Chapter 619: Chapter 619: Entwined Clouds of War
Chapter 619: Entwined Clouds of War
Accompanied by fierce melodies and the roar of artillery, the legions of the Ember Empire gradually pressed toward Collins’ walls. At this moment, this terrible beast finally bared its fangs.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Shells streaked across the sky, landing in the Aetherian coalition’s lines, sparking a string of violent explosions.
"Ah!"
"Watch out!"
"My arm! I can’t feel it anymore!"
Soldiers wailed and screamed. Under the dense barrage, they were often hit by flying shrapnel and swallowed by surging flames.
Officers waved sabers, shouting: "Counterattack! Damn it, what are your cannons for?"
As a former stronghold of Thrace, Aether had also bought advanced artillery from the Ember Empire and formed its own artillery corps. Duke Walter believed they could launch some countermeasures.
But soon the officers realized they were gravely mistaken—artillery is not all equal.
The coalition soldiers fumbled with shells, stuffing them into gun barrels, nervously aiming at the distant Ember legions.
Fire burst from the muzzles, smoke billowed, shells traced elegant arcs in the air—only to fall short, exploding in the wasteland before the tank corps, leaving nothing but holes.
Their range wasn’t enough!
Seeing the counterattack fail, the commander roared in anger, while the coalition’s artillery crews frantically reloaded shells.
Just then, a human soldier looked up in despair—his pupils reflecting countless shells blotting out the sky.
"Amanata above..."
"Boom!"
Instantly, a rain of shells poured onto the coalition’s artillery positions. Flames and smoke soared, and the entire position was engulfed in a sea of fire.
The thousand heavy guns Duke Walter had pinned his hopes on were now nothing but scrap metal. Yet the gold they’d spent was very real, helping the Ember Empire manufacture even more shells and firearms.
In the Ember artillery lines, the ogre Bighead, a lieutenant general and artillery corps commander, squinted through his binoculars at the fiery distance.
—That was the coalition’s artillery line.
"Tsk tsk, stupid southern humans. What a joke, exposing their gun lines so easily.
Years have passed, but these idiots still don’t get the new way of war. Give them the best weapons, it’s a waste—they deserve to eat our junk." The ogre shook his head, sneering.
He put down the binoculars and triumphantly took out an "Emperor" brand cigarette, clamping it in his mouth.
"Let me help, sir." The nearby half-dragon guard hurried up, spitting a spark to light it for him.
After all, the weapons sold by the Ember Empire to the south were old stock, long obsolete.
With the Ministry of Technology climbing the tech tree at breakneck speed, the coalition’s artillery was now a full era behind—outmatched in range, accuracy, and power by the Empire’s heavy guns.
Just earlier, Bighead had easily spotted the coalition’s gun lines—they hadn’t even tried to hide.
He promptly concentrated hundreds of guns and unleashed a fierce barrage, carpet-bombing their positions, reducing those outdated cannons to real scrap.
"Cunning imperialists..."
Walter stared at the burning artillery line, gritting his teeth, brows furrowed.
After the bombardment, he realized—the three great kingdoms had all been fooled by imperial merchants!
What they’d sold as "new" weapons was really discarded junk! All the gold spent had just become ammo for the Empire’s invasion!
Thousands of heavy guns roared in unison, shells streaking through the sky, thick smoke blanketing everything, violent explosions wracking the coalition’s positions. Even before the armies met, casualties mounted on the coalition’s side.
Fortunately, this didn’t last long.
Above the clouds, Barachiel slowly raised his blade of lightning, commanding the heavenly host: "In the name of Mount Celestia, protect our allies—"
His voice rolled like thunder, strong and heavy, each word full of weight.
Instantly, golden-armored giants gave a deep warcry, appearing at the front of the cloudbank.
These heavily armored giants were wrapped in metal from head to toe. One arm was a spear-like blade, the other a giant shield.
—They were Shield Archons, the bedrock of the celestial army, never flinching as they held back wave after wave of devils and demons, withstanding the deadliest blows from even stronger foes.
Now, the Shield Archons raised their enormous shields, shoulder to shoulder, forming a wall of steel in the sky. A colossal light-shield kilometers wide unfolded, blocking almost all the shells raining down on the coalition’s lines.
Repeated blasts hammered the sturdy wall, making the archons tremble, but not one retreated—they bore it all in silence.
Beautiful herald angels beat snowy wings, blowing silver horns in slender hands. The mellow music drifted above the coalition’s lines, healing the wounded.
The arcane legion murmured spells, the air crackling with energy and shimmering points of light. Brilliant magical radiance wrapped around coalition soldiers.
Meteors, fireballs, ice lances, and lightning bolts—spells of terrifying power—shot into the sky, crashing toward the rapidly advancing Ember legions.
"Boom!"
A speeding steam tank was struck by a meteor, bursting instantly into flames and exploding, left a smoking pile of scrap.
Upon Collins’ towering walls, thirty Sun God ballistae loosed glowing bolts, shooting over a kilometer to pierce tanks, armored vehicles, and enemy soldiers alike.
From inside a steam tank, the armored corps commander, Dragonblood Marquis Arturo, bellowed angrily over the loudspeaker.
"For the Ember Empire! For His Majesty Cassius! All forces—crush them!"
The steel behemoths gave a roar that shook the steppe. Flames leapt from their barrels, blasting the coalition’s lines with terrifying explosions.
The tanks’ alloy-tipped armor-piercing rounds shattered even the thick shields of the Shield Archons, while those heavily armored infantry were blown to pieces.
Dense steam and black smoke swept in. The steel behemoths lunged for the coalition soldiers.
"The Fadlan Empire has never had cowards! Don’t retreat—protect our land!"
"For Fadlan!"
A frontline officer drew his saber and howled, leading the charge against the tanks, trying to swarm these iron ’beasts’.
"Boom——"
But reality was no bard’s tale—the coalition’s spears were powerless against tank armor.
The steam tanks rolled on mercilessly, blood and flesh flying. The tracks were splattered red, yet the tanks kept roaring ahead, leaving only a bloody mess in their wake.
On the ground, dozens of vanguard steam tanks punched through, brutally ripping into the coalition’s lines, splitting them into scattered fragments.
The tanks’ main guns smashed the coalition’s defenses, while Ember Empire infantry followed close behind.
They poured through the breaches, firing and tossing grenades, weaving a dense web of fire to cover the tanks’ push.
After countless drills and war games, infantry-tank tactics were second nature to these imperial soldiers.
Under the crushing assault, the coalition fell by the dozens like cut wheat. The front was a field of corpses and smoke.
Any ordinary army would’ve panicked and collapsed before the Empire’s iron flood.
But the Northern Aether coalition was made up of Fadlan’s remnants, the celestial host of Silver Heaven, the arcane legions of the City of a Thousand Spells, and other extraordinary forces.
Hit hard, they still rallied quickly and counterattacked fiercely.
Arcane mages chanted, staffs raised, dazzling spell-light flashing, the magic web surging.
Walls of fire, stone, and force sprang up before the steel behemoths. Spell-fog blinded them, heaved-up rock flipped tanks, and sharp ice spikes pierced armor.
Spatial rifts opened, sending steam tanks plunging into bottomless chasms.
"Arrogant dragon lackeys! I’ll show you the Sun God’s wrath!"
The angel-blooded flapped their wings, hovering, eyes blazing with divine fury.
They raised crackling divine swords, aiming skyward, releasing blinding light.
Marquis Kalen swung his sword and roared: "For Holy Fadlan! I will destroy you with sacred flame!"
"Boom!"
Gold-red fire pillars crashed down, skewering several steam tanks—including the vaunted ’Old Partner’ model.
Engines shrieked and tanks exploded, left as heaps of smoldering scrap, crews incinerated.
High above, angelic archers drew their bows, aiming at the Ember legions below, loosing volleys of silvery arrows like flashes of lightning.
The arrows pierced clouds and fell with shrill bursts, crossing midair in blazing silver trails—a radiant meteor shower.
Arrows hit the steel behemoths, burying deep in the armor, unleashing a tornado of sand and snow inside, wrecking the interiors.
Archer archons raised their bows, shooting light-tipped arrows through the hearts of Ember soldiers with dragon blood.
The foot soldiers below couldn’t hit the angels above, charging on under a rain of light arrows, picking their way over their dead comrades.
The coalition’s counterattack was effective—in just minutes, the Ember army lost twenty-one steam tanks. They had never faced such evenly matched foes.
But the skies were not the sole domain of angels and celestials—the Ember Empire’s air force was also strong.
Though in quality, their wyverns and drakes couldn’t match the celestial beings, in numbers, they held an overwhelming edge.
And there were those dragonspawn monsters, blessed many times by dragon blood, far stronger than their kin.
"Awooo—"
The wyvern legion’s leader, the twenty-meter-long atavist wyvern Smaug, raised his head and let out a furious roar, as mighty as a real red dragon.
At his call, thousands of wyverns shrieked, wings flapping in a surging tide, pouring at the heavenly host.
Many bore soldiers in special uniforms on their backs—not skilled knights, but ’aerial troops’.
The empire’s air force had distinct branches—there were ’bombing drakes’ with bomb racks, ’combat drakes’ with machine guns and grenade launchers. The flying troops operated these weapons.
"Ratatatatat—"
Wyvern-mounted machine guns spat flames, wing-mounted cannons blasted shells, and the withering fire forced the heavenly host to keep their heads down.
The angels had to shelter behind shield archons, returning fire with arrows, unable to help the ground troops.
Wyverns tumbled from the sky with shrieks, but some angels were also shot down to the ground.
The Crimson Scaled Conquerors’ captain, Dragonblood Marquis Alger, mounted on a draconic giant eagle, led the true wyvern knights into the swirling air battle.
Alger raised his burning greatsword, charging at the front: "For the Ember Empire! For His Majesty Cassius! Destroy them!"
"Dragon Roar Charge!" He pointed his everburning greatsword at the heavenly host.
Hundreds of wyvern knights charged as one. Their mounts spread wings and dove, shrieking skyward.
"Roooar—"
In that instant, their roars resonated together—hundreds of wyverns moving as one. The heavenly soldiers quaked with fear.
A hundred-meter red dragon apparition appeared to them, diving straight at their lines.
In a flash, the Crimson Scaled Conquerors thrust spears, swung swords, chopping down golden heads, breaking through the shield archons, tearing a huge gap in the host’s front.
After a fierce charge, they climbed almost straight up to high altitude, ready for another dive, as the wyvern legion followed into the breach.
The wyverns flapped, snapping at celestial warriors with fangs, stabbing them with venomous tail spikes.
Their machine guns and cannons spat fire, shredding frail angels.
"Awooo—die!"
The white dragon, savage-faced, lashed with wings, dived at the host, belching ice-cold frost, freezing several celestials solid.
Wyverns, drakes, and the heavenly army grappled and tore into a bloody melee.
Many wyverns had their hearts pierced, heads hacked off by celestial warriors carrying the light of heaven, dying to fight the invaders to the last.
But savage wyverns ripped celestials to shreds, scattering flesh and blood, making corpses unrecognizable. The greedy beasts had only one goal—to slake their lust for slaughter, catch the emperor’s eye, and earn nobler bloodlines.
The clouds broke under the fierce battle, stained gray by smoke. Heaven’s radiance, machine gun fire, and explosions mingled; wyvern shrieks, angelic roars, and machinegun rattles all mixing together.
Wyvern and celestial corpses, severed limbs and blood fell constantly. The sky itself had become a brutal meat grinder.
