Chapter 109: For the Empire (V)
Jenna’s azure eyes dimmed. Although somewhat reluctant, she still followed behind Jima.
The centurion turned his head toward Jenna; behind him stood the imperial army with their shields raised and banners flying. His gaze carried confusion and a hint of pleading.
Saint Jenna shook her head slightly.
The centurion turned back with a hint of disappointment, ready to order the soldiers to carve a bloody path alongside the two strong figures.
Jima did not want to bring so many people along for the escape; it was simple—more people meant more accidents. But it was still within an acceptable range.
If the situation turned sour, I’d definitely fly away while tugging on Jenna’s ample chest… there shouldn’t be any unexpected surprises, right?
As Jima thought this, she turned back and shouted, “Prepare to retreat—huh?”
A flash of light engulfed Jima’s vision, and a solemn voice echoed in her ears: “Promises must be kept.”
Promises?
Jima suddenly recalled that she had patted her chest before their departure, assuring George that she would definitely pull him over, claiming something about saving the innocent imperial citizens as a great justice, and certainly including a righteous messenger or something.
Now that she thought about it, it was a bit strange. With George’s intellect, how could he have just let her go with a pat on the shoulder?
“Jenna!” Jima gritted her teeth and asked, “A voice suddenly echoed in my ear, saying I must keep my promise. What’s going on?”
Jenna replied, “Did you promise something to George?”
“Yes.”
“His extraordinary ability.”
“That jerk!” Jima bit down hard, turning to Jenna. “Cover me.”
“Stop, form ranks!” Jenna shouted, stepping in front of Jima and shielding her. As she prayed, a translucent shield took shape before the golden-haired, ample-chested girl.
Under the officer’s orders, the soldiers formed ranks along Jenna’s flanks, shielding her sides and making Jenna the spearhead, standing like a tip of a spear amidst the crowd.
The tide of deserters had passed, leaving behind more Green-skins pursuing the fleeing soldiers, primarily goblins, as the beastmen riding war pigs sustained heavy losses in the bloody cavalry battle. Goblins, being naturally timid, and good at holding spears while swiftly striking the weak, were now in action.
Goblin riders on wolves, spiders, and even fearsome beasts attacked the spearhead formation in disarray, unable to make any progress.
Jima opened the entrance to the Dream Palace, a typhoon-like eye appearing before her. She leapt inside, landing on the soft grass, raising her head to look toward the west.
Her gaze crossed the illusory blue sky, and it was no surprise to see the “smoke signals” emitted by George’s Dream Seed.
Reluctantly, she waved her finger, inviting George to her “Dream Palace.” A shooting star streaked across the sky, landing in front of Jima, transforming into George, who was clad in mismatched armor, lightly touching down on the grass.
George opened his eyes and asked, “Jima, what’s the situation now?”
“Go die!”
Jima suddenly shouted, brandishing a branch spear toward his face. George startled and turned away, the spear tip hitting his helm, causing it to angle sideways.
“Jima, you?”
Jima jabbed again, and George jumped back, unbuckling his sword belt and drawing out a massive sword strapped to his back.
Seeing George draw his sword, Jima quickly tossed her branch spear aside and said, “Oh, you jerk, sneaking a contract on me without a word.”
George remained alert, approaching her, moving the spear aside, sword aimed at Jima as he asked, “Are you mentally okay?”
“No.”
“Are you the Succubus Jima?”
“Yes,” Jima raised her hand and said, “If you have the time, you can tie me up with vines from the tree and interrogate me; that’s not out of the question.”
“Quit joking, Jima.”
“I’m really angry,” Jima said. “I can’t believe I didn’t know about this promise and fell into your trap, humph.”
“Only the initiator who believes they are acting out of goodwill, with honesty and no intention of fraud, can make a promise,” George replied. “I had no intention of harming you.”
“A man’s words are like a devil’s.” Jima reached for the branch spear, which flew back into her hand. “Come with me to the battlefield at Obsidian Pass for the grand escape; the lives of thousands of imperial soldiers rely on you.”
Saying this, she tugged on George’s hand, running toward the nearby exit.
“What’s happening?”
“The imperial army has been defeated! We need to preserve our strength as much as possible and break through.”
Without giving him time to think, Jima pulled him and jumped into the entrance.
From the dream into reality, it felt like falling through clouds. Jima couldn’t help but hold tightly to the hard and cold George. Finally, her feet touched the ground, and a wave of dizziness hit her, causing her vision to blur.
After the world swayed in front of her several times, Jima gradually shook off the dizziness. She felt as though her abilities were like a designer balancing her mind, fearing the imbalance and granting her the power to pull people, with a dizziness setting to prevent her from unexpectedly attacking others.
George steadied Jima, just as goblins decided to forcefully take the imperial infantry’s position.
Five frenzied night goblins, having consumed the “Strength Mushroom Brew” granted by the shaman, spat white foam, yelling wildly as they grabbed iron chains connected to heavy iron balls. Surprisingly, the small-statured night goblins were able to swing iron balls larger than their bodies, spinning them toward the imperial battle line.
Behind them, black-robed goblins with pointed hats cheered excitedly, but the celebration quickly turned to panic.
Two night goblins, while spinning, lost their sense of direction and unexpectedly turned back, heading toward their allies.
The frontline goblins fled in fear, while those behind jostled to see the commotion, resulting in a pile-up. The two night goblins spun into their allies, sending goblins flying and injuring several, creating a wave of wailing, and hearing their comrades in pain only fueled the night goblins’ frenzy to swing the iron balls harder.
The imperial soldiers watched in horrified dismay as three night goblins charged in with their iron balls.
“Crossbow bolts! Crossbow bolts, quickly take down this group of madmen!”
A scattered volley of crossbow bolts flew out hurriedly, one hitting a night goblin squarely in the chest, but the night goblin showed no sign of stopping, instead laughing wildly.
As the iron balls spun ominously toward the imperial formation, the soldiers in the front line nervously took a half-step back, while Jenna was occupied resisting the front-line enemy and couldn’t free her hands.
George then dropped his sword, using one hand to support Jima while he bent down to pick up a fist-sized rock and hurled it with all his strength. The rock struck the closest night goblin in the face, causing it to cave in backward, with a splatter of brain matter from its rear. That way, George killed the remaining two night goblins with a rock.
The morale of the imperial soldiers surged, and they shouted, “Good!”
The newly appointed centurion stepped forward and shouted, “Hero, please—”
George turned to him and shouted, “Quick, bring me a spear!”
The centurion hurriedly commanded someone to fetch a spear. The imperial spear was slender and designed to pierce shields; if it hit an opponent’s shield, it would wrap around and not suitable for long-distance throwing.
George squinted, releasing Jima, taking a few steps forward before launching the spear into the yellow dust, chasing after the goblin shaman who was far in the dust, barely visible.
The spear hit him squarely in the back, pinning him and his wolf in place, sending both goblin and wolf tumbling.
The centurion gaped in surprise and exclaimed loudly, “You must be the descendant of Sigmar!”
Jima felt a pang in her heart as she looked at the pinned goblin shaman in the distance, thinking to herself: I used to be able to do that—never mind, I probably wouldn’t even be a demon lord.
George turned and said earnestly, “Officer, I am a paladin from the Holy Hall, named George Hammer, devoted to the God of Dawn, here to assist the imperial army.”
Jima quickly exclaimed, “Good, we have a better chance of breaking through now! Centurion, you should have your men fall back!”
“But the emperor is still ahead.”
Jima shouted loudly to ensure her voice was heard over the sounds of the battlefield:
“The battle is decided! We need to preserve our living strength before that bunch of foolish electors come to their senses and desperately rally the army; you are the last hope of the empire!”
“But—”
“Are you going to just sit back and let the green skins rampage through the empire without doing anything?!”
The centurion found himself speechless.
George briefly asked a few questions and found that Jima wasn’t lying. The imperial army had suffered heavy casualties, and there were still stubborn ones gathering troops at the rear. Even if they stubbornly resisted here, it was merely a futile struggle.
George glanced back and understood. The imperial army’s banners were in disarray, being chased and killed by the green skins. On a kilometer-long line, this small group of four hundred soldiers holding their ground was trivial.
George sighed, mounted the celestial war horse he summoned, and proclaimed loudly, “We can only retreat.”
“Yes, yes, that’s right! Listen to the professionals,” Jima nodded, patting the celestial war horse’s rear. “How could I have made a mistake? This battle has no point of reversal; once the green skins come, they win.”
At that moment, a goblin pump wagon charged in, and Jima tightened her grip on the “branch spear,” wanting to see which unseeing goblin it was.
But she discovered that the goblin pump wagon was desperately fleeing, with imperial knights catching up. One knight speared a goblin off the wagon, and the goblin pump wagon toppled. The imperial knight, unable to rein in the reins, shouted to Jima and the others:
“Descendants of Sigmar! Quick, go support the emperor! He is dueling the treacherous warlord Beast!”
Having said this, they rushed back without a moment’s pause to notify more people.
George pulled on the reins, turning the horse around, while Jima hurriedly grabbed the reins and asked, “Don’t act rashly, George, what are you doing?”
“Supporting the emperor. As long as we slay the warlord, there’s hope.”
In the distance, the dwarves on the hill had abandoned the runic catapults and were charging toward the duel with reckless abandon. The supreme king of the dwarves, bloodied, sat upon a throne raised by four dwarves, roaring with his axe as they marched forward.
Jima, both anxious and angry, said, “In a battle of this scale, that place must be filled with both sides’ strong fighters. Do you think you’re the protagonist, able to turn the tide alone? You’re just a paladin; to put it harshly, what can you really do?”
“Let go, Jima. They need me.”
Jima tightened her grip on the reins. “I won’t let go.”
George forced Jima’s hand down, causing her pain, which made her release. Jima cursed, “Heartless! If you go and perish, Jenna will go too, and then we’re all just playing at being heroes!”
George kicked the horse’s belly and shouted, “I’m sorry, please take care of Jenna.”
“Get back here!” Jima yelled after George’s retreating figure. “You irresponsible man!”
All my investments have gone to waste!
George did not stop. The war horse beneath him ran even faster, charging toward the tide of green skins.
Jima turned her head to look at Jenna, who had just borrowed a horse and was about to mount. She charged over, grabbing Jenna’s chest from behind and said, “Sister Jenna~~~~, you must not go.”
“But George needs me.”
Jima spoke rapidly in Jenna’s ear, “Your magical power is heavily expended right now; intense combat is not suitable for you. There will be many injured at the rear who need your healing; if it’s too late, they’ll die just before victory.”
“This…”
“Please, the fate of hundreds of families rests in your hands.”
Jima then grasped Jenna’s hands, as if placing hundreds of lives in her hands.
Jenna was bewildered by Jima’s manipulation and could only nod.
Jima stared into her azure eyes, saying, “Promise me, in the name of the God of Dawn.”
Jenna said, “I promise.”
“Good, I will watch over George.” Jima turned and took a few quick steps before leaping up, three-meter-long wings spreading from her back as she flapped, soaring lightly into the sky.
As she flew, she muttered through gritted teeth, “Why do the weak fight? Why haven’t these humans surrendered yet?”
The centurion stared in astonishment at Jima’s silhouette flying away, shook himself, and looked toward the emperor, shouting, “For the empire! Descendants of Sigmar, advance towards the emperor!”
The wounded bugler blew the bugle, and the soldiers shouted in unison, “For the empire!” marching in unison.
…
…
The duel led to a chaotic melee as Rick’s guards mixed it up with the green skins, with everyone seeking to dominate in numbers rather than embodying the spirit of one-on-one combat.
“Crack!”
The sound of bending metal rang out. Another armored imperial extraordinary rushed in and was swiftly felled by the warlord Beast’s axe.
His death only granted a brief moment of respite to the beleaguered emperor.
The emperor bent over, struggling to catch his breath as yet another headless corpse of a loyal imperial soldier fell to the ground.
Interfering in duels was a quick way to die.
This was the conclusion the emperor had come to after observing. It seemed that after his duel began, the green skins’ strange abilities maintained a certain harmony, likely because the gods were watching, forbidding any others from intervening.
Regardless, the emperor felt that others were dying for him in vain. In other situations, even in his duel with the warlord Beast, he might have lived longer; it wasn’t worth sacrificing one’s life for a pathetic emperor like him.
With little time for rest, the warlord Beast swung his dual axes glowing with green light and continued his storm of attacks. There was little finesse; he simply hacked at the emperor with overwhelming force.
The emperor retreated step by step, struggling to defend as each clash of weapons sent gusts of wind pushing those nearby away.
Amidst the barrage of attacks, with all his tactics and techniques spent, the emperor found himself unable to withstand further assaults. Another axe struck his shoulder, numbing it and forcing him back a step, his deformed shoulder armor falling off.
This feeling of utter helplessness was truly despairing.
The emperor even contemplated fleeing, running away without care, but a glance at the corpses of imperial extraordinary soldiers made him realize how many were depending on him, believing in him. Some had paid the price with their lives, yet they believed they had chosen the wrong person; he could not let them down, at least not now.
The emperor gritted his teeth and fought for his life, crushing a goblin that attempted to ambush him as he continued to face the warlord Beast, blood pouring from the cracks in his warped armor, each step leaving a patch of blood upon the ground.
Goblin shaman Columbus, or rather, Akarnis, watched the duel between man and beast, grinning with a twisted smile. Clutching a poisoned blade, he planned to seize the opportunity to stab the imperial emperor, fulfilling his long-held plan to prove himself as a true green skin.
Although the emperor appeared on the verge of being slain by the warlord Beast, the thrill of executing a surprise attack and stealing a killing blow was too enticing.
…
…
On the other side, just as Jima had remarked.
This area was filled with strong fighters; without any ordinary army shielding him, George found it difficult to advance and had to dismount.
He swiftly slew a black orc with his sword and then yanked the goblin attempting to trip him with a rope, crushing it beneath his foot.
Jima suddenly appeared behind him, impaling an injured goblin assassin with a spear, their backs turned to each other.
As George advanced, slaying foes, he shouted loudly, “Jima, do you have a way to get me to the duel area?”
“No! I can’t carry you, and even if I could, I wouldn’t take you there!” Jima shouted. “Who told you to charge directly into the midst of the troops?”
“This couldn’t be helped.”
Indeed, it couldn’t be helped; when the duel area was surrounded three layers deep by warriors, it was all just a pile of soldiers everywhere.
George exclaimed, “I hope the emperor holds out longer!”
“Unless he is Sigmar in the flesh!”
…
…
“Boom!”
The emperor felt a wave of dizziness before crashing to the ground for the third time, his helmet flying off and rolling several times before coming to a stop.
Blood flowed continuously from his warped magical armor. The emperor struggled to stand; this time, standing was harder than ever, as one of his legs seemed to be lame. He stood and fell again, only managing to half-kneel on the ground.
“What’s this, old man? Die!” The warlord Beast, with one eye swollen, grinned as he approached the emperor wielding his axe.
Meanwhile, the emperor still tried to support himself with the Sigmar warhammer, desperately attempting to stand.
As he saw the emperor getting knocked down repeatedly, nearing defeat, the guards of Rick couldn’t help but cry out in despair.
Hearing the cries, the emperor, in a daze, recalled the era of Sigmar.
Though humanity had advanced rapidly in the past several thousand years, mastering magic and establishing various academies, becoming more civilized—able to forge exquisite armor for their armies, developing oil for military use, and various war machines—discipline within the military had also improved.
But all humans had lost their past barbarism, becoming weak, even to the point of crying out loud.
Including himself. If humans were still in their barbaric phase during Sigmar’s time, this green tide assault would have been easily dealt with by Sigmar himself, smashing the head of the orc in front of him with one blow.
With this thought, the emperor wobbled back to his feet, raising the heavy Sigmar warhammer, which felt unbelievably weighty, and he simply set it down on the ground, his bloodied, vacant gaze focused on the approaching warlord Beast.
Akarnis the goblin stepped on the emperor’s helmet with his bare right foot, gazing at the emperor, who had lost his fighting spirit, with a grin that revealed yellow teeth like wilted leaves.
This was truly an opportune moment for a surprise attack; the emperor’s kid could barely lift a weapon. This guy had previously captured me, using childishly obvious tactics to win me over, playing chess and engaging in noble games, leading me to lose fourteen straight times. What a sore point!
Akarnis thought, crouching low, prepared to strike.
Suddenly, the emperor grasped the Sigmar warhammer, staggering toward the warlord Beast.
For some reason, Akarnis recalled that day when he refused to back down; after the emperor had secretly let him win fourteen games, he too had taken the opportunity to win four straight against the emperor. The emperor had made an excuse and slipped away.
“Bang!”
The emperor was knocked down for the fourth time, the Sigmar warhammer rolling to the side as the warlord Beast stomped toward his deformed chest armor, raising both hands and axe, shouting, “Let’s see if you can still stand!”
He might as well just be quick and merciful, giving him a swift death.
Akarnis thought, leaping to the emperor’s rear, unleashing an explosive skill as if something within him exploded, boosting his entire speed to a new level, ready to claim the prize from under the axe.
The warlord Beast glared at Akarnis, thinking that this vile goblin intended to steal the kill.
At least at that moment, the warlord Beast was not mistaken.
Akarnis, under the intense gaze, felt a rush of inspiration that overturned his old plan.
What if I assassinated the warlord Beast? My true identity would be exhilarating! Removing his head would surely shock the greenskins. Who would expect me to accomplish the assassination of the warlord?
Akarnis was stirred with excitement, taking a sidestep.
The warlord Beast was pleased with his own authority and focused on splitting the emperor’s head from his cowardly neck.
Akarnis unleashed all his strength, sidestepping behind the warlord Beast, revealing his true form as he leaped four meters high to aim for the beast’s neck.
The warlord Beast only caught a glimpse of a shadow in his periphery before feeling a sharp pain in his neck as the poisonous shadow blade plunged deep into his barrel-thick throat.
“Surprised?!” Akarnis called from behind the beast’s shoulder as he plunged another sword into him, shouting, “I’m Akarnis! A false greenskin!”
The warlord Beast furiously tightened his muscles, clamping down on the shadow blade with one hand reaching for Akarnis.
Akarnis hastily kicked, pulling the shadow blade free and vanishing into the shadows over ten meters away.
“Thief assassin dies!”
The warlord Beast surged with green lightning, reaching out toward Akarnis.
Akarnis could feel the powerful Waaaagh energy flowing within the beast, and since he disrupted the duel and attempted to steal a kill, this Waaaagh energy directly targeted him!
An invisible hand yanked Akarnis back like a kitten, and the warlord Beast swung his axe, which barely missed Akarnis, who narrowly dodged with a burst of speed, trading a few blows with the beast before losing his left forearm to an axe strike.
Pain coursed through him, and seizing the chance, he covered the wound and fled, disappearing from everyone’s sight.
“A mere little bug.” The warlord Beast crushed Akarnis’s severed hand underfoot, turning to declare, “You’re next!”
Somewhat unexpectedly, the emperor stood with his back to him, raising the glowing golden hammer, slowly rising to his feet.
“What? This time you won’t get thrown away!” the warlord Beast bellowed as he charged forward, “Die!”
The emperor turned his head, eyes glowing with divine golden light. He raised the Sigmar warhammer, swiftly spinning to face the warlord Beast, his movement swift and uninjured. He opened his mouth, unleashing a loud, primal battle cry that drowned out the warlord Beast’s roar.
The emperor had never shouted a battle cry since the battle began.
The warlord Beast found his focus slipping, the golden-glowing Sigmar warhammer crashing toward him. The warlord Beast struck with all his might, but the tremendous force of the blow twisted his axe, denting the steel handle. He staggered back several steps.
The emperor charged forward, leaping and delivering a devastating blow that brought the four-meter-tall warlord Beast to its knees, causing the ground beneath to sink nearly half a meter.
The warlord Beast could only raise his axes to block as the emperor brought his hammer down fiercely in a series of three strikes, beating the beast downward until the warlord’s arms shattered and his axes flew aside. In shock, he questioned:
“Who on earth are you?”
The emperor bellowed, “Sigmar!”
One of his blows landed squarely on the warlord Beast’s jaw, twisting the beast’s barrel-thick neck several times before finally coming to a stop, hanging limply.
The emperor grasped the warlord’s crumbled head with one hand, lifting the massive green skin’s severed head high amidst the astonished gazes of many.
Both the battling greenskins and humans instinctively halted, staring at him.
