Chapter 317 Legion

In the southern part of the Norsca Mountains, "The Invincible" Abair rode a flesh-and-blood hound like a giant elephant and returned to the north with the happy Chaos warriors.

According to other Chaos Lords, the Aislin tribe in the Giants' Home Mountains is fighting against the dwarves, and they, the Chaos Lords, may be able to take down the dwarves in the mountains along the way.

The dissipating yellow clouds were penetrated by the sun, and the sun's irradiation inspired the sharpness of the fine steel rune axes on the ground.

The penetrating cold light shot straight into the sky, and the indestructible sharpness in the cold light was hidden in the neat shouts.

"Khazukan!"

The four dwarf fortresses almost came out in full force. More than 30,000 dwarves occupied the main road connecting the north and south of the Giant's Home Mountain Range. The warriors wrapped in fine steel and runes beat their bucklers angrily and shouted with steel drums. War.

"Khazakit!"

The cold wind couldn't help but respond to the crisp and clear sound of the collision of weapons, and the distant echo made the howls of chaotic beasts disappear.

Even the giant dragon that had been dormant for nearly ten years in Longjiao Peak was awakened by the wild shouts under the mountain. When the giant dragon stretched out its head from its lair and saw clearly the crazy legions of dwarves on the ground, it also looked like giants and trolls. They also quietly left the nest and migrated far away.

No one wants to go head-to-head with the dwarf army. The loud sound of the rune anvil is the clarion call to death.

The last one to face the dwarf army was the high elves of the Golden Age.

No ancient creature knew why these short men went crazy. They all picked up weapons, put on armor, and stood ready on the mountain road. Even the miracles forged by their ancestors with runes were carried out by them.

The dwarves have not been in such a formation for thousands of years.

Since the golden age of the dwarves in ancient times, there has never been a dwarf army of this size in the world.

"Khazukan!"

Thousands of voices shouted for revenge in the drums beaten by steel, and pairs of eyes filled with the fire of hatred confided to their ancestors their desire for the blood of their enemies.

Uncontrollable rage ignited the bellies of all the dwarves. Blood debts can only be repaid with blood. Blood debts can only be repaid with blood.

"Children of Granny! The final hour has come!

Dulong City has fallen, and the king recounted the blood feud in his ancestor's dream!

The minions of demons and Chaos trample on our land. They use clumsy swords to cut the flesh of the dwarves. They use plague to rust the mountains of the land of giants. They are gnawing at the mountain kingdom!

There is no more peace and all Dumumgi must pay the price! For King Thorgard Colomson and all the dwarves who died in the disaster.

I, Mackenac Rydenson, swear to Grimnir with my beard that this hatred will never be settled before the Aeslin tribe is destroyed!

A debt written in blood can only be erased with blood! "

"Khazakit!"

"Khazukan!"

The rough and angry voice knocked the door of death among the mountains, and the endless roar shook the abyss below the cliff again and again.

Even if all the North dwarves died in the battle, they would have to let the minions of Chaos repay this blood feud.

Short war cries were shouted over and over again by the anxious Avengers. The Hammer Warriors and Iron Breakers holding large shields erected a shield wall outside the phalanx, and the Butchers and Berserkers walked between the shield walls. Waiting for the idiot who is about to crash into the dwarf army.

They don't have the abundant star iron to forge armor like their southern compatriots, but the new plate armor smelted from fine steel and runes can only deform under the brute force of giants, which is enough to deal with the Chaos Warriors.

They were stuck on the Cold Wind Mountain Road. Whether they were going north or south, they had to take this road.

No matter where the Norscans wanted to go, they had to pass through the shield wall that could stop the giants.

Steep mountains separate the northern and southern ends of the Giant's Home Mountain Range, and nearly vertical cliffs disconnect the valleys between the mountains.

Only the mountain road occupied by the dwarves can connect the two sides of the abyss. This is the battlefield chosen by the dwarves for their enemies.

The favorable terrain has been occupied by the dwarves, and now they just need to wait quietly for the prey to crash into the steel net.

The young dwarves who did not have much experience repeatedly inspected the pure steel crossbows in the shield formation. The Thunderer stroked the dwarf muskets that had been improved countless times, and together with the dwarf crossbowmen, they bore the scoldings of the bearded men.

They always chatter like this.

No young man dared to talk back, because every bearded man was an elder with a high status, a veteran who had survived countless conflicts. They had the most magnificent beards second only to their "living ancestors".

They respected the longbeards as they respected the war chiefs who stood tall in battle.

The dwarf war chief, Mackenac, stood on the tall Oath Stone, inspecting the military formation with an angry look. No young man dared to look at him.

This respectable old dwarf may be wearing armor for the last time. Even if the young dwarves are unwilling to admit that the Norscans can harm their "living ancestors" who have lived for thousands of years, they can't help but feel sad.

The dwarves on the Oath Stone must ensure that all enemies notice him immediately. There are only a handful of dwarves who can continue to stand on the Oath Stone after the battle.

Those dwarves who did not make it to the end were also the "living ancestors" who lived to the theoretical limit of the dwarves' lifespan.

The grief was ignited by anger, and the Longbeards tirelessly described to other dwarves the records of the Norscans in the Book of Hatred. The dwarves who died tragically at the hands of the minions of Chaos were with them, and all the dead were with them, every day. A dwarf is desperate for revenge.

The rune apprentices were busy cooling the rune anvils, and the rune masters cared for the war machinery, arranging and classifying different combinations of runes.

A host of organ cannons and flame cannons were put through their final rounds by the engineers, ready to unleash explosions of runes and gunpowder at the enemies of the dwarves.

There are very few Chaos Lords who have fought against the regular legions of the ancient race, at least very few of them are still alive.

If we had to count the dead, we couldn't write all their names in a book.

Maybe they should return to a civilized country first, sacrifice themselves to summon a few bloodthirsty demons to accompany them, and go north with the demon army?

The coldness reflected from the steel in the sun pierced the eyes of all the Chaos Lords. The oldest one could not find from his memory a dwarf army that could match the size of the legions on the mountain road ahead.

This doesn't make sense.

There may be only a thousand dwarves in a dwarf fortress, and those with a prosperous population may not have more than 10,000 people. Only large-scale dwarf settlements have more than 10,000 dwarves.

No dwarf king can mobilize tens of thousands of dwarf warriors at will, which means that they have to summon all the dwarf rangers, butchers, and wandering clans wandering around the fortress, as well as other dwarf cities, so that several kings can respond to the call of the High King. Integrate an army of tens of thousands.

The tens of thousands of dwarves in front of him were obviously not an army put together in this way.

The shrill cannon fire sounded one after another, and the dwarves' thick military formation lit up with blazing firelight.

The cannonballs dragged the tail flames and gathered into rain in the sky, which was gorgeous and deadly.