Chapter 739: Orcs and Dwarves
After slaying the Forgefire Dwarves, Anderson floated over to Leon, his brows furrowed.
"Merlin, are we still going into these ruins? Is it safe?"
But suddenly, Leon looked up and instantly sent two Wizard's Eyes soaring into the sky.
Through the Wizard's Eyes, he saw—far off in the distant sky—at least a hundred wyverns flying toward them, their roars echoing faintly in his ears.
A few seconds later, the sound of a large force moving through the forest reached them—the heavy tremors of Kodo Beasts stomping on the ground were clear and distinct.
"The Ashen Orc army is here. Let's head into the ruins first."
With a wave of his hand, Leon released several bursts of flame, incinerating all the Forgefire Dwarf corpses.
Leon led the group swiftly into the ruins. In the distance, the Ashen Orc army kept advancing toward the site.
On the flank, a pack of Flame Wolves was battling the orc slaves in the group, while the wolf riders and demon warlocks among them remained idle.
At the very center, atop a colossal Kodo Beast—over six meters tall and more than ten meters long—sat a massive throne. Rodney lounged on the throne, watching the distant battle with cold, detached eyes.
Rodney's presence was imposing. A silver nose ring hung from his nose, and around his neck was a necklace strung with the skulls of various creatures. Though the skulls were small, each had been shrunken by special means—and every one was a formidable foe Rodney had personally slain.
If Beta were here, he'd probably be so terrified by Rodney that he couldn't even stand.
Rodney, one of the Three Warlords of the Ashen Orc Tribe—known as the Flame Dragon Warlord—possessed overwhelming power and commanded the tribe's most elite forces.
Hundreds of wyverns, the finest Orc Wind Riders, over three hundred Wolf Riders, two hundred Title Archmage-level Demon Warlocks, and thousands of orc slaves made his army a force to be reckoned with.
All along the way, Rodney's forces never took detours. No matter what they encountered, they simply crushed through. Even magical beasts, sensing the overwhelming might from afar, would actively avoid them.
The Ashen Orc Tribe was ruthless. The Chieftain held absolute power, and beneath him were the Three Warlords.
Whenever a chieftain fell, the new leader was always chosen from among the Three Warlords. The selection process was brutal—only the strongest, with the most elite troops, could inherit the chieftainship.
The Ashen Orc elders held far less power than their Dark Elf counterparts. Their sole purpose was to support one of the Three Warlords.
As one of the Three Warlords, Rodney's strength was beyond question. The tribe's prophet had even openly praised him, hinting that Rodney was favored to become the next chieftain.
It's worth noting that the prophet was the most respected figure in the Ashen Orc Tribe, occupying an exalted position. Every chieftain revered the prophet; whenever the prophet spoke, there was almost never any dissent within the tribe.
But the prophet rarely meddled in tribal affairs, only offering guidance when the tribe faced major decisions.
Rodney being praised directly by the prophet had undoubtedly boosted his chances of becoming the next chieftain.
In the Ashen Orc Tribe, everyone had to fight for themselves. Building a team meant recruiting your own followers. Rodney had struggled from a weak Ashen Orc to one of the Three Warlords, surviving countless brushes with death.
This was the Ashen Orcs' creed—strength above all.
This time, Rodney had come to the ruins because of the rivalry among the Three Warlords, unwilling to risk losing and so appeared in person.
The skirmish on the flank quickly ended. Rodney frowned slightly, lost in thought.
By now, the main force had reached the front of the ruins. A horde of Forgefire Dwarves burst out, as if they'd been waiting for them all along.
The Forgefire Dwarves attacked the Ashen Orc army the moment they saw them.
"Damn Ashen Orcs, go to hell!"
"Kill these filthy Ashen Orcs!"
The Forgefire Dwarves' eyes seemed to burn with blue flames. Like madmen, they attacked the Ashen Orc ranks the moment they appeared.
All the Forgefire Dwarves guarding the entrance had been slain. The battle had alerted the others, but by the time they arrived, Leon's group was already inside the ruins—and the Ashen Orc army was just arriving.
The Forgefire Dwarves, under evil control, cared for nothing else. The fight erupted instantly...
A mass of Forgefire Dwarves charged forward with massive hammers, shaking the ground. Just a few hundred of them hit with the force of a herd of giant beasts, smashing everything in their way to pieces.
At the front of the Ashen Orc army, orc slaves raised shields to form the vanguard. Behind them, Wolf Riders gripped their reins, sabers drawn, while Demon Warlocks exuded a thick abyssal aura.
Above, the wyverns were poised to dive—the collision of forces was imminent.
The Forgefire Dwarves had lost all reason, driven only by the urge to tear apart anything living. The Ashen Orcs had no intention of dodging.
Rodney sat on his throne atop the Kodo Beast, coldly watching the Forgefire Dwarves charge like a stampede of monsters. He barked out, "Kill them."
As soon as Rodney spoke, a Fifth-Rank Title Archmage-level Ashen Orc on a slightly smaller Kodo Beast shrieked beside him.
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"Rodney, what are you doing? Are you trying to provoke the Forgefire Dwarves' wrath? Do you want to drag the tribe into a terrible war? Nobody move! No one is allowed to attack!"
The speaker was thin, not much like an Ashen Orc, and shrieked at the top of his lungs. Yet few in the army paid him any heed.
The fighting at the front had already begun. The orc slaves in the vanguard collided first with the frenzied Forgefire Dwarves.
The Forgefire Dwarves, still several meters away, hurled their hammers in unison. Hundreds of hammers, packed with tremendous force, tore through the air—white shockwaves converging like a towering wave crashing down on the Ashen Orc army.
The orc slaves roared and raised their shields to block the assault, but in an instant, countless shields were smashed to pieces. In a single clash, dozens of orc slaves were killed outright.
The white shockwave rolled in, and the hammers crackled with lightning, blasting orc slaves' heads open. The front-line defense was shattered in the blink of an eye, and the Forgefire Dwarves tore into the Ashen Orc ranks like wolves among sheep.
Behind them, the Wolf Riders were itching to move but held back, and the Demon Warlocks didn't act either. In the sky, the Orc Wind Riders kept diving but none threw their venom-tipped spears.
Rodney's face darkened as he turned and glared viciously at the man on the neighboring Kodo Beast.
"Cohen the Overseer, I'm not the one starting this war—it's those damned red-skinned dwarves attacking first. If you can talk them down, now's your chance!"
Besides Rodney, several other officers just below him in rank glared at Cohen, their faces dark. Many wore murderous looks, as if waiting for a chance to get rid of Cohen.
Now that the Forgefire Dwarves were attacking, Cohen actually forbade them from fighting back. The orc slaves could bear it, but the main force was furious—even so, none dared openly defy Cohen's orders.
In the Flame Dragon Warlord's army, every officer knew Cohen wasn't one of Rodney's men—he was an Overseer sent by the tribe.
Each Warlord's army had an Overseer, all dispatched directly by the tribe. Though the tribe valued strength, it also feared the Three Warlords growing too powerful and losing control, which could harm the tribe's future. Internal strife had to be kept in check for the tribe's survival.
Cohen, however, was an Overseer sent by an elder supporting another Warlord. When Rodney was caught in a minor scandal, he had to compromise, but the result only made people want to kill Cohen sooner.
Just like now—Rodney gave the order to attack, and Cohen instantly forbade it, accusing him of starting a tribal war. Not even Rodney wanted to bear that blame.
"Cohen, I'll give you three minutes. Go and try talking to those red-skinned dwarves!"
Rodney sneered and glared at Cohen.
Cohen gave an awkward smile—he was only Level 35, and facing those crazed Forgefire Dwarves would be suicide.
"Rodney, I'm just saying—we should avoid antagonizing the Forgefire Dwarves if possible. After all, they're stronger than the tribe..."
Rodney sneered, openly showing his disgust for Cohen. Because of Cohen's delay, hundreds of orc slaves had already been killed by the Forgefire Dwarves...
Rodney suddenly waved his hand and shouted, "Kill."
Instantly, the rampaging Forgefire Dwarves slammed into an invisible wall, forced to a halt.
The Orc Wind Riders dove from the sky, hurling venom-tipped spears with shrill whistling. The spears struck so quickly that, by the time the sound reached the ground, a Forgefire Dwarf was already impaled.
In a flash, dozens of venom-tipped spears rained down, the whistling so intense it made the air crackle and pop.
These powerful, stocky Forgefire Dwarves were instantly skewered—dozens pinned to the ground in an instant.