Ember Dragon

Chapter 650: Avenderdan Under Artillery Fire

Smoke filled the battlefield, and even the sky seemed to be stained with mottled hues. The two armies faced off across the field, the air thick with killing intent.The dwarves stood ready, not making a move, but the Empire wasn’t in a rush either—instead, it calmly deployed troops across the plain, forming an orderly formation.

"Boom—"

Amid the muffled roar, steam-powered vehicles carrying heavy artillery rolled across the plain. Ogres, in small groups, dragged the heavy cannons, and squads of Imperial soldiers flowed like a patchwork flood, shifting swiftly into organized lines.

Even the wyverns in the sky flew in neatly aligned squadrons, circling skillfully in the air before descending and landing near the supply vehicles.

"What are they doing?"

Watching this scene, the Dwarf King frowned deeply.

In his mind, the armies of the Ember Empire should’ve been like the orcs—winning through fangs, claws, thick scales, and sheer numbers. He imagined a legion made of savage, crazed dragon-blood beasts.

But in reality, the Ember Legion was orderly, even more disciplined and tactically sound than the armies of the High Highland Kingdom.

Bjorn walked up beside the Dwarf King and sighed softly, "Your Majesty, haven’t you noticed? The world has changed. A new era of warfare has arrived.

The Harpist Alliance has brought us a lot of intel. While we dwarves were still mining and forging in the mountains, those Imperial firearms had already spread across the world."

"So that’s how it is." Edd lowered his head and let out a bitter smile.

The situation was even more dire than expected. Sending Zain to lead the migration was undoubtedly the right choice, Edd thought to himself.

The dwarves began to murmur among themselves, watching the Empire’s deployment—not fearful, just confused.

To these brave and reckless dwarves, war was won by brute strength, harder weapons, and greater fearlessness.

As for tactics—what were those?

"What the hell are those damn invaders doing?"

"Who cares? No matter what schemes these dragon-loving bastards have, we dwarves can bash their skulls in with a hammer!"

"Beast-born filth!"

"Yeah! Damn mongrels, I’ll avenge my fallen brothers!"

Outraged, the dwarves stood atop the walls, hurling curses and crude insults, trying to scrape together the nastiest words they could think of.

Little did they know—the Empire’s artillery and air units were already in position, ready to rain destruction on Avenderdan.

On the hillside, the hobgoblin general Drol raised his saber high, the blade gleaming in the sun.

Drol looked invigorated. Staring at the distant Avenderdan, he gave a deep command: "All units—open fire!"

The saber slashed downward, and his voice carried clearly through the communicator, spreading across the Ember Legion to every officer and soldier.

"Fire barrage!"

Three hundred and twenty-seven heavy cannons and eighty-six tank main guns all fired at once. These iron war machines let out deafening roars, and terrifying flames burst from their thick barrels.

"Boom—"

In an instant, the barrage roared to life, billowing dust into the sky and shaking both earth and heavens.

Gray-brown contrails streaked across the sky like bloody claw marks.

The shells, trailing fire, drew graceful arcs through the air, covering the thousand-meter gap and raining down on the majestic dwarf fortress.

"By the gods, what is that?!"

"What... what the hell is that?! That’s over a thousand meters away!" The dwarves finally began to panic.

Even Edd, a seasoned warrior, changed expression as he gazed upward at the horrifying display. "Father Moradin above..."

At last, he understood what Bjorn meant by "a new era of war."

Realizing something was terribly wrong, Edd quickly turned and shouted to the dwarves, "This is bad! Quickly, activate the defense barrier!"

Because the enemy was still over a kilometer away, the priests and mages of the High Highland Kingdom had let their guard down, expecting the attack to come on foot—not as a rain of shells from the sky.

But the artillery shells had already reached Avenderdan’s skies, and were plunging toward the walls—too late.

"Boom!"

Explosions erupted, dozens of shells detonating and unleashing terrifying blasts of fire and smoke.

The walls shook violently. Stones tumbled down, entire sections crumbled, and many dwarves were consumed by flames or blown away.

With just one round of shelling, the once-proud walls of Avenderdan were riddled with wounds. Hundreds of dwarves perished in the inferno.

Remember: after Zain’s departure and the loss of the Honing Path, Avenderdan had fewer than 9,700 warriors left. Hundreds lost in an instant was devastating.

Worse still—they hadn’t even clashed with the Imperial troops. This was just long-range bombardment!

Or more accurately—a one-sided slaughter!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Shells exploded one after another, fiery blasts and thick smoke nearly swallowing the walls. The shrapnel from the ruptured shells could easily shear off a dwarf’s arm—or even his head.

"Boom!"

A shell detonated right in the middle of a crowded group, engulfing unsuspecting dwarven warriors. When the smoke cleared, only a dozen charred bodies remained, their fate uncertain.

King Edd witnessed the scene firsthand, and his heart burned with desperation. His people were being slaughtered!

They weren’t even dying in honorable combat—they were being ruthlessly butchered by the enemy’s explosive magical weapons!

"Damn it! We can’t wait any longer!"

Edd clenched his jaw, pressed his palm to the ground, and his body radiated an earthen yellow glow. He was willing to burn what little life force he had left to activate the wall’s defensive array.

"Vmmm—"

Mountain’s Protection!

With a resonating hum, ancient dwarven runes along Avenderdan’s walls lit up.

The ground rumbled, the roar unending, as the towering might of the mountains rose and clung to the walls, slowly forming a thick shield to block the barrage.

At the same time, Edd raised his warhammer high and let out a thunderous roar toward the sky.

In that instant, earthy light burst from his weapon. Countless shards of stone rose into the air, intercepting dozens of shells mid-flight, forcing them to explode above ground.

Edd wasn’t the only one—dwarven elites unleashed their own techniques: some fired arrows, others hurled boulders to disrupt the barrage.

One especially reckless dwarf berserker even leapt into the air, using a diving cleave against a falling shell, blasting himself black with soot and embedded in shrapnel.

Yet the Empire’s assault had only just begun. The artillery strike was merely the appetizer. What came next—was an air raid.

"Vmmm—"

A sharp, eardrum-piercing screech rang out across the sky. Dozens of wyverns streaked through the clouds in perfect formation, diving down like arrows loosed from a giant bow.

Sharp-edged metallic wing membranes lined their wings, slicing the air with shrill noise.

These weren’t just physically dangerous—they struck terror into the heart. Even now, many Aetherians still shuddered at the sound, remembering that horrifying bombing run.

Seeing the oncoming wyverns, Edd’s heart sank. He quickly warned, "Watch out for those wyverns!"

"Shhhh—"

The wyverns soared low over Avenderdan, dropping bombs like rain upon the dwarves below, erupting one after another.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

A chain of explosions rocked the parapets. Raging fire devoured swathes of dwarves, their screams echoing across the ramparts.

"Moradin above!"

"Ah, my arm!"

Mountain’s Protection could block cannon fire striking the walls, but it couldn’t fully defend against bombs falling from the sky.

When the dwarves looked up, ready to retaliate, the wyverns had already ascended out of reach, vanishing from view.

Watching his people die one by one, fury began to boil within Edd.

"Boom!"

A bomb exploded beside him, but was blocked by the barrier glow protecting his body. He wasn’t hurt—just looked a little scorched.

The Dwarf King didn’t care about his singed face. He shook his head and muttered, "No, this is not the fate of my people! They should not die such meaningless deaths."

Glaring at the wyverns lining up for another strike, Edd’s eyes turned bloodshot with rage. "I’ll make you bastards pay in blood!"

Elsewhere on the wall, dwarven crossbowmen fumbled with an oversized, three-meter-tall ballista, clearly out of their depth.

Edd marched over with a dark expression, suppressing his fury. He growled, "Step aside. Let me handle it!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

The crossbowmen quickly backed away, not daring to intervene.

Edd approached the steel ballista, skillfully nocked a massive bolt onto the launcher.

One hand gripped the limb, the other turned the giant winch to draw the string, building immense tension.

At last, with a piercing whistle, the wyverns flew into range.

"Die!"

With a pull of the trigger, the bolt tore through the air with tremendous force, instantly skewering two wyverns.

"Screee!"

The creatures howled, plummeting from the sky. Their riders fell too—dead on impact.

But the formation held steady. More wyverns filled in, continuing their assault on Avenderdan.

Iron wings sliced the heavens again. The sky echoed with the shrill screech of death.

"Still daring to come back? Damn lizards."

Edd’s face twisted in fury. His muscles tensed, veins bulged.

The Dwarf King let out a roar, glowing with an earthen aura. "Dragon lackeys! Time you saw the power of the children of the mountains!"

"Boom!"

With a thunderous impact, dust erupted beneath him. The wall trembled, leaving behind clear footprints where he’d launched himself.

Edd shot into the sky, soaring hundreds of meters with the power of the mountains beneath him.

He pierced through the clouds and appeared above the wyvern squadron!

Facing them head-on, he raised his hammer and bellowed, "We dwarves bear the strength of the mountains!"

The hammerhead glowed bright yellow, crackling with terrifying force as it ripped through the air.

The dwarf king dove into the formation, a towering illusion of a mountain looming behind him, like an entire blackstone peak crashing down.

"Die—!"

"Boom!"

The hammer struck the lead wyvern square in the chest. A massive shockwave erupted in midair, creating a deadly storm.

The lead wyvern exploded mid-flight, spraying blood like rain, leaving no intact remains.

And that—was just the beginning!

A yellow hurricane tore across the sky, packed with sand and stone, ripping into the remaining wyverns.

"Screee!"

The wyverns shrieked in terror, flapping furiously, but couldn’t escape the shredding vortex.

One even detonated its own bomb mid-air, inadvertently killing its rider.

In a flash, the legendary dwarf’s assault wiped out the entire twelve-wyvern bombing squad—without resistance.

Blood and meat rained from the sky. Edd crashed into the earth, carving a deep crater.

Dust erupted, the ground quaked. Yet the dwarf remained unscathed, gripping his warhammer, staring down the Ember Legion.

"Bang!"

A sharp gunshot rang out—one bullet, crossing a thousand meters, aimed at Edd’s skull.

More shots followed from different angles, targeting his brow, neck, heart.

—Imperial snipers. Veterans of countless wars, the Empire often deployed a dozen sniper rifles to eliminate enemy elites.

In the North Aether War, many transcendent Aetherian warriors died this way—without ever knowing what hit them.

But Edd, forged by years of battle, had near-prophetic instincts. His senses were beyond mortal.

He had sensed the danger already. Swinging his warhammer sideways, he called the stone to shield him.

Shards of rock intercepted the bullets midair, knocking them off course.

Edd picked up a still-hot casing and studied the intricate runes etched into it. He muttered, "Anti-magic rune. Piercing rune."

"Bang!"

More bullets came, alongside falling shells. But Edd calmly looked up, raised his warhammer.

"So easy to block, huh?"

At the rear of the Ember Empire’s position, General Drol peered through a scope at the Dwarf King, watching him effortlessly block enchanted bullets.

Drol shook his head with admiration. "Tsk tsk. No wonder they call him the High Mountain King. He’s got some bite."

Then he turned to his aide and said, "Tell Colonel Mill—no more air squads. No need to waste our wyverns in this fight.

Besides, the warm-up’s done. Time to launch the full assault." Drol grinned, already imagining his promotion to Duke.

"Yes, General."

At Drol’s command, the massive iron beasts began to move. The battlefield filled with roars as the ground shook once more.

The true siege had begun!