall deployment of these several large-scale orc forces came to light.

The enemy forces came from two directions: one from "Thunder Roar" and the other from "Sky Ridge." The main forces of the two tribes were rushing towards Crack Claw Canyon at full speed.

At the same time, two orc forces, each numbering around ten thousand, suddenly appeared on the battlefield. It is highly likely that they had been hiding in caves or underground in this area for a long time, and it is unknown how long they had been lying in wait.

Now, they suddenly appeared, cutting off the retreat route of the Han Hai troops.

"They feigned weakness, implemented a scorched-earth policy, and even staged an internal conflict to lure my troops to the foot of Crack Claw Canyon, before encircling and annihilating them in one fell swoop."

"What a brilliant plan...it's a damn brilliant plan."

Meanwhile, the news reached Riftclaw Canyon, where Chieftain "Ripclaw" Grimmar let out a wild and joyful laugh.

"Children! Did you hear that?! The orc warriors are coming!"

"Those foolish, arrogant humans, their time has come!"

"They think they can make our great orcs kill each other with a few shiny gold coins and a few divisive lies? Dream on!"

"A lowly slave shall always remain a slave!"

"Kids, cheer up!"

"For the tribe! For the glory of the Beast God and our ancestors! Tear them apart!"

(End of this chapter)