Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 493 Report on the Divine Soldiers' Bombing of the Blood and Fire Fortress (A Long Chapter of 10,000 Words, Please Vote)

If the civil and military officials and generals within the territory of Han Hai Territory felt as if the arrival of this "divine army" was like a thunderous roar, then those outside Han Hai Territory felt as if the earth were splitting and the sky was collapsing.

Chen Mo had informed all countries in advance about the "calling for help" action.

As agreed upon in advance with the Dongxia [Cihang] Engineering Office, a few hours before the altar opened, Hanhai, in the name of the Xiayue Alliance, invited representatives from various countries and forces on the Starry Continent to issue a diplomatic note with rather formal wording.

The reason for such a tight timeframe is mainly due to two factors.

First, Chen Mo was not entirely sure what kind of troops he could borrow from his hometown this time. In his eyes, there were too many uncontrollable factors.

For example, in the cursed land, in the area controlled by the lord of the underworld, is it possible to open a safe passage?

For example, after the Bloodline Altar is activated, will the life forms in Dongxia be able to safely pass through the portal?

Spanning two sectors and involving multiple parties, although the plan had been repeatedly considered and carefully confirmed, significant variables could still exist. Therefore, Chen Mo's notification to various countries was not only vague but also rushed.

He hoped that representatives from all parties would not have time to arrive at the scene to observe, and that they would only need to see the "press release" issued by Hanhai afterward, which would ensure safety and controllability!

The person responsible for convening this briefing was Chief Councillor Helan.

The reception hall of the Hanhai City Council was filled with guests on both sides of the long table, with heroes from all walks of life gathered together.

The perpetually disdainful, brow-frowning, glaring nobleman of Qiyue; the Mist Moon priest, draped in a plain white bishop's robe, muttering incantations; the ever-smiling, inherently arrogant foreign affairs official of the Sky Dome Empire; the ragged mercenary from the Mirror Lake Kingdom, constantly searching for work; and the two dwarf merchant guild representatives, perched on high stools, wearing melon-shaped hats with the tips barely protruding from the edge of the table…

Of course, the various tribes of Xiyue, which are originally part of the Summer Moon Alliance, the Silver Moon Elves, and the neutral but friendly Duchy of Silver are also included.

Even the envoy from the Jade Kingdom, who had been feigning illness while hiding in the post station, arrived at the scene at some unknown time, quietly sitting in a corner, almost burying his head in his crotch.

The crowd greeted each other or rolled their eyes, creating a very "joyful" atmosphere.

Helan stood in the main seat, straightened his collar, cleared his throat, and got straight to the point.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have invited you here today to report on an important matter."

"Previously, the evil forces led by the Twilight Tower colluded with the Underworld and forcibly opened a continuous teleportation channel to the Underworld in my territory of Qingfeng Mountain in the Vast Ocean. This has resulted in a large influx of undead creatures, which are now rampaging across my Vast Ocean territory."

"I have already explained this to various countries and forces, and have received their moral support!"

That's a very skillful way of putting it.

What does moral support mean? It means that there isn't enough support beyond the realm of morality.

According to the ideas of the Han Hai Territory Council, the invasion of the Underworld is a major event for the Starry World, and all countries should share the responsibility and work together.

Helan's original words were: those with money contribute money, those without money contribute troops, those with equipment contribute equipment, and those without equipment contribute minerals...

If you have nothing, go and ask the Jade Kingdom to collect the money that Princess Liushuang owes me. That would be considered as your support.

But apart from a few individuals who expressed a tiny bit of sentiment, the rest just laughed it off.

That's the reality. The underworld army will probably only be here for a few days or ten days. The corrosive field and the cursed earth will probably not even be able to cover Dingshan County. As for how nervous the various countries are, that's definitely not the case.

This kind of thing has happened more than once in ancient history. Basically, whoever gets caught up in it is unlucky, and whoever watches from the sidelines is just watching the show.

Other countries are considered to have a conscience if they don't kick someone when they're down; taking pleasure in someone's misfortune is just common sense among nations.

In fact, the representative of Jade had privately muttered, "Why don't they go after others? It's because they're too wicked!" As soon as he said that, he was immediately reported to the Han Hai Council by representatives of more than a dozen forces.

People are very generous with this kind of support that doesn't cost them anything.

Now, Helan brought up the old matter again, but no one was interested. Helan didn't dwell on it, quickly moving on and changing the subject:
"The main reason I've invited everyone here today is to discuss the matter of defeating the orcs."

"?"

Everyone was stunned for a moment.

Whom are we attacking?
Helan paused slightly, surveyed the scene, and then formally announced: "This invasion of the Underworld is not a natural disaster, but a man-made one. In addition to the already confirmed Twilight Tower, there is another mastermind hiding behind the scenes."

"The Orcish Royal Court, the Goldenmane Tribe!"

Then, Helan projected several images onto the magic marble in the hall.

The orc representative, Bloodfang, roared fiercely in the Twilight Temple. His tall figure, ferocious fangs, and the iconic totems on his face and neck were clearly visible, making Belial's crippled and frail body look rather pitiful.

The list of supplies and gold coins provided by the orcs to the Twilight Tower, bloodstained pelts and materials from the orcish wasteland, a huge bundle carried by a frost wolf, and letters bearing the orcish claw symbol...

There is plenty of information available.

Some of the images were obtained from the Temple of Twilight using secret codes provided by Belial; others were created by using the AI ​​system of the Vast Ocean to capture images of characters and inputting them into a script for scene reconstruction.

As Beria said, if the facts are true, then whether the evidence is true or false is not important.

The Han Hai and the orcs have no diplomatic relations, and there is no representative of the Wilderness Royal Court in Han Hai City. Would the countries present really defend those beasts?
Therefore, the trial of the orcs in absentia was completed directly.

"Orcs are shameless!"

"These barbarians have committed countless crimes against our human race, their sins are heinous, their crimes are utterly heinous!"

"The orcs actually resorted to such underhanded tactics! I'll send a letter to them right away and demand that they be severely reprimanded!"

The crowd was outraged—at least that's how it appeared.

Helan waited for a while, and seeing that everyone's statements and performances were basically in place, before slowly and deliberately delivering the core content of this report.

"The orcs' heinous behavior is truly unforgivable!"

"I, Chairman Xia Yue and Lord of the Vast Ocean, intend to request support from the Industrial King and the God of Eastern Xia to launch a punitive action against the orcs!"

"This is a formal announcement regarding the above matters!"

Everyone looked at each other.

That's it?

Divine assistance is not uncommon in the Starry World. Each country has its own gods, each race has its own gods, and even halflings and the Dune Clan have their own gods to worship.

Praying before a battle is perfectly normal.

However, the phrase "a little support"...

Something sounds weird.

"May I ask the Councilor of Helan..." the smiling Sky Representative asked with clasped hands, "what exactly does this so-called 'little bit of support' refer to?"

Helan shook his head: "How could I possibly know about the agreement between the lord and the gods?"

"However, please rest assured, the lord has stated beforehand that there will be no professionals above the second job advancement level, and they will only be heading towards the orcs, which will not have any impact on any country."

"It's just a matter of hiring some soldiers and equipment to launch some ranged attacks to the north."

"You have all seen the weapons of the industrial god."

Regardless of whether people like Han Hai or not, they still believe what Chen Mo says.

Only fighting orcs? Then it's fine!
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.

Despite the time difference, representatives from several factions still managed to arrive at the foot of Qingfeng Mountain to request assistance, and of course, to observe the ceremony.

Bishop Farrell of the Misty Moon Divine Court, Chen Ye's nephew from the Sky Empire, Elder Zegen of the Stream Moon Tribe, Elder Ysera of the Silver Moon Elves...

Oh, and there's also General Jelly, who was just called over to receive an award for his outstanding achievements. His current status is somewhere between the Vast Ocean and the Silver Moon, and his affiliation is not yet fully determined.

The reason these people were able to arrive on time is because they were already there.

A horde of undead appeared on the White Deer Plain. As representatives of friendly forces, all parties immediately dispatched familiar faces to the foot of Qingfeng Mountain to express their support and condolences to Han Hai.

Thus, they arrived at the grand ceremony that summoned the Eastern Xia army.

There was no other way; people were already waiting at the foot of the mountain, and we couldn't just stop them from seeing it.

After much deliberation, Chen Mo decided against letting them enter the scene to observe, fearing that something might be amiss. So, he set up a viewing platform for them on the periphery.

It was called a viewing platform, but it was really just a simple wooden frame with a sunshade on top. There were a few rattan chairs and a coffee table on it, with tea and snacks on the table. A group of people were eating and drinking on the platform, and even started a game of mahjong. Jelly, who was new to the event and only qualified to watch, was extremely envious.

"Elder Ysera, you are the oldest and most knowledgeable person here. What kind of help do you think our Chairman can bring in?"

It was Old Zegen who spoke. The old man casually played a 20,000, which just happened to fall into Ysera's hand. Ysera's finger slid, lightly touched it, and pushed out a card.

"Five points! How could we possibly fathom the Chairman's thoughts?"

"However, I think the chairman probably wasn't entirely confident, and didn't know what kind of support the gods would provide, which is why he made us wait outside."

"After all, the warriors under the gods also have to fight in various places, and it is not certain that they can send powerful warriors in such a short time."

"Makes sense!"

Chen Ye, in the lower position, drew and played a card with clean and efficient movements. He then looked up with a hint of curiosity on his face: "Elder Ysera, what rank of warrior do you think will come? Seventh rank? Eighth rank?"

"It's hard to say," Isera pondered. "If we're dealing with orcs, we need to be at least at the seventh or eighth rank, otherwise it'll just be suicide."

"Is it possible for a ninth-tier one to appear?"

"Ninth-tier is unlikely; the laws of the world are not well able to accept power of that level..."

The mahjong tiles were being pushed around with a clattering sound, while in the distance, the Vast Ocean and the Undead were playing a game of ping-pong.

Until a certain moment, everyone turned to look in the southwest direction.

Those with higher cultivation levels sensed the spiritual energy fluctuations there, while those with lower cultivation levels, seeing everyone else looking, unconsciously turned their heads away.

"The summoning has begun!"

A beam of azure light descended from the sky.

Summoning from a location where the psionic barrier has been removed produces a much greater commotion. The light initially appears as a tiny dot, like a star falling from the sky, faint and distant. But just a few seconds later, it transforms into a towering pillar of light, piercing straight into the heavens.

The beam of light grew darker and darker, gradually turning into a deep blue, almost purple. It rose from the ground, piercing the clouds, as if to tear the entire sky apart, echoing the black line connecting heaven and earth on the distant mountain peaks.

That's the passage to the underworld.

Portals that can persist in existence tend to cause a great deal of disturbance. This is a self-protective mechanism of the world's laws—the greater the scale, the harder it is to hide, and the easier it is for local forces to discover and deal with them.

"What a huge door!"

Ordinary summoning gates, used to summon individual combatants, are usually only one or two meters wide. When encountering particularly large creatures, such as summoning a large flesh and blood giant from the underworld, a width of five or six meters is about right, since the wider the gate, the greater the energy consumption.

But the width of this beam of light... compared to the passage to the underworld next to it, it was like a bamboo pole stuck next to a door.

At least thirty meters!
"More than that, it could be over fifty meters."

Isera was the first to stand up. She pushed her cards aside and led the way to the railing, gazing into the distance.

The group stood up, and soon, a line of light wheeled armored vehicles emerged from the mountain valley at the edge of their line of sight.

This was the vanguard of the alert force. They sped forward along the fast road where flags had already been planted and guards had been stationed.

After the establishment of the Bailu prefectures, due to the lord's completely different style, they spared no effort in road construction. If the Hanhai army spent half its time marching and half its time fighting, then the laborers and laborers of each prefecture spent half their time building roads and the other half transporting war supplies on the completed roads.

Therefore, this wide road leading straight to the north could barely withstand the test of mechanized troops.

After the escort convoy passes, the main convoy will begin.

Trucks loaded with infantry, flatbed trailers towing tanks and heavy artillery, all sorts of transport vehicles, and some strange, oddly shaped vehicles with incomprehensible functions.

"They're all ordinary people!"

A guard from Xiyue shook his head dismissively: "With that kind of strength, I could crush a whole bunch of them with one hand."

"Nothing much to see, just the same old thing!"

"That's just a case of making up for a lack of strength with weapons."

The entourage behind him chattered amongst themselves, but the bigwigs standing in the front row remained silent.

Ysera's gaze wasn't on the weapons, but on the people.

He was indeed an ordinary person, an ordinary person whose spiritual energy cultivation showed no trace whatsoever.

But why is this murderous aura so intense?
Sitting upright, rifles in hand, fully armed, their young faces, with sharp, piercing eyes, gleamed in the afternoon sun.

They rolled forward along the north-south official road of Hanhai Territory, their tires leaving dark ruts in the dust on the road. But no matter how bumpy the vehicle was, no matter whether the onlookers on both sides of the road were laughing or exclaiming, their eyes never wavered for a moment.

It was as if they were not flesh and blood, but rather motionless statues.

Those who know how to appreciate it will see the details; those who don't will just enjoy the spectacle.

Gradually, those who had been watching the spectacle fell silent.

Because these attacking forces are endless and inexhaustible.

A simple assessment from various countries suggests that a single "pseudo-magic" war chariot from the Vast Ocean is roughly equivalent to a three-person magic squad in terms of offensive capability, but slightly inferior in terms of defense.

How many magicians are there on the continent?

How many "pseudo-magic" war chariots are there here?

Three or five vehicles, a dozen or so, a hundred or a thousand vehicles...

A torrent of iron-gray water surged from the foot of Qingfeng Mountain, stretching wildly northward along the official road. The wheels rolled, dust billowed, and the roaring sound made the entire viewing platform tremble slightly.

Between heaven and earth, it seemed as if all other sounds had been suppressed and annihilated, leaving only the roar of engines, shaking the entire earth.

Looking forward and backward from the viewing platform, three such columns extend northward from Qingfeng Mountain, resembling three giant steel dragons speeding along.

As the line grew longer and longer, the dragon's head had condensed into a thin black line, while the rear continued to emerge, as if its tail would never be seen.

The entire march proceeded smoothly without the slightest pause or obstruction.

"This...this is 'some support'?"

This is like bringing in an entire divine kingdom!
While everyone was still in a daze, suddenly, a huge shriek came from the sky.

From the depths of the valley on the southern slope of Qingfeng Mountain, dozens of large steel birds took off, formed a neat formation, and flew north at an extremely fast speed.

Bomber formations were deployed.

The attack has begun!

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.

For the Savage Stone Gate, a key gateway to the Orcish Wasteland, this day was supposed to be a clear, sunny day filled with the fragrance of flowers.

Guarding this place is the orc general, the golden-armored warlord, the crusher Broxigar.

As a warlord-level orc leader second only to the Great Chieftain, Broxigar was a hybrid, and even more so a human-orc hybrid. In the eyes of orcs who placed great importance on bloodlines, this was simply unbelievable.

Of course, every outcome has its cause.

First, the human bloodline within the Broxigar is already extremely thin.

According to the chief witch doctor, if you count with both hands together eight times in a row, then with so many fingers standing upright, the dirty blood of humans in Brox's body would at most occupy one of those fingers.

By the way, the Great Healer has four toes on each hand.

Most orcs couldn't figure out the exact number, but it sounded like a very, very small amount.

Since the chief witch doctor had said so, no one dared to delve into it further, after all, this person was the witch doctor's grandson.

Secondly, although his bloodline has some blemishes, Broxigar's loyalty to the orcs is spotless.

Of all the orc warlords, Broxigar was the most ruthless warlord against humans, without exception.

Within the Crusher's sight, no human could remain intact, not even the "No Return" who had surrendered to the orcs.

For so many years, the orcs and humans have been at war, and the various warlords have repeatedly gone south for spring and autumn hunts, taking turns to launch attacks. But this Crusher Broxigar has never been sent out even once.

The rulers of the Orcish court were worried that if he were to travel through the White Deer Plains, there would be no living humans left on the plains.

So, despite his incredibly brave fighting, Broxigar was forced to remain confined to the orcish wasteland, repeatedly gazing south and roaring with heart-wrenching agony.

The chief said that he would only consider releasing him when he could control himself.

But he couldn't.

The trace of human genes in his body had become an excruciating pain for Brox, forcing him to prove that he had severed ties with tainted blood through repeated acts of cruelty and slaughter against humans, human-beast hybrids, and all other "unclean" beings who appeared to be human.

He's not just out of control, he's completely out of control!
And so, the Crusher Brox remained stuck in the wasteland, year after year.

Now, the opportunity has finally come.

A human pioneer lord who suddenly appeared out of nowhere "invaded" the entire White Deer Plain.

Broxigarst, the most loyal of them all, was given the opportunity to guard the Savage Stone Gate.

Just now, Thunderbirds delivered intelligence that a human army is advancing towards the orc wasteland and has already taken down the forward outposts beneath it.

Brox himself came to the fortress walls, looking down at the sturdy fortress that had served as the gateway to the wasteland for hundreds of years.

The city walls, built of massive stones, are twenty meters high and wide enough to host a gladiatorial contest. The watchtowers atop the walls are made of solid ironwood, covered with anti-magic stone slabs, said to withstand at least dozens of rounds of bombardment from mid-level magic.

The city was filled with mountains of grain and ample water, fierce battles raged like rain, and valiant generals were as numerous as clouds.

Humans?

Come on. He bent down, picked an unknown little yellow flower from a crack in the city wall, carefully held it between his fingers, brought it to his large, moist nostrils, took a gentle sniff, and a look of intoxication appeared on his face.

The surrounding orc soldiers all lowered their heads.

The warlord's old habits have resurfaced.

It is said that this is because of the trace of human blood in his body, and he would be "gentle" for a short while before each battle.

After the tenderness is over, it's time to kill.

Soon, Brox raised his head, rubbed his hands together, and the pale yellow flower turned into a cloud of powder that drifted away in the wind.

The Crusher clenched his fists tightly; every muscle in his body was itching for action!
Then, he heard a whooshing sound coming from the horizon.

The shrieking sound grew louder as it approached. At first, it was just a faint tremor on the horizon, like the buzzing of a mosquito, but after only a few breaths, the sound transformed into a thunderous roar that tore through the sky.

The sound came from high above.

The first bomber squadron from Dongxia has arrived.

The orc soldiers of the Savage Stone Gate all looked up, searching the southern sky. With their excellent eyesight, the orc captains at the forefront were the first to spot the enemy.

One by one, black dots emerged from the thick clouds, swooping down from the sky at incredible speed, reaching the top of the Savage Stone Gate in almost an instant.

Those strange things had wings like birds, stretched out motionless, their bellies bulging like pregnant chickens.

After reaching a certain altitude, these "giant birds" began to lay their eggs.

A row of tiny black dots, detached from the bellies of the giant birds, swooped down toward the solid fortress with an even more piercing shriek that grew louder as it approached.

Those selected for the first sortie were the ace pilots of the Dongxia Air Force, handpicked and honed through countless trials, their skill proficiency unparalleled.

To put it simply, given complete meteorological information and accurate wind direction and atmospheric density data, they can drop a weighted solid steel ball into the goal of a football field from an altitude of over 6,000 meters.

This is far superior to those guys from Dongxia who actually play football.

In order to maximize the damage effect, and with absolute confidence in their own technology, they did not even use precision-guided weapons in the first round, but only inertial-guided bombs.

The first aerial bomb landed precisely on the watchtower at the edge of the desolate stone gate, and the 500 kilograms of high explosives detonated the moment they hit the tower.

The moment the firelight blazed, the massive stone watchtower, which had stood for over five hundred years, seemed to be snapped in two by an invisible giant hand, sending rubble and wooden beams flying in all directions.

A small squad of elite orc sentinels inside the tower didn't even have time to make a sound before they were turned into a blood mist in the shockwave, mixing with the rubble and scattering across the land a hundred paces away, reflecting eerie rainbows in the sunlight.

Then came the second, the third, the tenth, and the hundredth.

The bomber group, in formation of three aircraft per group, formed a neat tactical formation and rapidly dived from an airspace of 8,000 to 10,000 meters to enter the bombing airspace at an altitude of about 6,000 meters.

The bomb bay door opened, and bombs from the racks poured down, precisely covering the front half of the Savage Stone Gate Fortress under the influence of gravity.

The explosions were continuous and without pause, and the rising flames turned the afternoon sky orange-red.

The earth is trembling, groaning, tearing, and shattering!
The biggest achievement of the first round of attacks came from the training ground inside the Savage Stone Gate.

Six thousand-strong beast corps were gathered there, orc wolf riders ready to attack at any time.

Even in such fortress defense battles, the value of cavalry is irreplaceable. Once the enemy deploys their siege formation, these brutal cavalry can charge out at top speed to raid the enemy's siege weapons or mage squads.

At the very least, it can break up the enemy's defensive formation, creating conditions for other orc units to launch an attack.

Those capable of carrying out such missions are the most elite orc cavalry.

Their elite forces destroyed them.

Despite the loud explosions outside and the wolves beginning to stir and howl restlessly, the orc cavalrymen firmly controlled their mounts, remaining in place and ready to rest.

Before receiving the warlord's orders, all they needed to do was conserve their energy and build up their strength.

Then, death fell from the sky.

At least two squadrons, consisting of six bombers, launched a bombing raid on the training ground. Even the escorting fighters, after confirming the radar signal, unleashed a barrage of air-to-ground missiles from under their wings.

The missile, launched later, arrived first and hit the bullseye.

At the epicenter of the explosion, dozens of orcs and their dire wolves were instantly vaporized. Their flesh and bones were directly vaporized in the high temperature, leaving not a trace except for a few black marks on the ground.

In a slightly outer area, the shockwave spread outwards at supersonic speed, tearing flesh and blood to shreds as easily as paper wherever it passed.

The severed limbs of the orc and the dire wolf flew dozens of meters into the air, their internal tissues and organs squeezed out from the gaps cut by shrapnel, mingling with the foul-smelling blood and splattering onto the scorched ground.

A physically strong wolf rider captain withstood the first wave of flames and bravely withstood the cutting of shrapnel, but one explosion after another rang out on the training ground, eventually breaking through his defenses, which were as fragile as a candle in the wind.

The crisscrossing shockwaves lifted the orc captain up like a rag doll, shook him, swung him around, and tossed him back and forth in the raging air currents, finally slamming him heavily against the city wall more than ten meters away, breaking his bones and spurting blood.

He wasn't quite dead yet. He struggled to lift his head and saw the spinning fins of another bomb, reflecting a cold luster in the sunlight.

Brox, standing on the city wall, suddenly had blood spurt from the corner of his eye.

His elite cavalry force, a full six thousand elite wolf riders, was slaughtered in this inferno of iron and fire without any warning or even understanding of the enemy's attack patterns.

The continuous explosions turned the training ground into a graveyard filled with charred craters, and everywhere there was still burning, sticky substance—a mixture of fur, clothing, and body fat from the Dire wolves and Orcs.

And emanating a strong fragrance from these flames were orc arms, dire wolf legs, shattered heads, broken spines...

Inside the walls of the Savage Stone Gate, after their initial shock, the orc warriors began to run frantically.

Some people desperately rushed up the city wall, some searched everywhere for cover, some knelt on the ground in a daze, murmuring prayers to the beast god, and some orc warriors rode dragons into the air, trying to attack these "demons" in the sky.

"Despicable! Despicable!"

Smasher Broxigar leaped angrily onto the command tower at the highest point of the fortress and roared to the sky.

Although several aerial bombs exploded a dozen or even dozens of meters away from him, and the flying shrapnel cut several large and small wounds on the unprotected parts of his body, it was nothing to an orc warlord.

True orc warriors have scars that could form a long river across the wasteland.

He doesn't care about that.

What he cared about was that his soldiers were dying and there was nothing he could do!
Brox's muscles were bulging, veins were popping, and he gripped his massive warhammer with both hands, swinging it wildly towards the sky as if he wanted to cleave the flock of steel birds down from the heavens.

"Get down! You cowards! Get down and fight me to the death!"

His response was the shrieking of another wave of bombers.

Having determined that these enemies posed no threat to their own air formation, the last heavy bombers to arrive descended again and dropped all their ammunition on the rear half of the fortress.

Perhaps because the flight path had a shorter time to accelerate due to gravity in the air, or perhaps because the orcs' ferocity allowed them to perform beyond their usual level, an orc air cavalry commander of the Thousand Beast Chief level pushed his dragon to its limit and, with his keen combat instincts, actually intercepted a bomb falling from the sky.

The moment the black dot hurtled toward him, the Orc Chieftain roared and swung his battle axe, a crimson aura filling his entire body as he slammed into the bomb, carving a shocking curve into its path.

If this happened on Earth, it would definitely become a classic scene in military history.

Unfortunately, no one saw it at that moment.

The bomb exploded in mid-air, instantly turning the Beastmaster and his leader-level flying dragon into bloody gourds.

After dropping all their bombs, the aircraft shook their wings, still feeling unsatisfied, and turned to disappear into the clouds.

gone.

He just left like that!
Brox stood frozen in place, staring at the direction where the aircraft had disappeared for a long time, before slowly turning his head back.

Thick smoke billowed from inside the fortress.

Among the orc warriors under his command, some were putting out fires, some were digging people out, some were kneeling on the ground motionless, and some were holding corpses and howling to the sky.

The damage caused by this round of enemy attacks was not too outrageous. For a heavy fortress garrisoned with more than 60,000 soldiers and more than 20,000 laborers, this number of casualties was far from crippling.

However, the damage to the morale of the troops is immeasurable.

In wars on Earth, there is a very important factor to consider: regardless of the balance of power between the two sides or the extent of the technological gap in weaponry, the key factor that determines a nation's morale is whether it can still fight back.

As long as you can fight back, there is still hope to persevere.

Some say that bombing cannot destroy a country, but that's not true, or rather, not entirely true!

The former leader of Blue Star, the Bald Eagle Empire, has set an example many times, repeatedly destroying a nation's hopes, fighting spirit, and confidence through relentless bombing, forcing them to become groaning prisoners at the feet of the empire.

However, there are other countries that the White Eagle does not want to fight, cannot fight, or even dares not fight.

The biggest difference is that if it's just these opponents that the Empire is indiscriminately bombing, even if the enemy manages to shoot down a few of the Empire's planes, it won't have any impact on the Empire itself.

It's like being whipped by an enemy, one lash after another, but you can never touch his body; you can only occasionally break off a small piece of his whip.

This feeling is enough to drive someone to madness! Ultimately, madness leads to despair!

However, as long as one can fight back, as long as one can occasionally inflict a bloody wound on the enemy and truly harm the opponent, the resister can gain immeasurable psychological value.

Even if you punch me ten times and I can only kick you once, there must be some resilient people in this country who can keep fighting.

In this situation, they cannot be defeated by simple bombing; ground troops must be used to sweep them away completely.

And now, the orcs' most powerful forward stronghold is being slaughtered and ravaged by an enemy high in the sky, unable to even touch the hem of the enemy's clothes.

This was a near-devastating blow to the orcs' morale.

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.

The blows are still coming one after another.

Before the flames ignited by the first wave of bombs had been completely extinguished, the second wave of air bombing arrived unexpectedly.

This time, it came even more fiercely.

The first batch of ace pilots were able to use aerial bombs as guided missiles, but Dongxia couldn't guarantee that every batch of pilots would be at that super-level. Therefore, the second batch of aircraft was more numerous and carried a larger payload, including a significant number of precision-guided bombs in addition to inertial-guided bombs.

Their strategy is to bombard all targets, plus targeted attacks.

The orcs' barracks, granaries, command posts, weapon stations, and all their prominent landmarks were targeted and destroyed one after another.

Although Dongxia's fighter jets have achieved aerial networking and can share attack targets in real time, based on the tactical concept of saturation attack and targeted destruction, the operations center allows two to three bombers to attack the same target, and only issues a warning when a fourth bomber joins in.

Undoubtedly, the orcs' granaries became the primary targets. Several conspicuous granaries scattered in different locations within the fortress were fiercely contested by the Dongxia bomber squadron, with each granary receiving three heavy bombers.

Being taken care of so "meticulously" is quite a blessing.

High-explosive bombs were dropped on the enemy's command post, while incendiary bombs were dropped on the enemy's grain depot.

The warehouses, which stored large quantities of dried meat and grain, burst into flames in an instant. The firelight illuminated half the sky, and billowing black smoke rose thousands of meters into the air.

"Damn it, couldn't you have waited until it exploded? It's blocking the view!"

The other pilots who didn't get the bombing slots for the grain depot cursed a few times and then dropped more bombs on other flammable and explosive locations.

The fortress's armory was hit multiple times, and the oil stored inside appeared to have internally combusted, followed by a violent secondary explosion, scattering large quantities of javelins, battle axes, armor, and heavy hammers like a rain of flowers.

Iron rain, how magnificent iron rain!

Compared to these relatively sturdy supply depots, the barracks' buildings appeared too flimsy, so the Dongxia pilots provided them with thermobaric bombs.

The shockwave easily destroyed all the buildings within a few dozen meters. The wooden houses collapsed like building blocks, thoughtfully burying the orc corpses inside, whose internal organs had already been shattered.

Of course, many more orc soldiers were still screaming, rolling, and struggling, but in the orc ranks, there has never been a tradition of saving burdens.

Unless you are the leader or a relative of the leader, serious injury is equivalent to death.

And so, all they could do was let out those helpless cries before they died, over and over again.

The morale of the fortress is on the verge of collapse.

Brox once again climbed the city wall, which was already mostly collapsed, and roared angrily at the sky.

Perhaps it was good luck, his fighting instincts made him subconsciously stay away from the danger zone; or perhaps it was because his strength was truly outstanding, his powerful battle aura protecting his tough body. Although this warlord moved back and forth on the battlefield, he managed to get through the bombardment that was spreading everywhere, and only had a few bloody marks and white marks on his body.

He stood there amidst towering fireworks, explosions everywhere, the thick stench of blood, and the aroma of charred meat, helplessly wielding his massive warhammer.

That battle axe, which had once cleaved the heads of countless opponents, was now futilely slashing at the air.

"Commander! Retreat! Retreat into the caves!"

A blood-soaked orc chieftain with a broken arm charged up the ruined command tower and shouted at Broxigar.

His response was Brox's fan-like giant hand.

The hand gripped his head, lifted him up, and held him at eye level.

"Retreat?" Brox's eyes were bloodshot, and his fangs were covered in blood from the cuts in his own cheeks.

"You want me to retreat? You want me to retreat in front of these despicable humans?"

He slammed his hands together, crushing the centurion's head as if it were a piece of fruit. Blood and brain matter flowed down his fingers and forearm, leaving a long, viscous, semi-liquid trail at his elbow, which swayed and dripped to the ground.

Turning his head, Broxigar, his eyes bloodshot, issued his first attack order since the start of the war to several orc generals who were already pale and retreating in fear.

"Raise the battle flag!"

"The enemy is so big, yet they dare not come down to fight, only daring to cast spells from afar. They definitely can't fight in close combat!"

"They can return in such a short time, so they must not have flown very far."

"Find where they landed, stick to them, and they're doomed!"

As expected of an orc general highly regarded by the royal court, he found a way to "break the deadlock" in such a short time with his keen war intuition.

Behind him, the golden battle banner representing the Orcish royal court and the black battle banner representing the war commander rose simultaneously. Broxigar roared down towards the city with almost all his might.

"Soldiers, assemble! Assemble! Follow me and charge out of the city!"

"Chase!"

"Find these despicable bastards and tear them to shreds!"

Under the command of this orc warlord, the bewildered orc warriors finally found their direction. Led by the remaining few commanders of ten thousand and a thousand orcs, they followed the warlord's banner, rushed through ruins, crossed fire, and leaped over the battered and crumbling city walls, pouring out southwards.

In order to expand the search area, they divided it into a huge fan-shaped arc, which greatly reduced the attack efficiency of the bomber group.

The aircraft and radar simultaneously detected the orcs' movements.

The signal was quickly transmitted back to the front-line command post, and the commanders were momentarily surprised and uncertain about the orcs' frenzied attack.

Gu Liyang rubbed his chin, his eyes full of doubt: "Are these guys' noses that sensitive?"

"Our nearest army combat group is still over 60 kilometers away, right? They removed all the obstacles along the way in advance. How did they find us?"

Political Commissar Han Mu didn't think that far ahead. He glanced at the map carefully for a few moments and tried to explain, "Is it possible that the enemy was simply too overwhelmed by the bombing?"

"If you can't stand the bombing, shouldn't you run backward?"

The Chief of Staff of the forward command post also joined in, and the three of them discussed for a long time before looking at Chen Mo sitting next to them.

"Commander-in-Chief Chen, what do you think?"

Ever since these real, experienced officers from his hometown arrived, Chen Mo was essentially entrusted with command. With an attitude of careful observation and active learning, he stayed by their side, listening and watching more, and speaking less.

Now that the question had been asked of him, Chen Mo mustered his courage and voiced his guess.

"Is it possible that the other party was chasing after the plane by following its direction?"

Gu Liyang clicked his tongue. "They're so far away, are they planning to walk all the way to our airport?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he suddenly realized what he had said.

"Orcs...don't know the range of our planes, they think...it's very close?"

The chief of staff slapped his thigh: "Yes, extremely likely!"

"We're really blinded by our own narrow perspective and being overconfident!"

Well, this kind of common knowledge that everyone on Earth knows can easily slip into the blind spots of commanders' awareness.

Orcs have no idea about combat radius. Since they can't hit anything in the sky, rushing out to raid their nests is a perfectly reasonable tactical strategy.

Gu Liyang quickly issued a series of targeted combat orders. Just as he was about to instruct his clerk to relay them, General Political Commissar Han Mu coughed lightly.

"Commander-in-Chief Chen, do you have any instructions or additions?"

Seeing Chen Mo wave and smile, Han Mu gently nudged Gu Liyang: "Operation orders must be signed by the executing commander first, and then submitted to the commander-in-chief for confirmation before being issued to the front line."

"The procedure must not be messed up!"

Gu Liyang was slightly taken aback. He immediately pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket, took the order from the clerk, scribbled his name in a few strokes, then turned it over and handed it to Chen Mo with both hands.

Well, this procedure, which was added on the spot by Political Commissar Han Mu, delayed the annihilation of the orc warlord Broxigar's army by a few seconds.

The remaining 50,000 orc troops swept towards White Deer, and behind them, the firelight of the Savage Stone Gate illuminated the northern sky.

Savagery, strength, and courage are about to clash with steel, gunpowder, and technology.

Eventually, one side's glory will fall in obscurity.

(End of this chapter)