"WAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!"
A green tide covering the mountains and plains swept towards Veling. It felt as if this battered and congested small city would be crushed and destroyed by the Greenskins' brute force in the very next second, just like the countless cities they had ruined along the way, the only difference being the scale.
This small inland city usually had absolutely no need for city defenses. There wasn't a single cannon, the firearms were all brought by the soldiers and civilians themselves, and there wasn't even much usable ordnance in the warehouses—much of it was just left behind by the southern expeditionary army because they didn't want to carry it.
Even the city walls were barely usable after emergency maintenance; in the past, the city council had even considered whether they should just tear the walls down entirely.
They were already crumbling from the previous artillery bombardment. Without solid morale to support them, a complete rout and flight would likely occur the moment they engaged in close combat.
However, the Est
alians' shameful routs and defeats will at least be put to an end here in Veling!
The people standing on the city walls already held this conviction in their hearts:
This city will use every beating noble heart and the blood of the brave to wash away the gloom shrouding the hearts of the Estalian people!
We might lose—but we will not be defeated!
The human ranged units began to show their might. Firearms and crossbows were concentrated in the hands of the best marksmen. The mages participating in the city's defense channeled the Winds of Magic, unleashing fireballs, wind blasts, and lightning strikes at the Greenskins' siege towers. Not to be outdone, the Greenskin Shamans unleashed Gork and Mork spells toward the battlements.
Two siege towers had massive holes smashed into their middles. One of them trembled and struggled for a moment before snapping and collapsing, crushing many unlucky Greenskins to death, while the other continued its forward push after a brief pause.
In return, several spots on the battlements were blasted into flying rubble and gaps by the Shamans' spells, instantly felling over a dozen unfortunate warriors.
Lacking siege defense equipment, the people of Veling could only watch helplessly as the enemy drew closer and closer to the walls. Although the firearms and crossbows were trying their best to inflict casualties on the Greenskins, compared to the sheer number of enemies, it was simply too little.
Under the buff of the Great WAAAAAGH!, non-lethal and minor wounds had absolutely no effect on these Greenskins. Even severe traumas like severed limbs and spilled intestines for a human could be handled by a Greenskin simply sticking the limb back on and shoving the guts back into its belly, ready to jump right back into the fight a minute later.
The best way for the Veling ranged attacks to cause actual attrition was only by shooting them in the head or inflicting consecutive severe traumas.
However, there wasn't much time left. The first Greenskin siege tower had already slammed against the city wall, letting out a muffled boom.
Without a moment's pause, the drawbridge was dropped, and the first Greenskin let out a WAAAAAGH! roar and charged onto the wall!
"Bam!"
A warhammer cracked its skull wide open, and the Big Un's legs gave out, dropping it helplessly to its knees.
The Sister pulled her warhammer out from the gooey mess of its shattered crown and brains, letting out a battle cry.
"Sigmar!!!"
"Sigmar!!!"
More Greenskins swarmed onto the walls, and the defending warriors also boosted their morale, launching a resolute counterattack.
The enemy's cannons continued to fire. The northwestern city wall completely failed to withstand the pressure, swaying before collapsing downwards.
A breach had appeared!
The Greenskins, who had been ready for a long time, charged in through the breach under the command of their Warbosses. Waiting for them were the hastily cobbled-together militias and civilian armies of the Estalians.
Baldy, the Warboss commanding the overall situation, couldn't help but raise his hand and scratch his bare scalp.
Even after being taken under the wing of the Great Warboss Gorkamorka Wyvern, he still maintained the same attire from his days as a Chaos Dwarf slave. He hadn't even repaired the crack on his helmet that previously symbolized his loyalty, making him look incredibly comical at first glance.
A black-armored Big Un warrior, exposing a perfectly bare ring of scalp.
But no one dared to ignore his strength.
A Night Goblin advisor hunched over, shuffling up next to the Warboss and muttering some gibberish. Baldy hesitated for a moment, shook his head, and continued to observe the progress of the WAAAAAGH!.
The Great Warboss preferred using Greenskin Warbosses with steady personalities as commanders, in order to avoid a massive drop in morale caused by them getting killed by the enemy in a confused daze.
Of course, individual combat strength had to be guaranteed first, otherwise they wouldn't be able to suppress the Greenskins below them.
As they secured their footing on the walls and at the breach, the Greenskins continuously expanded the influence of their bridgehead. Although the Estalians, besieged for days, had been spurred by tragedy into a desperate fight to the death, the continuous artillery bombardment and harassment over the past few days meant many hadn't gotten a good rest. Furthermore, most of them were untrained civilians. While they lacked the buff of their faith, the Greenskins, on the contrary, frequently received magical support from their Shamans and the thick, powerful reinforcement of their WAAAAAGH! abilities.
Casualties inevitably mounted, and more and more Greenskins were able to enter the city. For every Greenskin killed, it required the sacrifice of at least three to five militiamen or more. Only those Sisters of Sigmar clad in heavy armor could gain an advantage over the Big Uns. Even veterans who had been on the battlefield could only rely on better coordination and training, skirmishing against the Big Uns with the assistance of their teammates, to barely achieve a one-to-one or two-to-one casualty ratio.
As more formidable Big Uns, along with Goblin archers and lurkers, joined the battlefield, the scales instantly tipped further toward the Greenskins' side.
Those Goblin lurkers, throwing foul Greenskin bombs made of Greenskin dung, rotting flesh, and toxins, let out piercing, eerie cackles as they smashed their munitions into the crowds and onto the heads of the Veling defenders. The pungent stench caused uncontrollable nausea and dizziness; many people were chopped down by the Greenskins while gagging and dazed.
If Al saw this scene, he would definitely think his Troll-Goblin bombardiers shared a similar stroke of genius with these things.
The Goblin Boyz used blowdarts and shortbows from the high ground of the wall positions cleared by the Big Uns, showering the militiamen with arrows. This quickly caused no small amount of trouble for the Estalians, who were generally unarmored or wearing only leather armor.
The Sisters shone brilliantly on the battlefield against the Greenskins, but no matter what, they only numbered around two hundred. To stabilize the overall defense, they had to continue dispersing, leading squads to guard various choke points. With the deployment of the formidable Big Uns, casualties gradually began to appear among them as well.
The Battle Sisters began to suffer casualties. One Sister swung her hammer and smashed a Big Un to a pulp, but was chopped down by another Big Un lunging from the other side. Before she could even get up, she was
decapitated by a blade slicing through the gaps in her armor, her head—its dying expression still full of fervent zeal—grabbed and hoisted high into the air to show off the glory he had claimed to the enemy and the other Greenskins.
Tercios shone brilliantly in the urban street fighting. Clustered spears and sword-and-shield formations could effectively resist the Greenskins, but lacking the support of ranged firepower, the few square formations could only be slowly ground down bit by bit by the Greenskins. Then, when the spearmen were weakened enough that they could no longer hold them off, the Greenskins would launch a charge and overrun the position.
The city walls were completely lost. The remnant forces had to abandon the perimeter of Veling and pull their remaining troops back. Previously, they had already sealed off most of the passageways with various scrap materials, leaving only a few main routes open for the Greenskins to attack.
Relying on the narrow terrain and the cover of buildings, the Greenskins' individual combat strength and ranged capabilities temporarily lost their advantage.
At such close range, human firearms and crossbows could also inflict casualties on the Greenskins more accurately. Human marksmen occupying the high points of civilian buildings continuously fired upon the Greenskins, and reckless Big Uns constantly fell on the path of their charge.
It seemed humanity had secured a foothold.
"Awooo~!"
Roars came from behind the Greenskins, and the Greenskins deadlocked with the humans cleared a path.
A group of massive monsters, radiating a foul stench far surpassing that of the Greenskins, shambled toward the front lines. A bunch of Goblin runts were squatting on their shoulders, muttering into the Trolls' ears.
Soon, this pack of monsters arrived at the front lines. The Goblin Boyz yanked on their ears, issuing commands.
This pack of Trolls, seemingly conditioned by some method, suddenly let out a roar. The Goblins hurriedly jumped off them and scurried to the back of the Greenskin army amidst the kicks of the Big Uns. By this time, the Trolls had already launched a charge at the human positions.
These low-intelligence, dazed, but completely fearless monsters smashed through the spear formations with the Big Uns following closely behind! They tore apart the solid defenses, dragging the defenders back into a brutal melee. Every time they swung their choppas or massive clubs, they sent several human warriors flying.
Shamans had also entered the city, using magic to attack the defending marksmen on the high ground.
Two Wyverns took off from the camp. Steered by their riders, they swooped over the heads of the defenders, dropping baskets of bombs gripped in their claws.
Several deafening explosions rang out!
The rear lines of the defenders were blown off their feet, and the frontline Greenskins took advantage of the momentum to break through. Although the Sisters and officers tried their best to maintain the battle lines, they still couldn't resist the obvious impending defeat.
The time to bleed out had come!
Grand Sister Helen was rotated out from the battlefield to take a brief breather in the rear. She took off her helmet; her short silvery-white hair was already stained with the blood of many allies and enemies, looking just as murderously fierce as her heroic face.
They might fail here today, but victory would definitely be seized back on countless other battlefields!
"For—Sigmar!"
The Grand Sister held up her scripture, gently kissed its golden skull cover, hung it back on her waist, and stepped back onto the front lines.
"Woo..."
Bald Beast, the Warboss who was losing his patience and preparing to personally take the field to launch the final assault, was suddenly stunned when he heard the sound of horns coming from behind him.
He kept a straight face (which no one could see) and looked back in confusion. It seemed like something red was swaying over there.
A Goblin scout riding a wolf charged straight into the camp. Under Baldy's gaze, it tumbled off the wolf's back, crawled and scrambled to the Great Warboss's feet, and blabbered a whole bunch of gibberish.
"Red! Red weird, weird fings are comin'!"
"Big Uns, lots 'n lots of Big Uns! Even more, more WAAAAAGH! den da Big Uns!"
The Warboss furrowed his brows (which no one could see), kicked the Goblin Boy aside, and let out a muffled, low growl from behind his iron mask. His fellow slave brothers—the Black Iron Orc bodyguards dressed exactly like the Warboss—followed the Great Warboss, turning the central army around to form ranks facing the rear.
He wanted to see what kind of puny 'Umie trash dared to run up behind the Greenskins.