Ashen Dragon

The Empire's artillery positions were extraordinarily busy; hundreds of heavy cannons fired without pause until their barrels turned red-hot, halting only to cool down. Meanwhile, countless shells tore through the skies, raining destruction upon the Orcs' heads.

The Empire's bombardment, in a certain sense, was far more ferocious than any airstrike—stronger, longer-lasting, and relentless.

When the shells fell amongst the ranks of the Orcs, the shattered fragments and terrifying explosions claimed the lives of dozens at once—not that these shells could create a sea of flames like solidified gasoline bombs, however.

Yet the Orcs showed no fear. Wielding bone rods and stone spears, they charged forward relentlessly, braving the torrential downpour of artillery fire.

"Waaaagh!"

"Charge!!!"

"Those exploding eggs are made of steel! When we snatch their strange birds, we'll have endless supplies of iron!"

The Orcs' uniquely bizarre thought processes remained unchanged—they actually believed that the shells and bombs were the eggs laid by the 'strange birds.'

With their fleeting lifespan of just a month, those who managed to come up with such thoughts could already be considered the "Wise Men" among the green-skin Orcs.

"Waaaagh!"

"I'll steal them all!"

Battle cries echoed across the battlefield but were drowned out by the deafening roar of explosions. These green-skin Orcs maneuvered through the artillery fire, somehow managing to advance the front lines.

The Orcs at the forefront of the charge met diverse, grotesque deaths—either stepping on landmines, falling victim to descending shells, or being consumed by the flames of solidified gasoline bombs. Their demise came in innumerable ways, each more bizarre than the last.

But regardless of the gruesome fate that befell their kin, these green-skin Orcs pressed forward doggedly, advancing by trampling upon the corpses of their own.

Their simple minds did not understand words like courage or conviction, nor could they decipher complex magical circuits, but one thing was crystal clear to them: "We fight wars!"

"So that's how it is… The Ashen Empire's army relied on such strength to conquer North Aisier and seize Aivendel Dan?"

On the hill at the rear of the Orc camp, Solo gritted his teeth, his expression dark enough to drip ink.

The low-class Orcs might be as plentiful as blades of grass, but even they couldn't endure such attrition! Through his observations, Solo noted that within mere half a day, the green-skin Orcs had lost more than 200,000.

From his vantage point, every explosion seemed to possess power equivalent to a Third Tier Spell, and such explosions had been generated thousands upon thousands of times by the Ashen Empire's troops!

Could it be that the Ashen Empire possessed dozens of Legendary-level Mages and Priests—each tirelessly unleashing Lower Tier Spells to slaughter hundreds of thousands of low-class Orcs?

What a ridiculous notion!

The Red Blood Tribe had long remained isolated on the remote Wuge Prairie, with their path to the Fianso Continent severed by the High Mountain Kingdom and obstructed by the towering Blackstone Mountain Range.

Much like the Northern Kingdom of old, they were content with their corner of the world, oblivious to the sweeping changes shaping the global stage—their sole enemy being the Dwarven Kingdom.

Months ago, peculiar humans had appeared on the Wuge Prairie, claiming to be "Starfallen" from beyond the skies, here to help them defeat the High Mountain Kingdom.

But the Orcs at the time did not believe these aliens at all; instead, they looked upon them with greedy eyes—for in the barren grasslands, all resources were exceptionally precious, even the corpses of humans.

Thus, the Orcs killed these humans, chopped off their heads, stripped off their skin, and even attempted to stew their flesh into soup.

Strangely, however, not long after, the corpses of the humans mysteriously vanished into thin air, leaving the now-hungry Orcs profoundly aggrieved and dejected.

Of course, these Orcs were utterly incapable of realizing the extent to which the appearance of the Ashen Empire had revolutionized the world. The way wars were waged had undergone an earth-shattering transformation.

Solo growled: "We can't go on like this. We must intervene—otherwise, these low-class Orcs will be exterminated sooner or later.

"Damn it, Ashen Empire! Their spells are as if they're free, endless…"

"Mo Ke!"

He called out loudly.

Mo Ke was the current Shaman of the Red Blood Tribe, who had also received the blessing of Black Water, transforming into a 'New Beastman'—partially green-skinned—and possessing many powerful Divine Arts.

However, the source of these Divine Arts' power—whether it came from the Beastman God or some indescribable existence—remained unclear.

"Great Chief, what… are your orders?"

A deep, raspy voice rang out as a hunched Orc appeared before the crowd.

He wore a heavy black robe, and the exposed patches of his green skin were covered in thick moss, dense and unnerving, emanating a foul stench.

Solo sighed and asked: "Mo Ke Shaman, the Ashen Empire's spells are exceptionally deadly—how can we breakthrough?"

Mo Ke sneered wickedly: "It's simple. We need only invoke the blessings of the great Father God and Mother Goddess. The Orcs will then overcome the flames' blockade and claim the land that rightfully belongs to us."

Solo frowned slightly but didn't dwell on Mo Ke's reference to the "Mother Goddess." He simply commanded:

"Then do as you've said. Cast your Divine Arts and ensure that those low-class Orcs—no, our brave warriors—can breach the enemy's blockade."

"Very well, Great Chief, it shall be as you wish."

Mo Ke raised his head, his face resembling a gnarled tree root overgrown with moss. It scrunched up, revealing a chilling smile.

With a retinue of burly Orc warriors guarding him, Mo Ke arrived at the front lines. He raised his head toward the sky, filled with shells, before looking down at the charging green-skin Orcs.

"Ignorant children… You shall receive salvation. You shall become the harbingers of havoc. You shall be the darlings of the new world!"

In her efforts to establish a force capable of spreading her faith on the Main Plane, Zugmoi had labored tirelessly. Yet, humans rarely showed interest in worshiping fungi. Because of this, she frequently created counterfeit religions that were secretly controlled by her true followers. Her greatest triumph (or perhaps her greatest folly) on the Main Plane stage was the founding of the Evil Element Temple Sect. This pseudoreligion consisted of four sects, each dedicated to the wicked essence birthed by the four elements. Together, these sects cooperated to combat their enemies, while an intrinsic mechanism of mutual restraint ensured none grew too powerful, leaving Zugmoi's true disciples firmly in control. The Temple Sect's swift growth among local human civilizations also triggered its downfall, as their expansion became so unmanageable that even the Eight Leaves—a powerful Wizard Alliance—could no longer ignore it. The Eight Leaves defeated the temple's armies on the Emrade Prairie and imprisoned Zugmoi within the dungeon of the temple. Years later, she escaped but was forced to leave behind some key powers on the Main Plane. Since then, Zugmoi had recuperated in her otherworldly abode in Shedakra deep within The Abyss. Compared to other Demon Lords interested in the Main Plane, she often found her strength lacking. Once, Rose was her greatest rival in the Gloomy Region. But since the Spider Queen recently ascended to Godhood, she essentially transcended her conflict with Zugmoi. Their followers occasionally clashed over conflicting interests, but these were minor skirmishes, far from war. Now, the more immediate threat to her was Jubilex—another Lord of Shedakra. The two had fiercely contested the dominion over Shedakra for ages, neither securing a decisive upper hand. Zugmoi ruled the surface, while Jubilex controlled the subsurface layers. During Zugmoi's extended stay on the Main Plane, Jubilex significantly expanded his territory. Zugmoi's Priests could access Chaos, Evil, Ooze, and Plant domains. Her Holy Emblem depicted a flawless human skull from which a massive mushroom grew.

Spore Gate (Su) Zugmoi constantly disseminates an invisible, spore-crafted network of mycelium across surrounding soil, trees, and rocks within a radius of 60 feet. Once per round, as a move action, Zugmoi can instantly transport herself to any spot within this range, as per the spell "Dimension Door." Her physical form disassembles into spores...