The Troll Legion was the first to launch the offensive.
Hundreds of behemoths, each looking like a small hill, slowly pressed forward.
The mere sight of them was a terrifying pressure.
But for the Greenskins—a race born for war and craving combat—fear rarely appeared before a total rout.
At most, they experienced a reactive agitation from being threatened.
In a massive WAAAAAGH! where they held the upper hand and victory seemed within reach, the Greenskins would not retreat when facing an enemy.
"WAAAAAGH!!!"
Boom!
The Greenskin Boyz launched a charge against the Troll corps, which seemed sluggish in movement but could cover the distance of several human strides in a single step as they pushed into the city.
The lead "Good Boy" was sent flying backward by a single swing of a morning star wielded by the commander of the Troll corps.
He was the first River Troll to voluntarily submit to Al, named He Shuhan.
The Orc's body flew back into his own ranks, knocking over two other Greenskins.
"ROOAAAR!!!!"
He Shuhan raised his massive club and pointed it forward, his maw full of fangs and sharp teeth letting out a war cry.
The Troll corps timely accelerated their pace and launched their charge.
Although the Trolls' speed was far too slow compared to the Greenskins if scaled to the same size, their agility weakness was compensated for by the massive size difference.
Just before the two armies collided!
"Blargh!"
The River Trolls charging in the front let out roars, unleashing the unique racial talent of the River Troll species upon the Greenskin array just ten steps away.
Vomiting gastric acid!
Highly corrosive gastric acid was spat from the River Trolls' mouths like high-pressure water cannons.
Yellow acid mixed with food scraps and various secretions slammed into the Greenskin ranks like water-bombs.
The flesh of any Greenskin hit directly by the acid was instantly dissolved and corroded!
Bones were exposed, and even the bone structure couldn't avoid being eaten away by this gastric juice that rivaled concentrated acid.
Those not hit directly might still have an arm or half a face dissolved if they were unlucky.
Given Greenskin vitality, such wounds wouldn't necessarily be fatal, but they were certainly painful.
The mindless enemies shrieked, driven by pain and fury to scramble over the corpses of their comrades—whose bones were showing through dissolved flesh—and continued their charge.
The result was beyond doubt. The moment of impact, the Trolls swung their various giant weapons.
With a series of whooshes, the Greenskin front row was instantly overturned by clubs, blades, and axes!
Screams, severed limbs, and flying gore—the scene was more unsettling than the most R-rated American or Central European blockbusters.
The River Trolls' slimy legs were relatively more agile than average Trolls.
Under He Shuhan's lead, the front row of River Trolls maintained a tight formation.
They formed a wall of flesh, smashing into the Greenskin ranks with an unstoppable, savage posture that lacked all weakness and mercy.
A vast number of Greenskins were batted aside and sent flying by the giant heavy weapons before they could even touch the Trolls.
Though they threw themselves forward in waves, their effectiveness was extremely limited.
Al had conducted specific training for the Troll corps.
For these monster infantries—where practically 100 out of every 100 possessed concerning brain capacity—there was only so much he could do.
But thanks to He Shuhan's diligence and responsibility, the Troll corps had managed to master more than just "attack," "retreat," "stay put," and "follow so-and-so."
They could finally apply "group up" and "disperse" rapidly.
Grouping up during the offensive phase had a miraculous effect against Greenskins, who were poor at forming ranks with polearms and lacked anti-large skirmishers.
Al, escorted by his Griffon pack, overlooked the battlefield from the sky.
He Shuhan gave another roaring command, and the River Trolls slowly moved to both sides.
From the gaps they created, the Stone Trolls from the rear moved up.
These creatures, whose ugliness was in no way inferior to their kin, had small ears, tiny eyes, and mouths full of fangs.
Their skin was covered in a stony outer shell, serving as their hardened armor.
Al had even specifically had craftsmen build crude wooden armor for these fellows, with an outer coating to effectively prevent fire damage.
Against ordinary enemies without effective armor-piercing capabilities, these Stone Trolls were a group of invulnerable monster-tanks rampaging across the battlefield.
They uniformly used hammers, axes, and long-handled morning stars.
Since Stone Trolls were a step slower than River Trolls, Al equipped them with these long-handled weapons that possessed a massive attack range.
In the wooden crates on their backs sat one or two Goblins.
These forest-dwellers looked like Snotlings or Gnoblars yet differed greatly from traditional Greenskins.
Ever since a tribe of them was found during the tribe's expansion phase, they had been integrated into the system as a servant race.
Their low intelligence and relatively gentle nature made them suitable for many dirty and exhausting jobs, including collecting Troll gastric acid and organizing manure fertilizer.
And Al did not ignore the military role they could play despite their weak bodies.
After all, Goblins birthed through slime-trees and spore reproduction always grew much faster than Beastmen, who required a full process of pregnancy, delivery, and nursing.
They shrieked, letting out loathsome shrill laughs and weird cries.
The more daring ones would even stand on the Stone Trolls' shoulders as if standing on a mount's head.
Finding the right moment, they would swing their slender arms to hurl alchemical bombs at clustered enemies, creating explosions accompanied by a thick, foul stench.
An average bomb could take out three or four Greenskins, creating a large cloud of foul-smelling, nauseating miasma.
This affected enemy morale, and the dense, toxic gas even interfered with the enemies' focus on offense and defense.
Even Greenskins—whose camps were daily cesspools of filth and who even made idols out of manure, food, and corpses—found this extreme stench unbearable.
Only the Trolls themselves and the Goblins with high odor tolerance could ignore it.
The addition of the Stone Trolls further shook the stability of the Greenskin lines.
These monsters, protected by the triple defense of armor, stony skin, and Troll regeneration, could ignore most attacks from the Boyz.
Every sweep and strike of their long-handled heavy weapons sent a group of Greenskins flying.
No Greenskin Boy or Big 'Un could hold their ground or maintain a line under the assault of these monsters.
After the River Trolls' first wave blunted the Greenskins' edge, the Troll corps used the Stone Trolls as steamrollers.
They spread their ranks left and right, slowly and efficiently grinding the Greenskins backward.
Up to this point in the engagement, the Troll corps had suffered zero casualties.
The Greenskins had already left a field of corpses behind.
Al overlooked the battlefield, communicating orders through the All-Knowing Blessing to his adoptive mother—the person in the ground legion with whom he had the closest connection and deepest bond.
At the same time, he shared this will with the Sagegors and Shamans who accepted his mental link:
"Have the Shaman units coordinate with the Khorngor Legion to launch an offensive. Use maximum speed to crush the Greenskin defensive line in the outer city, drive them back into the city, and jam them together with the enemies in the inner city!"
"AWOOOO..."
"AWOOOO..."
The legion began to move. Centigor soldiers in the front and on both flanks blew their horns.
These trophies, taken from behemoths slain during the forest expansion led by Al, now served as tools to announce the arrival of a terrifying grand army.
The low, long horn blasts were different from the Greenskins' savage calls for attack or gathering.
It was steady and continuous, like a calm wasteland full of hidden dangers, or the surging undercurrents beneath the surface of the sea.
These horn blasts were destined to echo and play across a longer span of time—in Piña, in Estalia, across the entire Southern Kingdom, and as far as the Badlands and the vast territories of the Empire.
They would eventually form a terrifying dread and deterrence in the hearts of all who stood against the Five-Icon Banner.
They would make them remember the meaning of these horn blasts, forcing them to instantly transition from the self-satisfaction of holding victory to an immediate state of unease.
It was divine grace, but also punishment; hope, but also despair.
It symbolized a terrifying power.
Al's legion was about to enter the fray!
"BLOOD! FOR! THE! BLOODMOTHER!"
The Centigor Chosen of the Bloodmother raised that illustrious engine of slaughter that had claimed countless lives.
She ran at the very front of the legion, ensuring all Beastman warriors could witness the majestic form of the Bloodmother's Chosen and Al's adoptive mother.
Alina was filled with such joy; finally, the child promised to her by her deity, her adopted son and the ruler of the tribe, had offered her the other kind of pleasure and glory she craved and pursued beneath her halberd—right after offering her supreme bedchamber delights and the incestuous lust hidden within his filial duty.
"SKULLS FOR THE THRONE!"
Amidst the roars of the beasts, the forest let out a tremor that was either excitement or dread.
"URAH!!!"