Chapter 740: The Arena
The charging Forgefire Dwarves instantly fell into chaos, their terrifying momentum abruptly cut off.
Meanwhile, over at the Demon Warlock legion, thick black smoke began to rise, coiling into a massive column that shot up toward the sky. A swirling cloud of pitch-black smoke formed overhead, the heavy stench of sulfur saturating the air.
One-meter-wide fireballs rained down from above, wrapped in toxic fumes, trailing long, dark green tails behind them.
A series of thunderous explosions—boom, boom, boom—engulfed the panicked Forgefire Dwarves in thick, dark green flames. Dense poison smoke shrouded the beastmen in fire, and only the furious roars of the dwarves could be heard.
A barrage of abyssal spells erupted from the Demon Warlocks, indiscriminately bombarding the dwarves' position. For over a minute, the relentless suppression continued. Poison-tipped spears kept raining down from the sky, and the dwarves' angry roars grew fewer and fewer.
Moments later, the poison smoke began to dissipate, and the Wolf Riders charged forward in eerie silence.
Like a raging wind, hundreds of Wolf Riders surged into the thinning haze, curved blades flashing coldly. The heads of Forgefire Dwarves flew up one after another. In an instant, their numbers were cut by more than half.
After just one charge, of the hundreds of Forgefire Dwarves, barely any were left standing.
The dozen or so surviving Forgefire Dwarves let out a furious roar and charged madly at Rodney. The strongest among them began to spin wildly, a storm swirling around his body, lightning crackling everywhere.
Two seconds later, the Forgefire Dwarf gripped his massive iron hammer with both hands and hurled it with all his might.
With a thunderous boom, the moment the hammer was thrown, the air exploded violently. A barrage of sounds like cannon fire erupted, and the hammer—easily weighing several thousand pounds—shot forth like an arrow, wrapped in crackling lightning. The shockwaves alone ripped apart any orc slaves caught in its path.
More than a dozen wolf riders didn’t even have time to resist before they were swept away, sent flying backwards. The giant hammer hurtled straight toward Rodney, reaching him in the blink of an eye.
Rodney sneered, reached out, and summoned a swirling mass of black smoke that coalesced into a lifelike demon’s claw, four or five meters across.
The demon’s claw seized the lightning-wreathed hammer. Lightning flashed wildly, as if trying to tear the claw apart, but the demon’s grip only retreated a meter before clenching tighter, trapping every spark in its palm. Instantly, the air around them seemed to lighten.
The demon’s claw dissolved back into black smoke. A chunk of iron, crushed into a twisted lump, fell from midair. Rodney waved his hand again, and in front of the desperate Forgefire Dwarves, the space twisted—revealing a gigantic demon’s head, seven or eight meters wide.
The demon’s head was engulfed in flames, its features blurred. As it emerged from the vortex, a heavy abyssal aura began to spread.
A malicious, eerie laugh echoed out as the flaming demon’s head opened its maw, revealing a mouth full of molten rock, and inhaled toward the Forgefire Dwarves.
In an instant, the dozen dwarves charging with all their might couldn’t even resist—they were sucked into the demon’s mouth.
The demon’s jaws snapped shut, emitting a series of crackling noises. Seconds later, it inhaled again, swallowing the corpses of hundreds of Forgefire Dwarves.
After a long moment, the demon’s head belched, glanced back at Rodney, and slowly withdrew into the vortex, vanishing from sight.
It was a massacre—hundreds of Forgefire Dwarves wiped out in no time.
Cohen’s face darkened as he screeched, “Rodney, look at what you’ve done! You actually killed so many Forgefire Dwarves. Just wait and see how you handle this—you’ve started a war with them! When I get back, I’ll report everything to the chief and elders!”
Rodney ignored Cohen’s outburst, but one of Rodney’s subordinates couldn’t hold back.
“Cohen, what do you know? Have you forgotten the tribe’s prophecy?”
Cohen, who’d just been brimming with malice, instantly grew devout and fanatical at those words.
“How could I forget! The glory of the Ashen Orcs—no child of the tribe dares forget. One day, we’ll open a door, and on the other side lies a path to splendor and honor. There, we’ll meet someone who will lead our people to reclaim the greatness we once had!”
Finishing his speech, Cohen’s expression returned to its usual sneer as he glanced around disdainfully.
“I never forget the prophecy, and restoring our former glory is every Ashen Orc’s duty. But that has nothing to do with what just happened. Look at all the trouble you’ve caused—now you’ve even provoked the Forgefire Dwarves and killed so many of them! Their tribe will be furious. Just wait and see!”
Rodney seemed a bit wistful, unable to help recalling the Ashen Orcs’ former might.
Back then, they followed a mighty master—second only to Emperor Asan—the Lord of Wisdom, Constanzo!
The Ashen Orcs were ten, even a hundred times stronger than now. Any orc slave qualified to join the Ashen Orc army was at least level thirty; any adult orc below that was just a slave.
Powerful demon warlocks could command abyssal demons by name alone, and there were more than a dozen abyssal demon lords bound by contracts with the Ashen Orcs.
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When the Ashen Orc wind riders flew overhead, they blotted out the sun, casting a shadow like storm clouds rolling in from the horizon.
Even dragons would detour when they saw the wind rider legion. Back then, wind riders hunted dragons, and every race except the Ashen Orcs was fair game.
The wolf riders’ mounts weren’t the current Flame Frostwolves, but legendary Netherwolves with god-demon bloodlines!
Even the weakest wolf rider was level thirty-eight, and all the leaders were supreme-tier powerhouses.
Back then, the chieftain was a top-tier supreme powerhouse. Countless races instinctively feared the Ashen Orcs.
Glory—former glory—was etched into every Ashen Orc’s soul. It was a mission every Ashen Orc fought to protect and revive.
Rodney snapped back to reality, hearing Cohen’s endless chatter. He glared, murderous intent surging.
“Cohen, the prophecy’s time has come. This ruin appeared at just the right moment, and it’s tied to our tribe’s former master—the Lord of Wisdom. The legendary door must be here. As Ashen Orcs, we’ll stop at nothing to find it. Not even the Forgefire Dwarves can stand in our way!”
“If I hear you say one more word about stopping me from finding that door, I’ll kill you myself.”
Cohen opened his mouth, but said nothing—just snorted disdainfully.
The Ashen Orc army surged to the ruin’s entrance. Rodney eyed the gates, frowning.
“Looks like someone beat us inside…”
Rodney muttered to himself.
A subordinate nearby looked confused. "Warlord, didn’t the Forgefire Dwarves get here first?"
Rodney shook his head.
“Not the Forgefire Dwarves. They’ve been digging here for a while. I mean someone else—just ahead of us.
When we neared the ruin, the pack of magical beasts we encountered had no leader. They’d just fought a battle, and without a leader, they were scattered—easy prey for our slave army.
You know how these pack beasts are—lose their leader, and within a day they’ll choose a new one.
Whoever went ahead just killed the pack leader, scattering the beasts. It means they’re few in number and in a hurry. There are traces at the ruin’s gate—they definitely just entered.
Realizing this, Rodney ordered the army to charge into the ruin at full speed…
Elsewhere, after a harrowing journey, Lin Yun and his group had already reached the depths of the ruin…
The ruin was like a world of endless change, dangers everywhere. As soon as they entered, they fell into a bloody jungle, where bloodthirsty vines went wild at the scent of blood.
The endless bloodsucking vines blotted out the sky, trying to overwhelm Lin Yun’s group by sheer numbers. Even torrents of fire spells couldn’t suppress them. In the end, Lin Yun opened the Book of Death, used the Chapter of Elements, and summoned hellfire to burn the jungle to ash.
After escaping the jungle, they reached a swamp thick with poison. The air was so toxic it condensed into raindrops that fell from above.
The swamp was home to venomous crocodile pythons. When they burrowed into the poisonous mud, even Lin Yun couldn’t detect them. Xuban was nearly dragged under—if Lin Yun hadn’t reacted quickly, he’d have vanished beneath the muck.
Even so, Xuban’s tough body was poisoned. He had to drink three bottles of antidote before he recovered.
After that, they encountered all sorts of terrifying magical beasts—expert hunters—and plenty of deadly environments, some so dangerous even Lin Yun had to detour around them.
Now, fleeing a corrosive poison rain, they stumbled into a place that looked just like an arena.
Lin Yun stood at the center of the arena, frowning. The others gathered around, scanning the place. Lin Yun’s brow furrowed even tighter.