Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 388 Rift Valley Trenches Roaring with Machine Guns
There has always been criticism that Dongxia has no allies. Look at the G7 and G8, the multi-eyed alliance, how glorious they are.

But in reality, Dongxia has always been used to taking care of everything for itself.

Allies? Aren't they all just dragging us down?

Or to put it bluntly, the ruling group of Dongxia today has come a long way since the day it was born, having been betrayed countless times by so-called "allies".

Including the Long March, which can be described as a miracle, but in reality, it was a blood-soaked journey across the land.

At that time, the Red Lion, the leader with the pipe in his mouth, needed a powerful force to help him shield himself from the military pressure from the Four-Clawed Sea Serpent behind him. He needed a force in Dongxia that could lead the resistance.

On the surface, although the previous government of Dongxia was weak, it was undoubtedly the legitimate power. In order to satisfy its wish to "pacify the internal affairs" and free up its hands to deal with the Sea Serpent, the elites from the Red International quietly sent their painstakingly built base into the abyss.

Why did the remnants of the army force their way north to the front lines to confront the most ferocious four-clawed sea serpents? Because this was the best answer the commander could see: to escape a fate arbitrarily arranged by others, they had to take the initiative back into their own hands.

Often, whether or not we stand shoulder to shoulder has nothing to do with ideology, justice, or fairness.

Of course, similar things happened many times afterward. It can be said that the country of Dongxia rose up on its own, gritting its teeth and shedding blood, after being repeatedly betrayed and harmed by its enemies and "allies".

Guided by this strategic thinking, it can be seen that Dongxia was always prepared to be an enemy of the whole world.

Having inherited this, the Han Hai Territory naturally prepared contingency plans for all types of war well in advance.

But a plan is a plan, and reality is reality. The trap set by the orcs was, to a large extent, unexpected by the Vast Ocean Territory.

First of all, the "Crack Claw" tribe has very strong defensive capabilities.

The Hanhai Field Army has indeed entered the era of firearms, but its scale and size are relatively limited. When the defending side is determined and occupies advantageous terrain, even if the attacking side has an all-round advantage, it is very easy to be dragged into a stalemate.

If Han Hai dares to launch an attack, it may even be caught in a brutal meat grinder.

This is similar to the fierce battles fought between bald eagles and four-clawed sea serpents over islands, the most famous of which was the Battle of Iwo Jima.

At that time, the White Eagle Army, which was at the peak of its morale, had 110,000 troops, 38 aircraft carriers, 15 battleships, 25 cruisers, a total of more than 800 warships of various types, and more than 2,000 aircraft. To say that it had overwhelming firepower would be an inaccurate description.

As a result, the 20,000 remaining soldiers, who had no air force, no navy, poor equipment, and no supplies, besieged this small island, which was only a few kilometers long and wide, for a full 36 days. They won, but suffered more than 28,000 casualties.

It should be noted that the White Eagle Army at that time was definitely one of the top elite forces on the entire Blue Star.

Of course, later, this elite White Eagle force, with even greater firepower, clashed with another unit hailed as the pinnacle of human light infantry, and suffered an even worse defeat – they simply lost.

It is clear that absolute firepower does not equate to absolute strength, especially since the current Han Hai Territory is still far from possessing absolute firepower.

Thus, despite the continuous casualties, the "Crack Claw" tribe forcibly kept the troops of the Vast Ocean Territory outside the canyon.

If the battlefield situation continues like this, it will only demonstrate the orcs' toughness. However, the other two tribes, who have always been at odds with the Crackclaws and even had some ambiguous relationship with the Vast Ocean Territory, suddenly launched their attack after a long period of preparation, and seized the opportunity to attack Vast Ocean Territory.

From a holistic perspective, this was indeed a brilliantly executed move.

It was so good that Chen Mo couldn't help but shout "Bravo!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Walking in the early summer morning sunlight, Rod Ironspine felt a long-lost sense of comfort and ease permeating every pore of his body.

As the commander-in-chief of the "Thunder Roar" tribe, the esteemed commander of ten thousand, the more than one month he had spent in the darkness of a mountain cave was the greatest humiliation of his glorious career.

His once glossy, sleek brown-black striped fur, which exuded the majesty of the Thunder Tiger Clan, was now covered in mud and grime in the damp, dark cave, matted and infested with an unbearable number of lice.

Most of the time, he could only squeeze into a small space with his most elite soldiers, rummaging through each other's fur, searching for the source of the itching, and then pinching it with a "snap" of his sharp nails.

When it "slaps," there's a slight feeling of pleasure, but then comes an endless itching.

Damn it! This is no place for soldiers!

Now, it has finally seen the light of day again.

He squinted slightly in the warm sunlight, his pupils shrinking into a vertical line, as he leisurely surveyed the vast Bailu Plain before him.

Wild grasses grew lush and swayed in the wind, the air filled with the fragrance of earth and grass. Iron Spine's gaze finally settled on the northeast, where those reckless human invaders were located.

The tribe had been planning this deadly trap against the Vast Ocean Territory ever since the day Grum was defeated.

The chiefs of the three tribes secretly met together for a small meeting and, under the guidance of some "wise men," began preparations for war ahead of schedule.

The human forces were genuinely overjoyed and excited about the campaign against the orcs in the Vast Ocean Territory, but this excitement was limited to the lower ranks.

The top elites of various countries felt deeply uneasy about this matter.

The Starry World is already too crowded, so crowded that no one wants to see such a powerful new force suddenly emerge, especially since this force is too self-contained and has no vested interests with other countries, large or small.

Therefore, when the young men set off towards the vast sea with their own weapons, no one knew exactly how many noble envoys had visited the White Deer Plain.

In any case, the entire scheme was filled with the dark and profound scheming style of the human race.

They're nothing like us orcs, who like to go straight for the kill with their swords and hammers.

It really works very well...

Behind Rod Ironspine stood 7,500 carefully selected tribal warriors. Like him, they were scratching their itchy skin with their claws, baring their teeth and shaking their long hair, wishing the sun would be even hotter so they could have a comfortable, high-temperature sunbath.

"Aww! I'm finally alive!"

"I feel like mushrooms have grown out of my fur!"

"Quick, bro, help me check my back, ahhh, I can't reach it!"

When have orcs ever felt so frustrated?

When news of a possible attack from the south arrived, "Thunder Roar" began a covert military mobilization, selecting the tribe's most elite warriors and gathering them in the mountains through various means.

They either broke up into smaller groups, disguised themselves as wandering orcs or small raiding parties, and disappeared silently into the mountains like drops of water falling into the sea when passing through the mountains.
Some formed small teams of about ten people, hiding during the day and going out at night, avoiding possible sight, sneaking into the hidden troop pits they had already scouted out like groundhogs, and then quietly moving to the caves.
Others were passing by with the patrol team. Eight hundred men came, and seven hundred and ninety left, leaving behind ten brave warriors without a trace...

There was no way around it; the intelligence brought by those "collaborators" clearly supported the claim that the human force in the south called Han Hai possessed a strange ability to observe the plains from a distance and over a wide area, much like a magical eye with an extremely large coverage area.

Only by acting furtively can one possibly avoid the gaze of that "eye".

The entire operation was conducted with secrecy as the primary focus.

Iron Spine also heard that to their east, there was an elite force from "Motianling" hidden, and even the commander of ten thousand did not know their location.

Both units had only one mission: to rush to their designated positions and block the retreat of the human forces when the plains orcs launched their siege, thus buying time for the main force of the tribe to encircle them.

Meanwhile, the main armies of "Thunder Roar" and "Sky Ridge" will come out in full force, surrounding and crushing this human army, which is without food or ammunition, without reinforcements, cut off from supplies, and trapped in the lowlands, on the plain where they chose to land.

A perfect plan. The only downside is... the waiting time is too long.

"Quickly, everyone, start running!"

"Are your joints rusty? Take bigger steps, keep up!"

A rough roar came from ahead. It was his lieutenant, an old general named Lurg from the Zhenshan family. The old man's sideburns were already a bit gray, but his eyes were still sharp. At this moment, he was jogging along, kicking a few orcs who were moving a little too slowly, urging the whole army to hurry up. Ironback shook his fur again and moved closer.

"I heard that quite a few 'Crack Claw' have died recently?"

"That's right, General!"

Rurger kicked a slow-moving guy away and replied, "According to the intelligence sent by the tribe, in just these few days, the 'Crack Claw' guarding the mountain has had at least thirteen or fourteen thousand-man squads crippled. The corpses are almost covering the mountain."

"Old Gemar... he's a tough character. Is he just going to hold out like this?"

“I’m holding on!” Lurger spat, his facial muscles twitching a few times, seemingly incredulous as well.

"But it wasn't all for nothing. We managed to find out pretty much everything about those hairless monkeys on the other side."

"The chieftains said that these humans are very weak, relying entirely on their fire-breathing arrows,"

“Their transport convoys travel every six days. If we cut off these arrows, they will be nothing but trembling lambs before the tribe’s warriors!”

As Rhodes hurried forward with the group, he asked curiously, "So, you've timed it perfectly, and the enemy's arrows are about to run out?"

"There shouldn't be many left. Old Gemar has endured such heavy casualties and held on until now, wasn't he just waiting for this opportunity?"

"By the way, the family specifically instructed us not to rush forward recklessly. We should block the road so they can't get away and prevent them from bringing anything in!"

"The army at home will be arriving soon!"

"General, do you think those cattle are reliable? I heard they have good relations with the humans?"

Rod Ironspine snorted and said gruffly, "Don't worry, business is business, and war is war. They're two different things. Those cows know what's going on!"

"Make sure the children get a little more focused!"

"After I take down these hairless guys, I need to go back and give myself a thorough cleaning!"

"Hmm, it needs to soak for three days, no, five days!"

And so, this elite "Thunder Roar" force, which suddenly appeared, charged forward like tigers descending a mountain, blocking the core supply route of the Vast Ocean Territory and cutting off the transportation route.

Another Niu Clan unit even planned to flank and cut off the transport team's retreat, but fortunately, the "Sky Eye" system of the Vast Ocean Territory detected it in time and urgently notified them to relocate, thus managing to bring the transport team back.

The battlefield situation became clear. At this moment, to the north of the Han Hai forces, the allied forces of "Crack Claw" and more than a dozen tribes under his command were holding the canyon and waiting for an opportunity.

Behind them were two elite orc forces totaling about 15,000 to 16,000 men, who, while cutting off land supplies, also blocked the field army's route back to Bailangtan.

Meanwhile, on the outer perimeter, the main forces of the "Skyreach" and "Thunder Roar" orcs are rushing to Crackclaw Canyon at top speed to complete the final encirclement and achieve complete annihilation.

So, what should Hanhailing do?
Break through?
Macaka overturned the table right there in the trench.

What a shame!

At this moment, the young centaur commander was still unaware of the enemy's specific deployment, but just looking at what was in front of him, he was being outmaneuvered by two armies of tens of thousands of men. For the Han Hai military system, this was an absolute disgrace.

Although the Hanhai Field Army was prepared from the beginning to take on all forces in the entire Bailu Plain, it does not mean that you can actually surround me!
go?
That is impossible.

Commander Kaga had a phone call with Chen Mo that lasted for over fifty minutes, a call that, according to the standard rates, could bankrupt the entire field army, before issuing a menacing order!

That day, the daily artillery bombardment on the field army's positions stopped as usual, and everyone began digging trenches.

From the beginning, the field army has been arranged in a triangular, multi-faceted defensive formation. Now, they are preparing to add at least two more trenches on top of the existing inner and outer double trenches.

Outside the trenches, mines were laid, barbed wire was strung, and pits were dug!
"One trench, and the orcs had to use 20,000 lives to fill it!"

The integrated artillery group was reassigned to the field brigade to provide support in various directions, while the site of the original central artillery position was rapidly leveled to build a field airfield.

Of course, "Crack Claw" wouldn't let Han Hai conduct construction so comfortably. That night, the battlefield was bustling like never before.

The night was filled with clouds, obscuring the stars and moon, burying the light of day, and completely covering the plains outside Crack Claw Canyon. The wind howled through the mountains, and compared to the usual stench of blood, it seemed to carry a warmer, more comforting scent.

Just after midnight, the first piercing howl of a beast shattered the silence.

The howls did not come from one place, but rather erupted simultaneously from the darkness in several directions, the sounds layered upon each other, like the calls of a wolf pack, instantly sending chills down one's spine.

The orcs spread out their formation very loosely, forming a skirmish line six kilometers wide, and under the cover of night, they rushed towards the positions of the Vast Sea Territory.

On the battlefield of the Hanhai Field Army, the bright beams of searchlights, like long white sticks, slowly swept across the pits and barbed wire at the front of the position. The soldiers gripped their guns tightly. On the heavy machine gun position, the assistant gunner, under the dim cover of light, silently straightened and connected the yellow ammunition belts.

The observation post kept reporting the location until a certain moment.

"Illumination flare! One kilometer directly ahead! Fire!"

The frontline commander shouted at the top of his lungs, and with a series of rhythmic firing sounds, more than a dozen flares swayed and rose into the night sky, bursting open after reaching their peak and illuminating the front line of the position in a snowy white.

Under the halo of light, the dark, swarming orc figures resembled a mudslide cascading down a mountain. There were no orderly ranks, no battle flags or drums, only a wild and swift charge.

These orc soldiers, with their eyes red, crouched low and used the undulating terrain to leap, roll, and run at great speed, with clear targets.

The roar of light and heavy machine guns instantly dominated the battlefield.

Blazing flames spewed from firing ports and behind bunkers, leaving dazzling trajectories in the darkness.

The orcs at the forefront fell in rows, their blood mist exploding into dark red puffs in the light of the flares. But the orcs behind them seemed oblivious to the deaths of their comrades; the tide of their charge never stopped, surging forward wave after wave.

The orc troops were spread out several hundred meters apart, divided into several waves. They were armed with simple wooden shields, bamboo spears, and even stone axes and bone blades. Their only goal was to draw the enemy's fire and deplete the defenders' ammunition.

Through such a long period of mutual "training-in," they have gained a good understanding of the defenders' firepower configuration and reaction patterns. They are also very familiar with the few seconds of darkness between the launch of the flares and their full illumination.

Some extremely brave orc warriors even used the corpses of their companions or themselves as human shields, crawling or rolling forward in a charge, until they were turned into new human shields by crossfire, and then lifted up by the next orc.

The next few hours became a textbook example of a war of attrition.

The orcs' attacks became increasingly erratic, sometimes consisting of small groups of dozens of people infiltrating from multiple directions, and sometimes of hundreds of people launching a massive attack. However, it was clear that the intensity of each wave was weaker than the last.

But it never stopped.

As dawn approached, the orcs finally ceased their endless, deadly charge.

On the front lines, sporadic gunfire still rang out, as snipers and sentries cleared out the few remaining orcs lingering at the front or still wriggling, finishing off the remaining orcs on the battlefield.

Thick gunpowder smoke mixed with the smells of blood and earth filled the damp morning air.

That night, the Crackclaw orcs launched more than thirty night raids, leaving more than four thousand corpses on the front line, but they also greatly depleted the defenders' ammunition and flares.

"Crack Claw" seems to have a plan: to seize some of the spoils before the enemy arrives, such as capturing a position!
With so many warriors already dead and the tribe severely weakened, Old Gemar felt that in the future, they should be able to get a larger share of the spoils.

If the "Cracked Claw" tribe has a future...

(End of this chapter)