Chapter 104 The Eve of the Great War
At the Obsidian Pass, on a large stone that was everywhere, sitting on the dark cliffs on both sides.
Jima sat on the rock, rubbing the face of an orange cat, and Lianxi’s cat had a seriously deformed face.
“Life is not easy, indeed.”
After saying this, Jima rubbed Lianxi’s cat’s neck even harder, unable to resist tugging at Lianxi’s cat tail.
The injured Lianxi cat, with tears in its eyes, meowed:
“Meow~ Meow~ Meow.” (Master is so hardworking, so hard! George is a bad guy!)
After bullying the cat, Jima felt a little better, slightly lowering her head, and saw the army of the dwarven high king.
The Obsidian Pass, which was referred to as a pass, was more like a canyon, the widest part measured about two kilometers wide, while the narrowest part was only about one kilometer wide.
At this moment, the dwarven army had already occupied this narrow area ahead of time, and the terrain here was inclined upwards. They took a high slope, set up stone-throwing machines at the top of the slope, and dug trenches in front of the machines, installing wooden stakes.
Below the slope, among the high hills, dwarf soldiers in heavy armor stood and drank cup after cup of ale. To seize this high ground, they had marched for nearly three days without much rest. The stamina of the dwarves was terrifying, like a stubborn stone; they relied solely on dwarven ale to replenish their strength.
Their previous hard work had paid off; they had ample time to fortify the entire hillside like an impregnable fortress.
At the top of the slope were rune stone-throwers and crossbows, below were rows of standing shields, dwarf crossbowmen wielding exquisite steel crossbows, and below that were dwarves clad in iron and holding shields.
In the center of the position was a high platform where four dwarves carried a stone throne. Sitting on the throne was the dwarven high king, who was flipping through a thick, yellowing book of hatred.
That stubborn and petty group of dwarves had written all their grudges in blood in the book of hatred, remembered through generations. Did I not just take his halfling chef? How could that also be written in there… However, these stubborn dwarves were the most suited to hold their ground.
They would not be like humans or elves, who would collapse in defeat.
Jima surveyed the dwarven formation and felt relieved.
From her perspective, the only flaw in this formation was that there were too few men; roughly estimated, there were only about four thousand dwarves present, along with a reserve team that had to be spread out over a one-kilometer defensive line.
However, this was better than facing the greenskin army head-on on the plains.
At that moment, a roar came from the distance, not thunder, but echoing like thunder throughout the land.
“Waaaaagh!”
Startled, Jima loosened her grip, and the Lianxi cat fell from her arms, hitting the ground solidly, shocked and forgetting to land on all fours.
The cliffs that had stood for thousands of years on the black rocky ground trembled, and black stone fragments fell, plunging into the molten lava below the cliff.
Jima took a deep breath, stood up on the rock, and gazed into the distance.
There, between the cliffs, numerous greenskins could be faintly seen; the tide of Waaaaagh surged within the pass. In the sky, dozens of black shadows circled, which Jima guessed were bipedal dragons tamed in the badlands.
“Crack.”
Amidst the Waaaaagh, the ground under Jima’s feet split open, and the ground began to collapse. The Lianxi cat leaped up in fright but, affected by gravity, helplessly fell with the stone toward the molten lava below.
The rock beneath Jima’s feet also tumbled. She spread her wings, flew downward, and caught the Lianxi cat.
The Lianxi cat, scared, tightly clung to Jima, digging its claws into Jima’s clothes. After a moment, worried that her claws might scratch Jima, she quickly pulled them back into her paws.
Jima looked down; the obsidian was sinking into the lava below.
Would the dwarves, the imperial army, or even Jenna and George also sink into the lava like these stones?
Jima couldn’t help but worry, flying back to solid ground, and sighed:
“No matter how strong an individual’s abilities are, before absolute numbers, they are just a stone that falls into the river.”
She had never seen a green tide of such magnitude. As for greenskins, Jima had studied them; these “simple,” savage, and inherently bloodthirsty and combative race was not to be underestimated.
In a previous war to annihilate demons, the demon race had a significant advantage, achieving unprecedented superiority, likely capable of destroying the world, until the army led by the demon king that year unfortunately encountered the green tide. The greenskin war chief, rumored to be called Ironhide, had heard that the demon race was formidable and led a crowd of greenskins into battle.
The battle was exceedingly intense, resulting in the demon king receiving a fierce blow to the head, almost becoming paralyzed. The demon army suffered heavy casualties and barely won. Naturally, the world destruction plan failed, and the mortal armies united once again to wipe out the demon army.
Jima sighed and glanced down at the dwarven position.
The dwarves hurriedly picked up the ale cups they had dropped in fear earlier. The long-bearded dwarf warriors, especially the older dwarves, began sharing stories of times when dwarves had triumphed over greater numbers—many of which they had experienced themselves.
As morale improved, the ramblings of the long-bearded dwarves, which were often irritating, undoubtedly served as a reassurance to many dwarves at this moment.
Still, the dwarven army’s morale was high, the trenches remained deep, and the stone-throwers were still finely crafted, their armor as resilient as ever.
But Jima now felt that this group of dwarves, fewer than five thousand, would undoubtedly be overwhelmed by the green tide. They were too few; what use was strength?
Even the most powerful chosen ones in the demon army, blessed by the dark four gods, could still be pressed to the ground and killed by the greenskins.
Although the terrain was narrow, unfavorable for the greenskins to leverage their numbers, the more greenskins there were, the stronger they became. In the roar of Waaaaagh, the greenskins would forget fear, charging forward, their cutting strength becoming particularly fierce, and the greenskin shaman’s spells would grow even more terrifying.
Those wizards in their towers, who spent their lives exploring arcane knowledge, concocting flashy spells, could not compete with a greenskin shaman simply glaring.
Perhaps before the imperial army even arrived, the dwarves would be overrun.
Jima had already begun to consider retreating, planning to take Jenna away.
How could a beautifully endowed girl with such a nice figure die in this wretched place? I haven’t even had the chance to get her into bed yet.
As Jima thought this, she tugged at her collar, revealing a kiss mark on her neck.
She mentally simulated the chaotic battlefield, thinking that just taking Jenna away posed no real risk for her. Perhaps she could consider covering for the emperor; that could score her some leverage for money?
As for George?
As long as I don’t drag him along, it would be fine.
I won’t drag him; what could he do to me?
