Ember Dragon

Chapter 648: Crushing Advance

But it wasn’t over—this was only the beginning of the nightmare for the dwarven defenders on the Road of Grinding.With Cassius’s detailed intel, the Ember Empire’s military engineers knew the fortress layout inside out and devised targeted tactics.

For the Empire, once accurate intel was secured, victory was almost guaranteed.

"BOOM—"

Engines roared, steam hissed, and the steel behemoths growled as they rolled down the Road of Grinding.

The dwarves’ tripwires and spike traps were crushed under the tanks’ hardened treads like a joke.

Poisoned arrows, flaming boulders, and falling iron spikes triggered by traps couldn’t even scratch the thick armor of the steam tanks.

In past wars, these traps had caused mass casualties among orc armies—but now, they were useless against the Empire’s forces.

Instead, a single sweep of imperial bullets left the dwarves hiding in ambush horribly wounded.

"Kord! Get to Chamber Three!"

"Quick, activate the boulders!"

"Smash those metal beasts or we won’t be able to stop them!"

"Damn it, how are they even moving those giant machines?! What are those things?!"

Dwarf warriors scrambled through the corridors, shouting urgently. They used every trick they knew—but nothing worked against the terrifying metal monsters.

Hearing the endless gunfire and seeing corpses piled high, Kord’s legs trembled—but under pressure from comrades, he rushed toward the chamber to activate the traps.

From the lookout tower atop the valley, Kord muttered to himself: "It’ll work. Even the strongest giant beast was crushed to mush by my boulders. No way those metal things can withstand it."

With a click, the lever was pulled. The trap was triggered instantly.

"CRACK!"

A clever chain reaction was set off. Hundreds of tons of boulders rolled down the Road of Grinding, sending dust flying and the ground trembling with thunderous rumbling.

"BOOM—"

The boulders tumbled and thundered toward the steam tanks. The valley was too narrow for them to evade.

Kord’s heart pounded as he watched the oncoming wave: "Smash them—drive them out of the Highland Kingdom!"

In previous battles, Kord’s boulders had devastated the orcs.

Even the strongest beast-giants couldn’t resist a boulder weighing hundreds of tons—they were still flesh and blood, after all.

One boulder often meant hundreds of casualties, flattening scores of orcs.

But then, everything changed. A steam tank calmly rotated its turret, and the dark cannon mouth lit up with brilliant flame.

"BOOM!"

The shell struck the boulder—it exploded on the spot, shattering into pieces under the dwarves’ stunned gaze.

The entire valley quaked. Even from the upper tunnels, dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling.

Inside the tank cockpit, a goblin at the gunner’s seat cheered: "Boss, we hit it!"

"Oy!"

Behind him, Bil, the tank commander and a Draconic-blooded goblin, smacked him hard. "Didn’t I say—don’t fire the cannon in the valley! You wanna bury us alive?!"

The goblin rubbed the back of his head, shrugging. Nearby, the tank’s observer shouted: "Boss! Another wave coming!"

Bil snarled: "Activate collision defense!"

More boulders thundered down. As the lead tank unit, Bil’s crew bore the brunt of the impact.

Just before the boulders hit, sharp steel spikes shot out from the tank—each tipped with a glowing rune of a permanent disintegration spell.

"CLANG—"

On contact, the boulders split instantly into fine powder, disintegrating in midair.

"What in... By Moradin, how do such things even exist..."

In the lookout tower, Kord inhaled sharply. These invulnerable metal monsters were beyond anything he imagined.

He’d heard tales of Fadlan steel golems—but even Fadlan never fielded hundreds at once.

But the Empire’s steam tanks were different. They bulldozed their way through the Road of Grinding, shredding the dwarves’ defenses.

At the road’s end stood dwarven heavy infantry with tower shields—but could they really stop the Empire’s iron tide?

The image of slaughtered dwarves in the tunnels flashed through Kord’s mind—bodies riddled with bullets, the air thick with blood and gunpowder.

Despair sank into Kord’s chest. His heart hit rock bottom.

Could they truly stop an army like this?

Outside the valley, Drol watched the battle and asked his aide: "All thirty tanks from the first armored battalion are in?"

"Yes, General. They’ve all entered the Road of Grinding. Current situation is stable," the aide replied.

Drol grinned wickedly and picked up the intercom: "Time’s right. Let those dwarves... taste imperial barbecue."

On command, side-mounted flamethrowers extended from the tanks, reeking of gasoline.

Atop the valley, Kord felt a chill—something wasn’t right.

Having seen the machine guns and cannons, he knew not to underestimate these mysterious tubes—and he smelled fuel.

Kord muttered, "No... it can’t be..."

"BOOM!"

With a roar, streams of fire burst from the barrels, surging into the dwarf tunnels.

The Empire’s gift to tunnel-loving dwarves: the flamethrower—affectionately nicknamed "Barbecue Master."

It wasn’t magic fire, but a device that sprayed a mixture of gelled gasoline and thickening agents—liquid fire that flowed into every crevice.

Pulling the trigger opened a spring valve. The pressurized flammable fluid ignited and spewed forth.

"WHOOSH!"

The fire engulfed the tunnels. Dwarves caught inside burned alive, unable to escape.

Even those behind stone cover were splashed with sticky fuel—and quickly ignited.

"Fire! There’s fire everywhere! Damn it!"

"I’m burning! Where’s water?!"

"I—I can’t see! The smoke! By Moradin, is this hell?!"

Black smoke filled the caves. Burning dwarves stumbled and screamed until they fell, charred and dead.

Worse still, the napalm-like gel kept burning, producing thick smoke and consuming oxygen.

The smoke spread to connected tunnels. Dwarves choked, suffocated, and died.

"Hell... This is hell! We’re trapped!"

In his tank, Bil hummed a cheerful tune as he listened to the dwarves’ screams.

He grinned. "Heh heh heh. Let these stubborn dwarves taste gas and flame."

Now, the network of tunnels along the Road of Grinding had become a fiery purgatory. Screams and coughing echoed endlessly.

Kord was lucky—he was near the top and near a ventilation shaft, spared the worst.

"N-No... how did this happen..."

But as the flames crackled and the smoke thickened, Kord’s composure crumbled.

"My traps... my tunnels... they were flawless..."

Kord didn’t know—the world had changed while he forged in the mountains.

The fire dragons spewing from the tanks tore through the dwarves like rampaging Red Dragons.

Smoke billowed from every tunnel mouth into the valley.

The dwarves’ prized tunnel network—their proud defense—had become their grave.

"Charge! Crush the dwarves! Seize Avenderdan!"

In the tanks, Draconic-blooded goblins cheered wildly, charging through the smoke toward the fortress.

Kord stared blankly as the black shadows loomed through the haze. He reached out a trembling hand toward Avenderdan.

"Avenderdan... must not fall..."

"BANG!"

A shot rang out—blood spurted from a hole in Kord’s forehead. His body slumped.

The old dwarf’s corpse fell silently from the cliff—life was cheap on the battlefield.

The self-proclaimed "Master of Traps" never thought he’d die so easily.

"Got him!"

Below, an imperial rifleman cheered.

According to strategy, tanks spearheaded the assault while infantry followed behind to mop up resistance.

Normally, an artillery barrage would come first—but the valley’s risk of collapse ruled that out.

These follow-up soldiers—mostly half-red-dragons covered in scales—feared neither flame nor smoke, moving with ease.

Even dwarves who escaped to the upper cliffs were easily gunned down.

"Kord—he’s dead?!" cried another dwarf atop the cliffs. He had just seen his master die and was paralyzed with fear.

His name was Burne—a dwarf artisan, poor in combat and often mocked as a coward.

Shaking, Burne shrank into a crack between the rocks, trying not to be seen.

Suddenly, something thick, smelly, and sticky dripped onto his face. He touched it—and froze.

"Is that... no way..."

He looked up. A massive wyvern loomed above him, drooling.

"ROAR—"

The wyvern spread its grotesque wings, unleashing a foul wind.

"No—don’t eat me! Dwarf meat’s tough!" Burne whimpered, covering his eyes, trying to squeeze into the rock.

But the wyvern plucked him out like a snack—and shredded him mid-air. Blood and gore rained down.

Hundreds more wyverns descended on the valley, killing dwarves from above.

The dwarves never imagined they’d face both underground flame and aerial assault.

"BOOM—"

The steam tanks continued pushing forward, nearly through the Road of Grinding and approaching Avenderdan’s walls.

Inside the cockpit, the observers could already see light at the end of the valley—and the mighty fortress built into the mountains.

But then, a wall appeared in their path—dwarven heavy infantry.

These dwarves wore gleaming heavy armor and carried giant shields, standing in tight formation at the valley’s exit, eyes full of resolve.

This force had repelled countless orc assaults, holding strong through endless waves.

But to tanks nearly three meters tall, these dwarves were no wall—barely even a bump.

At close range, the tank drivers couldn’t even see them.

In the cockpit, Bil grinned fiercely. "Trying to stop tanks with flesh and bone? What a joke."