Chapter 671: George's Conviction
"Boom!"
A shell exploded in the crowd, blasting several orcs into the air, but Giant Mountain endured it through sheer physical resilience and heavy armor.
Shattered shrapnel pierced its body, carving out ferocious wounds, but those wounds healed at a visible speed, and the embedded shrapnel formed scale-like armor on its surface.
"Roar—It's useless, Imperials! You can't kill me. You only make me stronger!" Giant Mountain swung its warhammer and roared, crushing a fallen orc's head underfoot without a care.
"Giant Mountain!"
"Up ahead is the Imperials' fortress! Crush them!"
"Rat-a-tat-tat—"
From the windows of the bunker, rows of gun muzzles erupted in fierce flashes as the soldiers inside fired continuously at the oncoming orcs until their barrels turned red-hot.
More orcs fell in waves, their corpses piling up like Giant Mountains, but the machine guns could no longer hold back the orc onslaught. Fearless and relentless, they charged forward with only one conviction in their hearts: "I must fight!"
At this moment, Giant Mountain was less than two hundred meters from the bunker. Its monstrous physique and rapid regeneration allowed it to tank bullets as easily as breathing, giving Imperial soldiers a massive headache.
With the distance between both sides so close, artillery support would soon become unusable. They would have to engage in brutal close combat and rely on raw strength to repel the orcs.
To Imperial soldiers, these orcs seemed incredibly stupid and feeble—each bunker defender had already killed more than a dozen.
But the problem was—there were simply too many. Just the orcs charging with Giant Mountain numbered in the tens of thousands, a dense green tide nearly covering the entire battlefield.
How damn fast do these bastards reproduce?
This question lingered in every Imperial soldier's mind, and many followed it with vulgar Imperial curses aimed at the orcs' nonexistent ancestors—for strictly speaking, these green-skinned creatures had no family.
An ogre hefted a rocket launcher, aimed at Giant Mountain, and cursed angrily: "You damn, nasty green-skin! Sewer maggot, wall-crawling roach—I'm gonna roast you to bits!"
"Whoosh—"
A rocket launched with a trail of white smoke, flying straight toward the orc leader.
But Giant Mountain didn't panic. Looking around, it couldn't find a weapon, so it casually grabbed a nearby orc and hurled it with immense force.
"Aaaah—"
With a shriek, the rocket exploded midair, blowing the unfortunate orc into a bloody mist. Flesh and limbs scattered like a grotesque rain of petals.
Another rocket whooshed in from afar. Giant Mountain didn't hesitate, grabbing another orc and flinging it like a weapon. Another explosion rang out.
After all, it was easier to find a handy orc than a decent rock. Orcs were everywhere—rocks weren't.
The ogre with the rocket launcher stared in disbelief, stunned for a moment before spitting furiously: "What the hell—that works?!"
Giant Mountain also glanced at the explosion in the sky and grumbled, "Damn those Imperials! You, over there—you were a good orc. I'll avenge you!"
It raised its arm and shouted: "Brothers, charge with me! Avenge our fallen kin!! Waaaagh!"
"Boss is right!"
"Revenge!"
The orcs roared in fury, their charge gaining momentum. However, those closest to Giant Mountain began to quietly back away, fearing they'd be grabbed and tossed as weapons.
To the Imperial officers and soldiers, the orc assault was chaotic and tactless—just a mindless swarm of bugs.
But sheer numbers mattered. The orcs could plug every gap with their lives. Tactics? Covering fire? Utter nonsense!
Finally, after sacrificing over ten thousand lives and dyeing the battlefield in blood, the orcs neared the bunker and were finally ready to counterattack.
At this point, the two sides were less than a hundred meters apart.
Amid the hail of bullets, Giant Mountain used its warhammer as a shield and advanced proudly: "Imperials, you're scared! You're scared we'll break through!"
Under its lead, the orcs' aura intensified, enveloping the Imperial defenses.
Not only were bullets veering unnaturally, but even several machine guns inside the bunker sputtered and died.
"Damn it, what's wrong with these guns?!"
"No problems with fuel or ignition systems. All parts intact—these are fresh from the factory!"
"Cassius above, this defies logic!"
Engineers frantically disassembled and inspected the weapons, checking every component, but found no internal issues.
This was the orcs' supernatural power.
Born for war, a fusion of Gruumsh and the Abyss, these green-skins adapted to any battlefield, becoming children of blood and fire.
"Boom!"
As the orcs advanced, dozens of mines along the defensive line were triggered. Only half detonated, sending debris sky-high. Orc flesh and blood rained into Imperial trenches.
Giant Mountain raised its warhammer and roared: "Charge! Smash the Imperials! Strip them of everything!"
"Yeah!"
"Waaaagh!!"
Finally seeing Imperial soldiers in the flesh sent the orcs into a frenzy.
Like sharks scenting blood, they surged toward the Imperial line, eyes bloodshot, muscles bulging, veins protruding like roots.
These war machines had gone completely insane!
In an instant, the aura became overwhelming and violent, crashing over the Imperials. Even seasoned half-red-dragon veterans shivered.
But soon, the Imperial officers and soldiers showed their discipline. They quickly set up overlapping fire zones, raised their rifles, and opened fire.
Ogres and half-red-dragon heavy infantry held giant shields at the front, ready for the orc onslaught.
Seeing the ogre, Giant Mountain snarled: "I remember you! You hit me with that thing!"
As the saying goes, enemies meet with red eyes. The ogre cursed and raised its launcher, using a heavy shield as a mount: "Kill it! That green-skin must die!"
"Hahaha, I knew it! You're scared!"
"Fuck you! I fought angels under Emperor Cassius himself! You think I'd fear some stinking green-skin?!"
Enraged, the ogre pulled the trigger. A rocket, trailing white smoke, blasted toward the orc.
"Waaaagh!"
Giant Mountain charged through the barrage, leaped over ten meters, and dodged the rocket aimed at its head.
From midair, the orc dove down with a mighty cleave, exuding a terrifying force field.
At this moment, the will of tens of thousands of orcs gathered in Giant Mountain, strengthening it, contorting its face, fire blasting from the hammer's rear.
The ogre veteran looked up in disbelief and muttered, "It's just a green-skin..."
"Boom!"
The ground-shaking impact crushed the ogre's head to pulp. Blood and bone flew everywhere. Its body embedded in the ground, leaving a giant crater.
Since the war began, this was the first Imperial casualty.
"Waaagh!"
"Crush them! Brutal Giant Mountain! Mighty Giant Mountain!!"
"So strong, so powerful! We'll kill all the Imperials too!"
"What's going on up there?"
"Giant Mountain killed an Imperial! Heard it was a big brute too!"
"Nice! Hell yeah!"
In an instant, tens of thousands of orcs erupted in cheers. The roar shook the heavens.
Even though their casualty ratio was still one to tens of thousands, this was a breakthrough from zero to one—a momentous occasion worth celebrating.
"Boss Giant Mountain, I want to kill too! Throw me in!"
"Throw you in?"
"Yeah! Like when you used that unlucky guy as a meat shield! Toss me in!"
"Me too! Me too!"
Driven mad by fanaticism, frontline orcs thought only of war and slaughter.
They begged to be thrown into the trenches, just to bash Imperial skulls with bone clubs and stone spears.
"Alright!"
Giant Mountain obliged. It picked up an orc in each hand, grunted, and hurled them skyward with ease.
Soaring above the trenches, the orcs gripped their crude weapons and shouted excitedly: "Waaagh! Prepare to die! We're coming!"
"Bang!"
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Gunfire rang out. Under the baffled gazes of Imperial soldiers, the airborne orcs were riddled with bullets and fell like bloodied sacks.
Giant Mountain scratched its head and muttered, "Well that didn't work."
"Bang!"
"Gentlemen—these green-skins have become outrageously arrogant! This is an insult to the Empire!" A gunshot rang out, followed by a familiar voice.
All the Imperial soldiers turned to look behind them—toward the voice.
The speaker was a man with brown hair and golden eyes, dressed in a crisp military uniform, left hand on a longsword, right hand gripping a smoking silver pistol.
Four gold stars adorned his shoulders, and a lavish dragon claw medal was pinned to his chest—a mark of an Imperial Count.
"It's Commander George!"
"By Cassius, he came to the front himself!"
"I heard he clawed his way up from the trenches! He became commander by personally killing a four-winged angel!"
"I heard it was a six-winged angel!"
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
George scanned the battlefield, raised his pistol again, and fired several shots into the air to draw everyone's attention.
"Don't be intimidated by their aura! They're just inferior green-skins! Don't you want to become noble officers like me?
Pick up your blades, your swords, your guns—for Emperor Cassius, for the Empire, and for your glorious future!"
His impassioned voice echoed in the trenches, igniting everyone's spirits. They could feel their dragon blood surging.
As a symbol of the "Imperial Dream," George had risen from a mere grunt. Now, his presence at the frontlines electrified the troops.
"Yeah! Kill every last green-skin! Erase these world-wrecking pests!"
"For the Empire!"
"For Emperor Cassius!"
Seasoned veterans blessed by Imperial will and faith in Cassius rallied quickly and launched a fierce counterattack.
"Boom! Boom!"
Grenades were thrown from the trenches, blasting orcs into bloodied messes.
Then came machine guns and rifles, hundreds of them firing in unison, forming deadly overlapping fire zones.
Under this firestorm, the frontline orcs died in droves, their advance pushed back dozens of meters.
Now, Giant Mountain fought alone.
To take down this exceptional orc leader, the Imperials pulled out all the stops. George personally directed a comprehensive tactical operation.
"Whoosh—"
Metal spheres were tossed from multiple angles, whistling through the air.
Giant Mountain roared, thinking they were explosive "eggs," and swung wildly with its warhammer.
"It's useless! You can't hurt me! Just wait—we'll kill you all!"
But unexpectedly, the metal spheres split open midair, unleashing nets crackling with electric arcs.
Half of them fell due to the orc's aura, but several nets still flew in from all directions.
"Waaaaagh!"
Giant Mountain swung its warhammer wildly but became entangled. The nets were made of Abyssal dark spider silk—incredibly tough. Even it couldn't tear free.
It struggled violently, but the nets only tightened around it.
"Discharge," George said calmly with a wave.
High-voltage electricity surged through the nets. Giant Mountain's skin charred, a grid of burn marks appearing. It screamed in agony amid the flashing arcs.